Flying Officer Robert Henry ALTOFT

Service: Royal Australian Air Force
Service Number: 425478

Born: 20 May 1922 — Brisbane, QLD Australia

Enlisted: 28 March 1942—Brisbane, QLD

Killed in Action: 29 May 1944—San Angelo, Italy
Posting on Death: 450 Squadron

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A copy of a letter that my Uncle Bob (Robert Altoft No. 425478) sent to my father who at the time had recently returned home from Army Service.

The letter is quite descriptive of what the 450 Squadron was doing at the time. This is the only letter from Robert that I found in my father’s possessions. I guess the reason he kept it all these years is that it was the last letter he received from him. The letter is dated 27/5/44 and Robert was killed on 29/5/44.

Kathy Dakin (Robert’s neice)

Below is the best possible transcription of the letter from Robert (Bob) to his brother, Les.

Saturday 27/5/44

Dear Les,

Received your a/o of 8/5 this morning and must admit I was pleasantly surprised. It really is good to hear from you again, I was beginning to think you had disowned me.

Thanks for the birthday greetings Les, yes, I did have a happy one. I can’t remember when yours is, believe it’s in Sept. Set me right will you.

I’ve now been on the Squadron since early April and it’s a great life, though there are quite a few anxious moments. There is little enemy air opposition, and we have been doing mostly army co op work. Cutting communications, harassing (The Desert Harassers)—enemy M/T etc. Some of our ‘sorts’ have been sticky ones but always manage to get back OK. Without shooting a line. I think I can honestly say that this morning was my closest shave. Went down strafing through all types of flak and lined up a beaut ammo truck in my sights. I was so intent on getting the damn thing to burn that I didn’t notice that it was parked under a telephone post till I was almost on top of it. How I missed I don’t know I felt sure as I pulled the stick back, I was going to get a pole up—well where a pole just wouldn’t fit.

If anyone tells you that precision bombing is better than Kittyhawk bombing—don’t believe it.
We’ve had so much practise now that we can hit a threepenny bit! I dropped a bomb 2 x 500 lbs on a large M.T. yesterday. There was nothing left of the truck just a big hole in the ground—or road.

Our main trouble is flak, but it’s amazing just how much of the stuff a Kitty can take. They just seem to lap it up, no trouble at all.

My tour—200 hours—is well on it’s way have now done 80 hrs with forty odd sorties.
We are now among very fertile land and spend our leisure hours up cherry trees gorging ourselves. After our days flying we generally finish up in a nearby snow fed river and though the water is a bit cool, it’s very invigorating and we have quite a good wash. The only thing about is that we all bath in the nude whilst Italian women stop working in the wheat fields to have a good old look.

You’re a lucky buggar to be home again with Grace & Clarree. Give them my love. Gosh it seems like years and years since I last saw you all. Still the way things are now going, it shouldn’t be long before this is all over and we’ll all be back in ‘harvest’ again.

All the best Les, and next time you have a chance have a beer on me.

Your loving brother, Bob.