Ronald Hawkins, 3 Sqdn., Royal Air Force, GENT CITY CEMETERY

[veerle]

Hello, My name is Veerle and I am a student from Belgium.

I need some information about Ronald Hawkins. Any information is welcome! You guys could help me a lot! It's for school, for history, and I could win a trip to Londen! I have to make a facebook page, and on that page I need to write a lot of info of that person.

Maybe this site can help you a bit:
CWGC :: Casualty Details

Greetings, Veerle x

[Philip Reinders]

Best start would be Gent city records

[von Poop]

Some Gazette entries:
MC:
Viewing Page 1572 of Issue 35107

AFC:
Viewing Page 1519 of Issue 35963

FL Promotion:
Viewing Page 2248 of Issue 34831

FO Promotion:
Viewing Page 2248 of Issue 34831

SL promotion:
Viewing Page 2927 of Issue 35618

Good Luck,
~A

[englandphil]

Veerle, here is some background info for you.



Ron Hawkins was born in 1916 in Harwich, Essex. His family moved to Ipswich in 1928 and, on leaving school, he took up an apprenticeship with a firm of chartered mechanical engineers where he qualified as a draftsman. In December 1935 the Air Ministry advertised for vacancies in the RAF Reserve as non-commissioned pilots. This attracted Ron who was an outdoor adventurous type by nature. He was already an experienced sailor of small boats in the River Orwell and around the coast. He trained part time at No 6 Elementary and Reserve Flying Training School, Sywell and on the 23rd April 1936 flew solo. He returned for further training periodically until he finally became a qualified pilot in April 1937. He joined the Straight Corporation at Ipswich aerodrome in June 1937 flying calibration flights for Army anti aircraft and sound locating units and providing training for Observer Corps.

In September 1937 he was provisionally accepted for a commission in the Reserve of Air Force Officers, undertook a further period of training, and was confirmed Acting Pilot Officer in November 1937.

After a year of service/training in the RAF Ron went onto the Reserve and rejoined the Straight Corporation in September 1938. The company planned to add flight training of RAFVR pilots to its activities and he was sent on a flying instructors course, which he completed in November 1938. He continued to work as an instructor until the start of the war.

Ron Hawkins was recalled for active service in October 1939 and undertook conversion to Fairey Battles with 63 Reserve Squadron at Benson. He was then transferred to 98 Squadron, which moved to France in April 1940.

98 Squadron was based in Western France and used in a reserve and training role on behalf of the Advanced Air Striking Force, a role which was unaffected by German invasion on the 10th May.

Ron was transferred to a front line unit, 103 Squadron based at Rheges, on the 24th May 1940. He flew several operations during his short time with the unit but was shot down on the 14th June 1940 in a daylight attack on German troop concentrations near Evreux.

The following is a verbatim transcription of Ron's report of this flight and his subsequent capture evasion and escape completed on his eventual return to the UK.

"P/O Hugill and I took off at 18:45 hours on the 14th June 1940 from the French landing ground at Souge to attack enemy units in the large forest South West of Evreux: climbing most of the time we reached an area a few miles South of the target area at 8,000 feet at 1920 hours - to be attacked by approximately 11 (eleven) Me 109s. Our intercommunication was not good and I had difficulty hearing Hugill's report as to their different directions of attack: however as the forest was in sight and only a few miles ahead I carried on and managed to release two bombs on some transport and whilst doing this was attacked from astern and underneath, resulting in my control column coming away from its mounting and the bottom of the cockpit taking fire - the aircraft, now out of control, continued to dive at an increasing angle. Hugill was ordered to take to his parachute and I followed after having tried unsuccessfully to get out in the approved manner owing to the air pressure but eventually managed to work my feet up over the instrument panel, over the top and slightly to one side of the windscreen and so letting the air pressure pull me out by the heels and legs. I pulled the rip-cord immediately and regretted it at once as a was given a few short bursts of fire - finding myself not heavy enough to spill the air from the canopy by pulling the shroud lines on one side, I hung limp shamming that I had been hit. Hugill was floating down several miles away and I have not seen him since, as you know he is now a prisoner of war. My aircraft and one of the 109s crashed fairly near the target - the 109 was presumably shot down by Hugill, possibly helped by the bursts of front gun that I gave them whenever they went by the nose after attacking.

I landed in the very forest that I had set out to bomb, hid my parachute and left the forest as quickly as I could by the Western side, lay in a cornfield and watched them searching the wood for me.

