Somehow he always seemed to be in good form and was immensely popular with everyone. He enjoyed playing bridge and we used to have many a game together in the Mess while waiting to go up to Flights. He was also very intelligent and cultured, read a great deal and so was a very good and interesting conversationalist. So far as I can remember he was a good pilot, certainly above average, and threw himself heart and soul into training.

Many people have said what a welcome addition the American destroyers would be to our fleet. I am sure that no one is likely to give them a more hearty and grateful welcome than that given by my crew and myself one afternoon a couple of weeks ago, when, after drifting aimlessly about in a rubber dinghy off the coast of Ireland for a very long time we suddenly saw on the crest of a wave the funnels of a destroyer.

It happened like this: We had been detailed to escort a convoy and had met it inbound at about midday. Several hours later while we were still on patrol, the rear gunner reported a trace of smoke from the starboard engine. I could see very little myself; the oil and radiator temperatures were quite normal and I was not unduly worried. I decided, however, to return to base at once and the wireless operator reported to base that we were doing so. But almost immediately our trouble increased, the engine got very hot - and so did I - and it was only a matter of a very few minutes before we found ourselves cooling rather rapidly in the Atlantic.

Their raft is a huge orange doughnut, and within its circle five men are squatting, one of them frantically waving a canvas paddle aloft. A minute more and they are abeam - hardly 50 yds away. As we sweep by they wave frantically and then sink dejectedly. But we are only manoeuvring to put our ship's bulk between the raft and the wind. In another two minutes we have turned and are coming back. Now our engines are off. We drift slowly toward them. Now they're just abeam. One fellow paddles frantically until the raft bumps the ship's side. Now our propellers boilingly backwater at the command and ropes go writhing down toward their grappling hands. A ship's ladder goes over our side.

But who are they? These staring, bleary-eyed men with salt-drenched blond hair, who sag weakly in the bobbing raft? "Germans!" guesses one of our crew. "We picked some of the blighters up last month. One of their aircraft came down."

"Nah, they aren't!" says another Cockney scornfully. "Look at the uniforms, will ye? They're no Jerries - that's our own RAF". And so it is. The water-soaked horizon blue of the RAF under the orange life jackets - orange because it is the color most vividly contrasting with the sea's blue-green. Numb hands are now reaching up for our ropes. It is much too rough to launch a boat.

One of the aviators rises wildly, unsteadily grapples at a rope, is too weak to wrap it around him, topples into the sea. Instantly a sailor goes over our rail, comes up behind the man with the loose-rolling head and wild eves just out of the water. He ties the rope under his arms and pushes him to the dangling ship's ladder. But he's too weak to manage the rungs with his cold hands and feet, so three sailors pull his sea-chilled body up and over the side. The others with a little help from our sailors mount the wooden rungs and reach the solid safety of steel deck, and are half led, half carried down to the cozy warmth of our wardroom.

This officer has carried out 28 bombing missions involving 230 hours flying as well as 6 convoy patrols on which some 40 hours were spent in the air. His operational flights include attacks on important targets in Germany and Italy. On two occasions he has been forced down on the sea, on one of which he was in the dinghy for 22 hours in an Atlantic gale. On both occasions his courage and inspired leadership, combined with a complete knowledge of dinghy drill, were largely responsible for the survival of his crews. He has always shown the greatest keenness to seek out and destroy his targets.

This officer participated in the first large scale attack on Naples, pressing home his attack, in the face of an intense barrage, with great determination. On another occasion, he bombed the Castel Benito aerodrome and then descended to 1,000 feet to machine gun dispersed aircraft by the light of flares released by other attacking aircraft. At least two aircraft on the ground were set on fire and a gun emplacement silenced.

On a further occasion, when returning to Malta from a raid on Tripoli, a stick of bombs burst on the aerodrome while Squadron Leader Young was landing his aircraft, setting fire to a bomb loaded aeroplane. Displaying great coolness, he completed his landing and avoided obstructions on the runway. He dispersed his aircraft, then took charge of the flare path and had it moved so that the remainder of the squadron were enabled to land safely. This officer has always shown the greatest courage and determination both in the air and on the ground. He has won the entire confidence of his crews.

The plan for the operation was that three waves of aircraft would be employed. The first wave of nine aircraft, led by Gibson, would attack the Mohne Dam, then the Eder followed by other targets as directed by wireless from 5 Group HQ if any weapons were still available. This wave would fly in three sections of three aircraft, about ten minutes apart, led by Guy Gibson, Melvin Young and Henry Maudslay. Melvin was to fly accompanied by David Maltby and David Shannon. The second wave would fly, by a different route to confuse enemy defences, to the Sorpe Darn. Indeed, because this route was slightly longer via the islands off north Holland, the second wave actually took off before the first wave. The third wave, also of five aircraft, was to set off later and act as a mobile reserve to be used against such dams as were still unbroken. In all nineteen Type 464 aircraft and their crews were available. The crews of Divall and Wilson had sickness and one aircraft could not be repaired from damage during training.

The Operational Executive Order required that the raid be flown at low level, not above 500 feet, except between Ahlen, the final waypoint, and the target where the leader of each section should climb to 1,000 feet ten miles from the target, presumably to ensure finding the target with certainty. For reasons of surprise, it would be desirable to fly as low as possible to reduce the chance of being seen by the German radar, and thus risk interception by fighters, and to minimize the time of exposure to anti-aircraft guns (flak). The 500 feet limit was an acceptance that it would be essential to identify turning points accurately and the section leaders would have felt particular responsibility to ensure that they kept to the route, which had been devised to avoid known flak locations as far as possible. After the raid Maltby and Shannon commented that Melvin had shown a tendency to fly higher than them, and they had used Aldis signal lamps to warn him to keep low. For his part he would have been feeling a great responsibility to lead his team accurately. It may also be that, with relatively little recent flying, on his first operation in a Lancaster and his first at all for nearly a year, and with a crew with little operational experience, he was more concerned about hitting obstacles on the ground than they were - he had never seen himself as "the fighter pilot type".

The hazards of low level operations over enemy, territory were such that Harris generally disapproved of using heavy bombers in this role. Operation Chastise was an exception, but the loss on the raid of several aircraft to flak and surface impact supports Harris's general view.

It is with deep regret that I write to confirm my telegram advising you that your son, Squadron Leader Henry Melvin Young D.F.C., is missing as a result of operations.

Squadron Leader Young was a great personal friend of mine and was himself largely responsible for the success of this operation. He was deputy leader of this raid and I watched him drop his load in exactly the right position with great precision. Afterwards we led the raid on the Eder dam and he and I flew on the return journey back to base. Somewhere, however, between the target and the enemy coast he ran into trouble and has not returned.

If as is possible your son was able to abandon his aircraft and land safely in enemy territory, news should reach you direct from the International Red Cross Committee within the next six weeks. Please accept my sincere sympathy during this anxious period of waiting.