“Remember-where-you-when” is a universal opener for anecdotes.  Yesterday’s (Sunday 23 August 2009) heartening Ashes victory for England sent my thoughts tumbling back to two contrasted encounters with the Old Enemy, linked, almost fantastically, by the B-29 bomber, known as the Washington in the days when I flew in them as an air-gunner.  I had been called up by The King, but arrived to serve The Queen.  That’ll give you the dates.

My diary for the day we won the Ashes, Wednesday 19 August 1953, began with another world event – MOSSADIG (sic) DEPOSED.  It then related an interesting day in our B-29 WF 566, part of Exercise Momentum.  Places we flew over included Rheims, the Zuider Zee, London, Bristol, the Channel Islands, Le Mans, Le Havre, Eastbourne, Hull then home to Marham.

After noting that we flew at 20,000 feet and saw many allied fighters sharing the exercise with us, I broke off to record: “ENGLAND WON ASHES – scores 306 and 132 for 2, Ozzies 275 +160.  Lock (spinner) hero. 2nd Inns Edrich 60 odd”.

I cannot check these figures but they add up: diary texts must never be amended anyway.  But I recall that the whole crew, all ten of us, had abandoned attention to the Exercise and were listening to the cricket.  I think we were over Bedford when Compton hit the winning boundary.  I’d love to say we were over The Oval but we were not.  If a Communist fighter had attacked us at that moment we would have died blissful but undecorated.

On 6 August 1945 my late father took me and two brothers to Lords for a day at the Victory Test against Australia.  The Australians had a scratch side, made up of any lads available here.  They had a bowler called Christophani, who scored 14.  I don’t know why I remember that.  Miller played, I think, but not Bradman.  Pope was our captain.  Hutton scored 34, falling LBW attempting a leg-glance.  “His favourite shot,” Dad said.  We lost, I believe.  My current (only) Wisden is silent on the point.  As we left the ground the papers were telling us that a bomb no bigger than a golf ball had destroyed a Japanese city.  It was dropped by another B-29, Enola Gay.

I still go to B-29 and 207 Squadron reunions.  And to Test Matches.  I was a happy lad on the first day at Lords this year, and pretty happy on the second day at Edgbaston, but my last day there was hard to bear.  The Australians ground us out of the game and set themselves up mentally for their triumph at Headingly.  But then there was yesterday, such a beautiful day.  Shall I see another like it?  Or fly in a B-29 again?