THE LANCASTER BOMBER AND THE GUINEA PIG

By  Sammi 

2006

Unaccustomed as I am to sitting in the centre of camping site filled with members of SAGA et al, I did however, found myself sitting in one, not too far away this week, observing the scenery of men of very advanced years walking about topless and talking in gentle voices of varying dialects about different types of exotic sounding camping gadgets, and how their friends were appearing in the “Goodbye and Thank You” sections of the papers. 

Not the recipe for disaster as you may expect. 

You see, what most people don’t realise, is that people of this particular age are actually quite fascinating. They have lived.

Mother had decided to visit sunny Lancashire, and as she insisted on bringing her “floating bedroom” (AKA a very small Ariba caravan filled with her paraphernalia), and one small five month old Norwich terrier, I was in for a treat!

It wasn’t long before one gentle faced gentlemen soon found himself coming unstuck as he had knelt down to pet the little dog. The hydraulics in his legs appeared to fail when trying to get up again. So, as you do, a chair and a bottle of water was offered and he sat down, smiling benignly.

After a little idle chit chat, I noticed that this lovely gentleman was wearing a badge on his T-Shirt.

Accustomed to the working of the RAF, I couldn’t puzzle this one out. I’ve heard about pigs might fly, but had the RAF gone mad? 

No it seems, this enigma was actually a member of the guinea pig club. I must therefore introduce the  youthful looking 83 year old Flight Sergeant Alan Morgan (Retired).


Already fascinated by this man, I had never noticed his hands until he mentioned the fact that he had lost his fingers in the war. 


Armed with a thumb, he unscrewed the tight lid of the water bottle and soon told me the tale.

Air Engineer Alan was part of a Lancaster Bomber crew on 49 Sqn and due to celebrate his 21st birthday. 

Instead of being able to go home for his birthday, he went to Stuttgart instead in a Lancaster JB421. 

After the bombs had been dropped for the plane, they turned round and headed for home, but the plane was rocked by a heavy blast of flak over the target. This blew the rear door open.

The plane was flying at 22,000 feet at the time, which meant that it was icy cold and that oxygen was needed. The Wireless operator, Frank Campbell was sent to close the door, which was no mean feat as struggling though the inside of a Lancaster at that altitude is harder than you could possibly imagine.

After about 10 minutes, Frank had not come back and the inside if the plane was getting colder, so Alan was sent to see what was wrong. 

By torchlight, he discovered that Frank had collapsed as his oxygen bottle had run out . Alan removed his gloves and with oxygen, revived Frank, before using the same bottle to breathe from. 

He managed to close the door and he was looking for his gloves when he passed out. Five minutes later, the rear gunner had seen what had happened, and the aircraft was quickly taken down to 10,000 feet, a height at which they could breathe unaided.

Alan woke up with very cold hands, and it wasn’t until he was taken to a hospital in Chichester that the state of his hands became clear. 

The hands were out into a pair of saline gloves which was actually the wrong thing to do.  

So, after 10 days, Professor Archie McIndoe placed the hands into buckets of ice.   

The Professor was  a pioneering plastic surgeon who rebuilt the faces and bodies of  the war torn men, so that they would not be avoided by family and friends. 

The members of this elite collection of people became known as “The Guinea Pig Club”. (See picture on the left, 1944)

Sadly, Alan’s’ fingers had gone black with gangrene,  and they were amputated along with one thumb.   (Pictured is Alan, 2006)

Three months later, on the 10th June 1944, he married his girlfriend Ella. 

After more surgery on his hands, he managed to learn to use a knife and fork, dress himself – even putting a tie on. There was no stopping him. 

He even managed to go back to flying MK III Halifaxes and was promoted to Flight Sergeant.    

Alan was surprised when I told him about Kirkham prison. He had been there when it was still an RAF base, and had set up the tables for the demob. He had put his name down, and was demobbed – not invalided out at Kirkham.

Life as a Civvy found him working at Cooke and Ferguson in Audenshaw as a precision jig borer!

War stories as personal as this are living history and should be treasured, because frankly, I cannot see any 12 year old these days willing to out their life on the line. 

Life was so very different in these days, the raids had to be delayed form time to time so that production of the aircraft could catch up, as so many were lost in the raids. A case of “Sorry, we can’t fight just yet – we’ve run out of planes””

The Guinea Pig club may fold soon due to the age of the Committee and it’s members, and Alan was very coy when he told me that he was due to meet Vera Lynn late this year, and he has made a bird house for her. Alan and Ella are still happily married and camping at leisure.  Who ever would have guess that sitting in a campsite would enable me to meet a War Hero?

Fast forward to 2024, and I found myself in East Grinstead, West Sussex in geocacher mode and stumbled upon this amazing statue (GC9P7DB)

East Grinstead residents went out of their way to accept the Guinea Pigs and this is the reason why the town became known as 'The Town That Didn't Stare.' 

I was instantly reminded of Alan Morgan.

What an honour to meet this Hero.