My father was Cecil Harold (Jack) Welch. Like many of his generation, he was born in 1921 in London, he decided to volunteer for the forces in 1940, so that he could have some choice about where he went. Initially he volunteered for the Tank Corps, but at 5ft 8ins he was too tall, so he joined the RAF. He married my mother in 1940, she was a WAAF involved in recruiting.

I was born in 1950, the middle of three children. For the remainder of his life, my Dad would not talk too much about the war. He never went on an aeroplane again after he was demobbed in 1946. My Mother only flew again in 1985, after Dad had died. All I knew was that he was in Bomber Command (Wellington) and that the time in the RAF left him emotionally scarred and very unhappy about the triumphalist attitude that often surfaces about WW11.

In 1991, Mum was moving house. On the day before the move I checked the loft (attic) to make sure it was empty. In the corner of the loft was a small, brown, battered case. Mum was for throwing it out, but I insisted on opening it. Inside were many of my Father’s papers, his medals and his scrapbook. What a find. I now have the papers and my two daughters have the medals amongst their most treasured possessions.

The scrapbook contained photographs and memories of Mum and Dad’s time in the RAF. There are the classic pictures of crews under their Wellingtons, relaxing around the airfields and at training camps. The airfields were named as Wing (Bucks) Little Horwood (Bucks) and Blackbushe (Hampshire). Blackbushe I knew well, as I had driven past it many times, but the others were unknown. We decided to make a visit to Wing, just to the west of Cheddington, to see what was left. After much searching we found what was left of the airfield and took a few photos. Later we went to Little Horwood and took some more photos.

It became obvious that many of the WW11 airfields of the RAF and USAAF were fast disappearing, so I decided that I would photographs as many as I could. When my youngest daughter decided to go to study at The University of East Anglia, my hobby became even more important to me.

Earlier this year I came across a web site for the Mighty 8th Museum in Savannah and left a message letting people know about my photograph collection. As a result of this I have now been contacted by hundreds of veterans, asking "what is left of my old airfield"? I have scanned the photos onto the computer and am delighted to email images out to these veterans.

Many veterans and their relatives, ask me for help about travelling around the airfields, where to stay and the names of local contacts. Consequently, I wondered whether a tour would be a good idea. The response so far would suggest that a substantial number of people would appreciate some form of assistance. Let’s see what happens.