THIS year marks the 100th anniversary of the RAF.

Last week, we featured an appeal from Alan Kidson, one of the organisers of an exhibition set to take place later this year, for readers to get in touch with information about West Dorset's RAF heroes.

Two of the names Mr Kidson is interested in finding out more about were Wing Cmdr. Charles Law Atkinson and Capt. H. Leslie Satchell. Both men featured in the Dorset Echo on April 12, 1978 to mark the 60th anniversary of the RAF. Here are their memories, in their own words.

* Anyone with information or photos that could be used for the exhibition, to take place at Bridport Town Hall on Easter Monday, April 2, is asked to email oldpompey@gmail.com

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AN insight into the training methods used by the Royal Flying Corps is provided by the recollections of Wing Cmdr. Charles Law Atkinson, of East Street, Bridport.

Wing Cmdr. Atkinson applied to join the RFC while he was a private in the Northumberland Fusiliers.

“I was interviewed and passed fit for balloon officer of observer. They said I could not be a pilot because I was short-sighted,” said 79-year-old Mr Atkinson.

“They must have got mixed up because a person called Atkins was turned down and I was passed as having perfect eye sight. I kept my mouth shut and went through cadet training. We had to learn Morse code, the Lewis and Vickers machine guns, map reading and advanced Army discipline.

“After a month at Hastings we had to go to a pukka cadet wing, where we had to pass exams on aircraft rigging, aerial photography, stationary rotary and radial engines, knowledge of two types of bomb and, the big stumbling block for many, aerial navigation.

“If you were successful you then went on indefinite leave until you got your commission and were posted to your first aerodrome. That was when flying started.”

Wing Cmdr. Atkinson’s flying training began in a Maurice Farman “pusher” biplane. Its 80 h.p. engine gave it a top speed of between 60 and 70 m.p.h.

“The most amusing but frightening incident was on my first solo night flight in a DH6,” he recalls.

“Because of my eyesight I could not read the speed indicator to see if I was doing 60m.p.h for take-off. I had to take off and managed to get in the air. After a few circuits, at what I thought was the correct altitude, I landed badly.

“The C.O. called me in and told me off for stunting. He said I had not flown higher than 20ft and had narrowly missed huts and hangars.

“From then on I wore prince-nez inside my goggles so I could read the instruments!”

After six hours in a Maurice Farman he went solo and the real aerial training began.

“You had to do a cross-country flight of 60 miles each way,” he explained. “You did not have a compass, only a rev. counter, altimeter and spirit level to indicate level flying. You took a map with you and read that.

“Fortunately I was at Ternhill, Shropshire. It was pretty easy because we were not far from Crewe and there were railway lines to help us find our way.

“After successfully passing the test for flying in cloud I graduated to an advanced “pusher” aircraft, the F.E.2b, an operational bomber and fighter. You had to complete a height test to 12,000ft.”

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LIEUT. Karl Bonhaefer was Baron Manfred von Richthofen’s best pupil. By June, 1917, he had 30 kills to his credit and was the proud holder of the Pour le Merite, the coveted Blue Max.

But on June 5 the German ace made a tactical error that cost him his life.

On that fateful day over 60 years ago his red Albatross scout, with black allerons and elevator, was one of over a dozen planes from the Red Baron’s Flying Circus which were pounced on by seven British aircraft in a dogfight south of Zandvorrde.

The memory of that furious scrap is still vivid in the mind of the leader of that British patrol, Capt. H. Leslie Satchell, of Highlands, Old Lyme Road, Charmouth.

His yellowing pilot’s log book recalls the engagement – “Leader of HA (Hun aircraft) came straight for me and then went for Sawden, who was wounded. Dived on him and had 10 minute scrap, finally sending him down in flames. Both wings came off before he finally crashed.”

Elaborating on the brief log book entry, Capt. Satchell said: “Schaefer shot at us as we were side slipping. Then he looped over the top of us and we stalled and fell down on him as he was coming out of the loop. Both I and my observer, Lieut. T. A. Metford-Lewis, has our guns going.

“We were about 80 yards from him and I can still picture his black helmet in the red plane. He made a serious mistake and it cost him his life.”

Capt. Satchell, who was 82 earlier this month, was credited with seven kills during his seven or eight months’ flying in France.

He was seconded to the Royal Flying Corps from the Royal Warwickshire Regiment in June, 1916 and spent the next three or four months on a technical course at Reading University. Flying training started in October on a Maurlee Farman Shorthorn “pusher” aircraft at Thetford, Norfolk.

After four hours 20 minutes solo flying he was sent to nearby Sedgeford to fly advanced machines, Henri Farmans and F. E. 2b aircraft. And by the time he passed out he had completed just four hours 35 minutes of dual control instruction and 22 hours 15 minutes solo flying.

In February 1917 he was posted to 20 Squadron at Boisdingham, France. The following month he scored his first “possible kill”.

Capt. Satchell’s log book recounting a raid on Countral railway junction relates: “My tailplane and right top tail boom shot through. One H.A probably down.”

Capt. Satchell has a lucky escape during a photographic mission behind the German trenches. His observer, a Canadian, was shot through the head and the skirt of Capt. Satchell’s flying coat was riddled with bullets.

An entry for May 26 states: “Close offensive patrol. Engaged about 15 H.A. Albatros scouts of Richthofen’s Circus. One H.A. brought down by us. Pilot seen to fall out…and he machine was seen to crash. Great fun. Five H.a. down and all ourselves ok.”

Capt. Satchell well remembers the Red Baron. “If we were attacked we used to fly in a circle so we could protect each others’ tails,” he said.

“Richthofen would dive through the middle of the circle and salute. It was a very friendly war!”

In September 1917 he was sent back to England to start the 103 Squadron 33rd Wing of the Southern Training Brigade at Old Sarum.

He later went to the Netheravon Flying Training School and became inspector of instructors for the Southern Brigade. By the time he left the service in 1919 he had trained more than 100 pilots.

Capt. Satchell, who retired to Charmouth in 1961 after being a director of British Thomson Houston (now G.E.C.) survived more than six months’ aerial combat in France against long odds.

But his survival, and success, was more than mere luck. It was a tribute to his flying skill and his ability to outthink the enemy.