At dark I started marching South by the stars travelling cross country all that night, hiding the next day and on again the next night, hoping to regain our own lines, but had had nothing to eat or drink since lunch time on the 14th and while looking for water in a farm yard was captured by seven German soldiers at about 02:00hours on the 16th June. I was driven to a sub headquarters, given breakfast with a German Lieutenant and then taken away to a head quarters unit near Vernon (Position since given to Intelligence) and interrogated, giving my name, rank and number but managed to pick up the piece of paper on which the interrogator had written this information, as I left the office. From here I was taken to a former French barracks at Vernon and put with about 300 French prisoners, here the food was quite reasonable and the treatment was good. The captors allowed us to enter the French stores and to help ourselves to French kit, so I obtained haversack, water bottle, chisel, a pair of pliers and a file when no one was looking, with a view to planning an escape.

On Tuesday the 18th we were taken by lorries to a camp West of Evreux. It consisted of a flourmill and house used for German offices and living quarters, a small field for about 2000French prisoners and an outhouse for approximately 30 French officers, three British Army officers, a Flight Lieutenant from a fighter squadron and myself. The whole thing was surrounded by barbed wire, machine guns and was bordered on the South by a river. I took the names and addresses of the British officers next of kin having unsuccessfully tried to persuade them to escape with me, made my escape in the early hours of the 19th by crawling along the sewage trench every time the sentries had their backs to me and swimming the river that formed part of the Southern boundary of the camp. Unfortunately I lost my trousers and money crossing the river ( having taken them off thinking it was shallow enough to wade ), so I had to put my shirt on with my legs through the arm holes.

I knew the rough direction of the coast line and marching by night and hiding by day, reached Trouville (a small town and harbour on the Channel coast, 10 miles South of Havre) on the 22nd June - on this day I was given old civilian clothes and bread and sugar by a friendly farmer, having previously lived on biscuits saved from the prison, supplemented by potatoes from the fields and milk when I could find willing cows."

"Once in civilian clothes, the going was much simplified and I travelled by day, at first avoiding German soldiers and main roads, but as I got bolder, walking with or near them and answering their queries as to direction in bad French, generally saying "La Bas" and pointing with an authoritative air down the road and hoping it was the wrong direction.

I was disappointed at finding no suitable boats for the Channel crossing at Trouville, so I crossed the Seine with some refugees and searched the coast from Le Havre, through St. Valerie, Dieppe and up to Le Treport, but finding no suitable boats - only hundreds of the Army of Occupation, so I turned South again and reached Carteret (on the West coast of the Cherbourg peninsular) on the 30th June.

Carteret is the nearest point on the French coast to Jersey and some of the journey to Carteret was carried out on a stolen bicycle, as my shoes were getting worn out and my feet getting blistered; the former being remedied by packing the soles with canvas from abandoned motor cars on the road side and the latter (my feet) being made more comfortable by wrapping them up in my first aid field dressing. Food was begged or stolen as required.

I obtained a canvas canoe and allowing 40 degrees of drift, steered a rough star course for Jersey, landed there on the 1st July and was given food and drink but told that the enemy had occupied the island that day, so returned to the mainland, which looks only five miles away but turns out to be 15, that night.

On returning to France I met a farmer who gave me his hospitality and 50 francs, so I left Carteret for Vichy on the 7th July - realising that walking was too slow I stole quite a good bicycle and, having crept over the occupied/non occupied border, reached Vichy on the 11th; here I spent 48 of my 50 francs on a wire home reporting myself safe.

Little help seemed forthcoming from the American Consul at Vichy.

At Vichy I met four Army officers who were also trying to get home to England - they were more or less interned and under police supervision and, not knowing this at the time, I myself was nearly interned by going to get a meal with them at what appeared to be a temporary demobilisation centre for the French army.

I left Vichy hurriedly on the 13th and reached Marseilles on the 16th, hoping to contact some neutral ship captains Marseilles was a "closed dock" and it was difficult to get past the gendarmes guarding the gates leading to the wharves, however carrying a piece of bamboo, string and a fish hook a French man (who I met at Marseilles and who also wanted to return to England) and I managed to creep into the dock yard, drop our fishing tackle, pick up an empty packing case and walk with it up to the only neutral ship, whose Greek skipper was friendly, but did not know when he was sailing - about Christmas he thought.

