YOU may well have noted the slightly ramshackle house halfway down Upper Neatham Mill Lane, Alton. Indeed, “Pop”, as he was known to friends and family, was never much of a housekeeper inside nor out.

Uncle Doug often chuckles about the summer afternoon when he visited. Hearing Dame Vera Lynn’s dulcet tones from the garden, he fought his way through the undergrowth to a clearing where he found Pop sitting in his deck chair, next to an upside-down dustbin which was sporting a gingham table cloth, enjoying a fine Cuban cigar and a drop of Châteauneuf-du-Pape while checking the FTSE in The Telegraph to see how his shares were faring.

Being born and bred in Nether Street, Alton, Uncle Pop had never slept anywhere other than his own bed until he was called up at 18. From Alton Secondary Modern he had gone to work with a local engineering firm, so the call to arms seemed rather exciting to a small town boy.

After the initial six weeks’ training, he once recalled to me his chest was bursting with pride when he marched down Nether Street on his first home visit wearing his new uniform.

“Quick,” shouted the local kids, “it’s an airman”. His ardour was soon deflated when he heard: “Ah no – it’s only Pop Chandler.”

The planned two years of training was reduced to six months on Stirlings, as flight engineers and other crew were desperately needed at the front. After four ‘ops’ he was transferred to Lancasters with a handbook to study to familiarise himself with the alternative aircraft.

He went on to fly a further 24 ops in Lancasters and always said his “greenness” was fully displayed on one of his first ops in a Stirling.

Attending the main target briefing, the engineer leader said: “Engineers, window one a minute, two a minute, 40 miles from target.” Having no idea what “window” meant, he whispered to Sgt Brooks “What’s window?”. “I’ll tell you outside,” came the reply.

True to his word Sgt Oliver Brooks, who became a great friend, showed “Chick”, as he was known in the RAF (after the famous actor Chick Chandler), a strip of tin foil or “chaff”.

“It buggers up the enemy radar,” Oliver informed him.

As they approached the enemy coastline, Uncle Pop carefully picked up one small strip of tin foil and dispatched it, followed by another single strip each minute thereafter.

Because of a failed engine they jettisoned their bombs and returned home early, where one of the ground crew observed the huge amount of chaff they had left. Pop then realised he was supposed to have thrown one bundle out per minute – not one tiny strip!

Pops first flew with No XV Squadron. But after suffering heavy damage during a raid on Dusseldorf in April 1944, which resulted in the death of two crew and a crash landing back in England, the remaining crew were broken up and he was transferred to No 622 Squadron.

The squadron was disbanded on August 15, 1945 – but was reformed in 2012 and “Chick” became great friends with the crew and attended many of their functions at Brize Norton. The CO and liaison officer visited him in the last weeks of his life and later expressed their sadness at his loss.

After the war, Pop returned home for a few months before realising civilian life wasn’t for him, so went back to the RAF where he excelled, becoming warrant officer and enjoying postings in the UK as well as Germany and France.

He was always a keen sportsman, and spent most days in Orange, in the south of France, playing tennis with the town mayor or sampling the latest creation by the chef of his favourite local restaurant.

On another posting, the CO was a keen golfer so he and Pop “modified” the airfield to practise their putting skills together. Back home he went on to be the first amateur to win the National Cup at Wentworth and I believe his photo taken on that day still hangs in Alton Golf Club, where he was a lifetime member and enjoyed a pint with his pals right up until a few months before his death.

Preparing for his retirement from the RAF, he bought 7, Upper Neatham Mill Lane in 1975. Once settled, he threw himself into village life, working as a porter at Treloar’s and giving a lot of his personal time to the school and students.

When it came to light the dilapidated village hall had been built on church property and owed the church for its footprint, a committee was formed to raise money. Pop took the bull by the horns and held a 50-50 furniture auction in Treloar School Hall. Another auction followed at Bonhams Hall, and over the years he was involved in many of the projects to update and enhance the village hall.

Being a keen member of the Royal Air Forces Association, when Dr Everett resurrected the Armistice Day service in the village, Pop was instrumental and attended every year, marching right up until he was aged 94 – taking the last two years a bit easier.

He was awarded Chevalier in l’Ordre National de la Légion d’Honneur in 2016, the highest merit awarded by France, in recognition of the acknowledged military engagement and steadfast involvement in the liberation of France during the Second World War.

He is greatly missed by his family and was laid to rest in the churchyard of the Church of the Holy Rood.

Because of the Covid-19 restrictions, it was a very small service conducted in the churchyard by his nephew Rev Derek Chandler. But a celebration of his life is planned for next year.

* By Sally Lloyd

Niece of Cecil Harry Chandler (1923-2020)