A father and son reunion in spirit
He came back to Trinity to honour the father he never knew.
Donald Gould (’59) was just two years old when his dad’s Lancaster bomber was shot down by German anti-aircraft guns over Eindhoven on February 21, 1945.
Francis Gould (’34), one of 44 Trinitarians to have died serving their country in war, never came back to Australia; he was buried in Holland.
Donald’s presence as guest of honour at Trinity’s 2024 ANZAC Day service was a stark reminder that every one of those 44 crosses on the quad represents a boy who once walked the same paths and played on the same fields.
The 81-year-old was almost lost for words as he heard the Last Post, and the Ode to the Fallen, then stood behind his dad’s cross on a solemn day uniting father-and-son Old Boys in spirit as they were for just a precious few months in the flesh.
“I just don’t quite know how to describe it,” he said.
“There’s a certain sadness but also a pride in my father, and in the old School.
“It means a lot coming back to the old School, knowing that it was his School, too.”
Sadly, Donald still knows precious little about his dad.
Just as the survivors of war found it hard to speak of the horrors they endured, so the bereaved found it hard to speak of their loss.
“I have no recollection of him at all. My mother was so upset when she lost him, and I think the rest of the family was, too … for my grandparents, he was their only son … and people didn’t like to talk about him. So, I know nothing about him at all.
“I don’t feel robbed but there’s a slight unhappiness there that my father, who would have been one of the biggest influences in my life, hasn’t been there.
“He volunteered to go overseas, as a lot of them did, and he gave his life.”
He said World War II air crew needed a “different sort of bravery” than troops on the ground.
“They weren’t opposite (the enemy) in trenches; they would go home to a comfortable meal and a comfortable bed. But they didn’t know when they were going off (to fight), whether it was that day or the next day, and when they were on a mission they had to fly the plane through flak and fighters and they couldn’t take any action (to avoid that).
“It must have been an incredible experience with all that going on around you. Bomber Command had the highest casualty rate in the war.”
He experienced a “great feeling of nostalgia” looking across the quad.
“I obviously physically see the new buildings but my brain doesn’t. I still see on the northern side of the quadrangle the old timber building. The new swimming pool wasn’t there; absolutely nothing was there.
“I remember watching the building of the (War Memorial) Chapel (completed in 1957). We spent a lot of time watching the construction during breaks, and I was lucky to be in the chapel for the dedication service.
“I was in the Cadets and on one occasion we practised firing at the rifle range. I can’t see that happening now.”
He played lower grade rugby. “We were not worried about winning, we just enjoyed playing. The only school we did not want to lose against was Cranbrook and we always won those games.
“I remember the Headmaster, Mr Hogg, saying in assembly every Friday morning, ‘I don’t mind if you win or lose, I just want to see a clean, hard, fast game’. We really took that to heart.”
Donald said he felt privileged being sent to a school like Trinity “especially by a single mother”.
“She made great sacrifices. I think it was a good school and it did a lot for me.”
A fateful decision
Francis Gould was so keen to see action in World War Two that he applied twice to join the RAAF after working as a clerk in the Army Records Office.
His fateful wish was granted in May, 1943, soon after Donald was born.
Five months later he was off to Canada, then the UK for training, never to return.
Born at East Maitland in 1916, Frank Gould attended Trinity from 1927-1934 and was remembered by a school acquaintance as “a happy lad who worked hard and consistently at his studies, ever ready to take his place on the field of sport and who took part enthusiastically in all School activities.” After matriculating from high school he joined the Commonwealth Bank in Marrickville and began studying economics part-time at Sydney University.
He flew just three missions in the war.
His first operational posting in January, 1945, was to a squadron equipped with Lancaster heavy bombers based at Waddington in the UK.
One week later his first mission was a successful raid on an oil refinery near Leipzig, where only one aircraft was lost.
Four days later he was part of an unsuccessful attack on the town of Bohlen which cost the life of the squadron’s master bomber.
On February 21, 1945, he took part in his third and final mission in one of 165 Lancasters attempting to breach the Mitteland Canal near Gravenhorst.
Crews referred to this flight as the “milk run”.
The canal had been bombed so often that German anti-aircraft crews could leave their guns ranged for the next attack; the danger from ground defences was therefore significant.
Heavy cloud prevented an attack the previous night. Improved weather allowed the mission to go ahead, and the canal was breached, but the clearer skies also meant the attacking aircraft were easier targets.
Shortly before dropping its bomb load, Frank Gould’s plane was “coned” by searchlights and hit by heavy flak.
The pilot ordered the crew to bale out but only two were able to do so before the plane exploded, killing all who remained on board.
Flight sergeant Frank Gould was 29 years old when he died in action.
The Triangle reported his death, describing him as “a man of well-balanced character possessing a high code of ethics and always popular.”
The obituary said he was mourned by “his wife, his baby son Donald and many pals who will miss him greatly. We are all proud of Frank, very proud.”
*Source: Trinity Remembers by Robert Scott
This article originally appeared in our June 2024 Edition of Trinity News which you can view on our online digital bookshelf.