The British Consulate had officially closed but two members of the Consulate were working behind closed doors and gave me 346 francs - what I wanted was 1000 francs for a Spanish visa on an identity paper that the American Consul in the town had given me. The sailors home was opened in an unofficial sort of way for stranded British subjects, so I, getting fed up with sleeping out, went there on the same day that I got my 346 francs: at the home there were 30 men, at least 20 being from the British army, and four of that 20 were officers. I stayed at this establishment from the 22nd-25th July, trying to obtain a boat to leave Marseilles, but on the morning of the 25th the local police made a round up and took away some of the people from the Sailor's Home for internment at Fort St Jean, so I made a hasty exit and, as the roads leading out of the town were well watched and guarded, took a train to Perpignan with the French man previously mentioned and two British Army officers. From Perpignan, we proceeded to the frontier town of Cerebere and, on the night of the 27th July climbed the Pyrenees into Spain. I consumed some mountain water, which I afterwards learned had been a breeding place for mosquitos and, a day afterwards developed a fever and diarrhoea. On this day we were captured by Spanish soldiers but luckily, after being detained for a night in the village where we were caught, were taken to the Frontier Commission at Figuras, at which town there is a British Consular agent, who we managed to get word to. He obtained our temporary release from the guardroom and put us up at a hotel in the town. After this it was just a matter of waiting until Sir Samuel Hoare, British Ambassador in Madrid, had arranged for our official release and removal to Gibralter, which was entered via Gerona, Barcelona and Madrid on September the 23rd.

From Gibraltar I sent a signal to the Air Ministry Intelligence Dept giving location of suitable targets and other military information written down and hidden in a bar of soap while walking through Northern France. I also wrote a very brief paper on "Hints for Prisoners Escaping from the North of France" and sent this by flying boat to the escaping expert, Flight Lieutenant Evans at the Air Ministry, hoping that this may be useful to anyone unfortunate enough to be shot down whilst bombing the Northern Ports of France.

At Gibraltar I managed to carry out a 7 hour trip in a London flying boat and a 3 hour trip in a Swordfish float plane (Both anti submarine patrols).

On the 7th October I left Gibraltar in a Sunderland flying boat, reaching the UK on the morning of the 8th October 1940."

On arrival in the UK Ron was debriefed for a couple of days at the MI9(b) London Transit Camp before going on leave with instructions not to mention to anyone the identities of those who had helped him whilst on the run in France.

He then qualified as a flying instructor at No 2 CFS Cranwell and was posted to 22 EFTS at Cambridge. On the 17th March 1941 the London Gazette announced the award of the Military Cross to Ron Hawkins for his daring and resourceful escape and evasion.

He then returned to No 2 CFS at Cranwell, this time to teach trainee flying instructors. He was posted as Acting Squadron Leader to No 16 Polish Service Flying Training Unit at Newton in May 42. When he left Newton on the 21st January 1943, his logbook was noted by his CO that his ability as a flying instructor was "exceptional". Ron was awarded the Air Force Cross for his work as a flying instructor, gazetted on the 2nd April 1943.

He was posted to No 59 Operational Training Unit at Millfield in February 1943 and then, in June 1943, to 56 Squadron Matlaske, in Norfolk, as "Supernumerary Flying" in preparation to his taking command of the Squadron.

56 Squadron were in the process of converting to Typhoons at the time. The Squadron was then transferred to Manston and he undertook many operational ground attack and escort flights.

On the 7th September 1943 he was given command of another Typhoon unit, 3 Sq, also at Manston and continued to fly Ramrod, Rhubarb and Roadstead operations on a regular basis.

Ron Hawkins was sadly killed on the 5th October 1943 flying a low level Ramrod operation to attack the Sinclair petroleum refinery at Langerbrugge about 6 miles North of Ghent in Belgium. Flying with his No 2, Sgt R W Pottinger, Ron was separated from the rest of his Squadron near the target. As they approached the objective they came under heavy fire from flak guns mounted on railway wagons. Each pilot pulled over on either side of some large chimneys and as Pottinger levelled out he saw the refinery disintegrate as the bombs released by the two Typhoons exploded. Pottinger then noticed Ron still turning with smoke billowing from beneath his Typhoon as he banked away. The Typhoon gradually lost height and he baled out but was too low and his parachute failed to deploy in time. The aircraft crashed about half a mile from the target.

Squadron Leader R Hawkins MC AFC RAF was buried at Ghent City Cemetery. He was a most resourceful and determined character and a courageous and outstanding airman in best traditions of the RAF.

