RAF rear gunner, 105, recalls freezing turret and 32 wartime bombing missions

Ronnie Holdsworth spent six or seven hours at a time in the freezing rear turret of an RAF bomber, watching for attacks as his crew flew towards targets in Germany. Now 105, the veteran of 32 bombing missions is preparing to mark his 80th Remembrance Sunday at his retirement home in California.

His family flew to America on Thursday 5 November to join him. Originally from Bradford, West Yorkshire, he can no longer travel to Britain, so his home in Bakersfield is arranging a commemoration for him and fellow veterans.

His great-niece Angie Burns, 53, said: “We’re taking Remembrance Sunday to Ronnie.”

International Bomber Command has obtained an RAF uniform for him and is producing a replica of his logbook, recording all 32 operations. The family has also asked Buckingham Palace for a message from the King and is bringing video messages from Bradford’s Lord Mayor, Cllr Chris Herd, and International Bomber Command.

Holdsworth served with No. 158 Squadron, a heavy bomber squadron, in a role so dangerous that he had not been expected to survive more than three raids. He is among the few surviving Second World War airmen.

Remembering the Handley Page Halifax that carried his crew, he said: “It got us there and it got us back,”

Like many airmen, he took a talisman on each operation. “Our pilot, wouldn’t let us fly without them.

“Some guys had a flag or mascot, I had a little bag of lucky charms.”

One of eight children, Holdsworth grew up in Great Horton, Bradford. He was 18 and working in a paper and twine factory when he volunteered for the RAF in 1940.

A mechanics course at Dishforth, near Ripon, was followed by orders to report to Liverpool Docks. The tropical kit issued to the men suggested they were heading somewhere warm.

In an online interview with historian Steve Darlow, who was involved in the RAF Bomber Command Memorial in London, Holdsworth recalled sailing along the African coast and a collision with another ship near Sierra Leone. He transferred to a second vessel and continued to Egypt, where major battles in the North African campaign were taking place, then to Kenya to train as an aircraft mechanic at Nakuru.

He later worked on Blenheims in Madagascar and qualified for aircrew in 1943, as Britain’s bomber offensive intensified.

At RAF Catterick, crews came together in a room filled with pilots, navigators and gunners. Holdsworth recalled: “A Scotsman called Jock, a pilot, came up to me and said ‘I need a rear gunner. How about it?’”

He joined 158 Squadron at RAF Lissett, converting from twin-engined Vickers Wellingtons to the four-engined Halifax. He remembered nervously entering the briefing room before his first operation to learn the target. Most of his raids were over Germany.

The 1,000-bomber raid on Duisburg remained vivid. “I’ve never seen so much fire in all my life. I remember thinking ‘It must be terrible down there’. But we did what we had to do.”

His task was to protect the aircraft from attacks from behind, confined for hours in an isolated turret.

“As a rear gunner, I was the only one who flew backwards. My job was to safeguard the aircraft from rear attacks.

“I was in that cramped, freezing turret for six or seven hours.

“Most of the time I’m looking around and fidgeting – I can’t sit still or I’d fall asleep. That happened to quite a few.

“I couldn’t talk to anyone, if you started chirping on the intercom the pilot would tell you to shut up.”

On Christmas Eve 1944, the crew came close to crashing near Duisburg. A loud noise as they approached the target was followed, on the return flight, by news from the pilot that an oxygen tank had been hit. He did not know whether the undercarriage would hold.

“It shook me up, I thought ‘I’m going to be a guest of Hitler’s for Christmas’.”

The bomber made an emergency landing at RAF Carnaby, near Bridlington. Once outside, the crew could see a hole in the aircraft’s side.

Holdsworth’s final mission was near Berlin on 16 January 1945. “It felt like a load had been taken off, but one crew we knew well didn’t make it that night.”

He met his wife, Margaret, when both were stationed at RAF Kirkham. They had two sons, Derek and Mike, and emigrated to America in 1958. He initially worked as a milkman before building a successful sales career.

He attended 158 Squadron reunions until 2008 and corresponded with his navigator, New Zealander Bobby Kennedy, until Kennedy’s death in the 1990s.

In America, Holdsworth has continued to take part in veterans’ events. At 90 he returned to a rear turret; on his 100th birthday he flew in a 1940s biplane. His 105th birthday brought a tank ride and a letter from President Trump.

Burns said she had known little about his service while growing up because he rarely discussed it. She attributed that reticence to wartime secrecy and the way returning servicemen resumed civilian life.

“He’s very humble and still has a sense of humour,” she said. His crew called him Chico because he came from a musical family and enjoyed dancing. He still takes a dance class every day.

Reflecting on those hours in the turret, Holdsworth said: “I often think how the hell did I sit there all that time? It made you grow up pretty fast.”