World War Two was a time of great personal tragedy for the Hawkins family. Ron's brother, Lieutenant Commander F W Hawkins RN, was lost at sea when the destroyer he commanded, HMS Boadicea, was sunk off Portland in June 1944. In addition Ron's mother, Judith, was killed in a motor accident earlier in the war.

SOURCE : P/O Ron Hawkins MC AFC RAF - 103 Squadron - 1940

[KevinBattle]

Veerle, you have already posted this question on 6th January and got a lot of replies then.....
http://www.ww2talk.com/forum/war-cem...-cemetery.html
Now these people who have kindly spent time providing the information will want to know what you did with the previous responses!!
I think you should try and do some of your school work yourself!!

[von Poop]

Ah,
Threads merged.

[chesterflyer]

[QUOTE][
S E C R E T.

M.I.9/S/P.G.(F)134.

ACCOUNT OF ESCAPE OF

2144 MAJOR W.C.W. POTTS. 7/R. NORTHUMBERLAND FUSILIERS.

CAPTURED – 12.6.40 ESCAPED – 12.6.40.
RECAPTURED – 13.6.40 FINAL ESCAPE - 18.6.40.

LEFT GIBRALTAR 7.12.40 ARRIVING GLASGOW 15.12.40

.

Length of Army Service: Commissioned in 1922 in T.A.

Profession in Peacetime: Farmer

Prior to Capture


The Battalion received order on the 11th June to destroy the remaining equipment, such as trucks and guns, and were marched about midnight to the market place in ST. VALERY. After an hour’s waiting here, hoping that news would come through about their embarkation, they were marched back to the edge of the town. During the night there was spasmodic rifle and machine gun fire.

On the 12th June orders were received from the Divisional Commander, to cease fire, and, a little later, information was received that the French General had decided to surrender, a course, which was also taken by British troops.

Capture


At about 1300 hours, a single German tank appeared and the Officer in it ordered all equipment and arms to be thrown in a pile in a field. Prisoners were then formed up and marched in a column in an easterly direction.

Escape


After marching for about two hours, Captain Burn of “B” Company and myself decided to escape, which we did, and hid in a hedge until nightfall. We then retraced our steps with the intention of making for the coast. Owing to extreme fatigue, we did not go any distance that night and, in the morning, slept in a cornfield.

Recapture


Later on the same day, we went to sleep, but were awakened by German soldiers, who took us in sidecars to rejoin the column. That night, P/W slept in a field and were marched the following morning in an easterly direction.

That night, we arrived at a P/W Camp and here I met Captain Besley (M.I.9/S/P.G. (F)121). During the night we made plans to escape while on the march. Before the next morning, as most officers were footsore, the interpreters arranged transport for them. This did not suit us, so we decided to hide among the O.Rs., stayed there overnight, and on the following day, marched out with them in the column.

Final Escape


On arrival at the village of HORNOY, we hid in a hedge, waited about three hours until the column had passed, and then returned towards the coast. Our journey took us across country by night. We got some food from peasants but they were afraid to do much for us, as the death penalty for helping escapers, was in force.

Just before arriving on the coast, we found some civilian clothes in a deserted house. Most of the houses we passed through had been thoroughly looted by French, English and German soldiers.

At the mouth of the Somme, we tried to get a boat, but the only one available was a lifeboat, which could not be handled by two. We then decided to go south and try to contact British Forces, which we believed were still fighting there.

On the 30th June, at the village of BEUVRAIGNES, we were arrested by a German Corporal, who had us searched, fed and then made us clean out the yard of a house used as their H.Q.

The following day, instead of being sent to a concentration camp, as we had expected, we were told that we were free to go and so continued our way South.

On our way, we passed many villages that had been heavily shelled and where hardly a house stood. When we were due East of Paris, traffic became more normal and we were able to get lifts on lorries.

We passed the line of demarcation on the 8th July about 3kms from MOULINS on the Route Bleu and, about 8kms further on, we passed the French sentries. On neither occasion were we stopped. We walked across in company with a woman who had been visiting her son in the North.

We then took the road to VICHY and, on the 9th July, on the outskirts of this town, were stopped by French Police and asked for papers. They discovered that we were not Belgians and, after questioning, we had to admit to being British soldiers. Afterwards, we were put into a demobilisation camp at the Stadium. The treatment in VICHY was quite good and we were allowed to go out in the town. We visited the American Consul, who promised to send telegraphs for us and try to get us out of the country. During our stay, we hoped to get instructions from the War Office, whom we had informed of our whereabouts through the American Consul.

After about a week, finding that nothing was forthcoming, we decided to make for MARSEILLES, where we arrived on the 19th of July. In Marseilles we went to the American Consul, who sent us to the Seaman’s Mission and told us that we would receive £5 a month, as this was the allowance that was being paid to British Officers.

On the 24th of July, the French Police visited the Mission and demanded to see the Senior British Officer who was myself. They informed me that they had orders to intern all British soldiers in Fort St Jean. Captain Besley and I with about 4 or 5 other ranks were taken away and interned in Fort St Jean. Other escapers in the Mission, who had not been arrested, decided to try and get across the Spanish Frontier.

On arrival at the Fort, Captain Besley and I were housed in the Officers’ Mess of the Foreign Legion, where we were treated very well by three very pro-British Russian Officers.

During our stay at the Fort, we were allowed out in the town on parole, which they felt justified in giving, as we were not prisoners of war. When we went out we tried to find people who might be able to get us out of the country. We also went to the American Consul, who informed us that he was trying to collect all British personnel in the Fort, until there were sufficient numbers, when he hoped to arrange for a boat and then get them all out.

Three weeks later, we heard that French and Colonial Troops were being sent to Morocco for demobilisation, and decided to try and get on one of the boats. I managed to get two French uniforms and we were able to join the party embarking. The night before leaving, I withdrew my parole. My identification papers were taken away and I was told that I could not leave the Fort. I escaped by climbing over the wall and hiding in the darkness of an archway until the Foreign Legion column passed. This was about the 11th of August.

While on the boat, Captain Besley was discovered and taken off. When the boat, “SIDI-BEL-ABBES”, was at sea, I was approached by one of the Russian officers whom I had known in the Fort, and who decided that I should assume the name of ‘Victor Sanchez’ and placed me on the party’s nominal roll.

After two days at sea, I was introduced to another Captain, the Manager of the Commercial Bank of Morocco. This man gave me his address in CASABLANCA and said that he would help me if I would call on him when I was in Casablanca.

The 13th August, on arrival at ORAN, we stayed in the barracks until we were entrained for the Legion’s H.Q. at SIDI -BELL-ABBES, arriving there at midnight.

On the 14th August, I left the Legion’s H.Q. and went into the town of Bell-Abbes, changed into Civilian clothes, which I had brought with me, and went to the station to try and get a ticket for CASABLANCA. I was unsuccessful, as I could not produce an identity card. I stayed the night in a hotel, after persuading the manager that I was an American journalist. The following morning, I was questioned by two detectives but still maintained that I was an American journalist, who had just arrived from Marseilles to assist the authorities with the welfare of British soldiers. I produced a faked passport from which they noted down certain particulars, returned it to me and then asked when I was leaving for Casablanca. I told them by the night train.

After this I got in touch with some Foreign Legion soldiers, and was told that the Russian officer was asking for me, and decided to return to the barracks. On the way, I managed to retrieve my uniform from the hotel in which I had changed the day before. On the 19th August, I entrained with the Legion for FEZ. Arriving at Fez on the 21st August, I left the Legion and took a train, which arrived at Casablanca on the next night.

I visited the French Captain whom I had met on the “Sidi-Bel-Abbs”, and was informed by him that he was a secret agent of the French Army. He put me in touch with a Mr Stanton of the American Consulate, whom he knew well. My particulars were taken and I was able to send a cable home.

The Captain and Mr Stanton made arrangements for me to live outside the town at one of the Captain’s employees’ houses. Arrangements were also made with the Police. I stayed here some weeks, only coming into the town to ask whether any instructions had been received from England.

During one of these visits, I heard that Lieutenant Hopkins (M.I.9/S/P.G.(F)60) was in Casablanca and had been asking for me. I met him on the 6th September and he informed me of a scheme, organised by some Moroccan Jews, by which we were to board a certain Spanish fishing boat, which on entering the Straits of Gibraltar, would be intercepted by a British warship.

On the 8th September, I went with the rest of the party to FEDHALA, where we spent the afternoon on the sands, awaiting this boat. At dusk, we saw a boat leave the harbour, but it returned shortly after. We spent the night on the beach, and in the morning, I made my way to the American Consul in Casablanca, as the scheme did not appeal to me. As there was no news, I returned to the beach where at about 1700 hours we all got on a boat, which had appeared. While the boat was waiting for three of our party, the Police came across the sands. I asked the Captain of the boat to make a break for it, but he refused to do so as they might have shot at him.

We were taken from the boat to Fedhala Police Station, where we were searched. The Police then got in touch with the Naval Authorities and, after a lengthy discussion as to whom was responsible for us, we spent the night in the Police Station.

The following morning a Naval Official appeared and we were taken to a steamship (“MASSELIA”) used as a Naval barracks. During our interrogation by the Naval Authorities, I gathered that some one had tipped off the police about the fishing boat.

During our stay an aircraft was shot down and two A.Cs of the crew were put into the cabin next to the one I shared with two Belgian and a French officer.

From here, we were taken to the military barracks in Casablanca and, during our stay there, were questioned several times.

From the barracks we were sent to a native camp at MEDIOUNA. The French Officer with us went to hospital with a bad arm. At the camp we were put into a hut surrounded by a barbed wire fence about two yards thick and guarded by Arab sentries. The Camp Commandment, Colonel Fonseca, interviewed us and seemed very pro German as the Dakar affair had just occurred.

In spite of this, we were well treated, and occasionally junior officers paid us visits.

Later we were interrogated by the Police, who suspected us of being members of a political organisation recruiting for General de Gaulle. A list of suspected persons was shown to me and I recognised the name of the Captain in Casablanca. The only other name I can remember is MURRAY. The list of names was composed of British civilians. The French Captain was later arrested and questioned.

Occasionally we were allowed to go to the pictures and visit the Camp casino.

We tried to win over the Arab sentries, as they apparently did not know why we were there. After some time, I got quite friendly with the Chef de Poste and talked about getting out of the camp. It was easy enough to get out, but the difficulty was to decide what direction to take. We could not get in touch with our Consul, as he did not want to become embroiled in any unofficial scheme. Three courses were open to us: -
(a) Go into Casablanca and try to contact someone there,
(b) Avoid Casablanca and work North to the Spanish Morocco frontier, and
(c) Go south and try to get into Bathurst.

Eventually, we made up our minds to go to Casablanca first and, on the 18th November, having decided to leave the camp in pairs, drew lots as to which pair should go first. I was to go first with a Belgian Flying Officer. We then cut the wires of the surrounding fence.

The following morning we left the camp, but Hardy, an English A.C. and a Belgian A.C. failed to turn up at the rendezvous arranged.

After getting in touch with some Belgian friends, we went to the house of a French woman, who, it was rumoured, had been a helper of Nurse Cavell in the 1914-18 war. We stayed here until the 21st November, when an Austrian, Mr Natzler, came and took us to a French doctor’s house. While we were there, Mr Natzler informed me that there was a Portuguese boat, “MIRA AZUL”, in the harbour of Casablanca and that there were a certain number of British soldiers hiding on board.

That night, with the Air Crew one or two civilians and Mr Natzler, we made our way to the port, climbed over a wall and got on board by a hole cut in the forecastle. We entered a hold, which was supposed to be loaded with grain. Once on board, the hole was closed up and we remained below until about midday on the 22nd November, when the boat sailed.

The boat was searched, just before the Captain received his discharge from the Port Authorities, and again, just as it was leaving the harbour, when a Police launch drew alongside, but no one was discovered.

The other personnel on the boat, besides myself, consisted of two English civilians, Dahm and Hands, the Austrian, Mr Natzler, two Belgian men and twelve British O.R.s making a total of 17.

We sailed North and were met by the destroyer H.M.S. “KELVIN”, G37, in the Straits of Gibraltar, and taken into Gibraltar harbour. Here all British soldiers were attached to the 4th Devonshire Regt., while the civilians went to hotels.

INTERVIEWED by M.I.9 on 16th December 1940.
M.I.3(a) and M.I.6 were advised of the date and time of this interview.

DISTRIBUTION: -

M.I.3(a)
M.I.6
M.I.14.
P.W.3 – Extracts
M.I.9. File copy – 3 copies.

/QUOTE]


Ron Hawkins was taken to Vichy and interned with my Grandfather Major Bill Potts and his friend Captain Bobbie Besley. See above my grandfathers escape report. I still have the diary with Ron Hawkins address in Ipswich in it. They all, with another two Royal Engineer officers, got a train to Marseilles where the adventure continued. I have been in touch with John Hawkins who is an excellent man, especiallyafter losing so much!