On a cool fall day, David Rohrer wriggles into the cockpit of one of the last two of 7,377 Lancaster World War II bombers that remain airworthy today. Seventy-eight years after it was assembled in southern Ontario, its four 1,640-horse-power engines roar to life.
Bones shake as it barrels down the runway at the Hamilton International Airport on one of 50 flights offered each year from June 1 through Nov. 11 by the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum. Passengers pay $3,900 to board the living history piece for a one-hour tour past downtown Toronto and the CN Tower and down to Niagara Falls and back.
Once in the air, the noise of the engines is constant and tremendous. Speech is almost impossible so hand signals are used to communicate.
The Lancaster flies over Hamilton's airport, the starting point for its one-hour tours to Niagara Falls and Toronto and back.
The Lancasters were among the most iconic aircraft used in the Second World War. They delivered huge payloads of bombs during terrifying missions – mostly at night amid a barrage of exploding shells – and more than half of the planes were lost.
Of the 125,000 airmen who served in the Royal Bomber Command, 55,573 didn’t come home. Of those casualties, more than 10,000 were Canadian.
Crews that survived flights over Germany often limped back to airbases with the planes’ metal fuselage so riddled with enemy fire that it looked like a honeycomb.
Lancasters carried a crew of seven with an average age of 22. The life expectancy of a new recruit was two weeks.
“When we fly this airplane, it is in honour of their duty,” says Mr. Rohrer, a former Air Force pilot and the president and chief executive officer of the Canadian Warplane Museum. It is Canada’s largest plane museum and the most popular tourism destination within Hamilton, with more than 100,000 visitors per year.
“That generation was called upon in a very difficult situation and they answered even though they knew the odds weren’t on their side.
“We fly in friendly territory and under beautiful blue skies and there are no night fighters trying to shoot us down. It is unbelievable what these guys went through.”
The Lancaster in Hamilton was No. 413 of 430 Lancaster bombers manufactured by Victory Aircraft in Malton, Ont., now the site of Pearson International Airport. One a day rolled off the assembly line from August of 1943 until April of 1945.
The plane was never used in combat because the European theatre ended shortly after it was built and the Pacific theatre soon followed. It was placed in storage in Trenton, Ont., for five years until it was designated for use in maritime reconnaissance and rescue missions out of Greenwood, N.S. and Torbay, N.L., which is now the St. John’s International Airport. It was deployed in this manner for 19 years.
The aircraft was retired in late 1963 and given to the Legion branch in Goderich, Ont., where it was displayed outside the entrance.
“It became the biggest bird-poop collector in Ontario,” Mr. Rohrer says.
With help from a charitable foundation, it was purchased for $10,000 by the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum and moved to Hamilton in 1979. Over the course of a decade it was painstakingly restored by volunteers, most of whom had flown in Lancasters.
It was flown again for the first time on Sept. 11, 1988. A public unveiling was held. “We expected a couple of thousand people to show up and 20,000 came,” says Al Mickeloff, the museum’s marketing manager.
The Lancaster, shown in 1977, was in a poor state when the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum got it.Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum
Andrew Mynarski, the plane's namesake, was a gunner who died trying to save his tail gunner in 1944, a few days after the D-Day landing.
The plane is named in honour of Andrew Mynarski, a Winnipeg airman who served as the mid-upper gunner on a Lancaster crew in the RCAF’s 419 Squadron. His aircraft flew over Normandy on D-Day on June 6, 1944 and six nights later took part in a nighttime raid – its 13th mission – on a rail yard in Cambrai, France. The aircraft was raked with machine-gun fire and cannons. It caught fire and the captain ordered the crew to bail out.
Mr. Mynarski went to jump but then saw that his friend, Pat Brophy, the tail gunner, was stuck in the turret at the rear. There was a fire between Mr. Mynarski and the turret because hydraulic lines had been struck. He crawled through the flames to help as the Lancaster was going down. They were unable to get the turret unjammed and Mr. Brophy eventually told Mr. Mynarski, “Andrew, save yourself.”
Mr. Mynarski crawled back through the flames and jumped to his death out the rear door. He was on fire and his clothes were on fire, as was his parachute, which did not open. The plane crashed in such a way that the rear turret was thrown clear and Mr. Brophy survived to tell the story. He was rescued and hidden by the French Underground and eventually spirited back to England.
Based on that, Mr. Mynarski posthumously received the Victoria Cross, the highest award for gallantry that can be awarded to British and Commonwealth Forces. The medal was presented to his mother in Winnipeg. He was 27 at the time of his death.
“I think of that sacrifice as I fly that airplane,” Mr. Rohrer says. “I just think what a privilege it is to have it, to fly it and to share it with other people. We do not do this to glorify war because war is a failure of mankind to avoid peacefully resolving differences. But you have to respect the sacrifice of those who in a time of need answered the call.
“For us to be able to present that legacy, and to share what some of it might have been like, is just an honour.”
In the rear of the cockpit windows, there is a small stuffed moose, a reference to the Canadian squadron with whom Mr. Mynarski flew. There is also a plaque and a poster stuck to the back of the pilot’s seat that honours him. A cross and poppy is tucked between control panels the flight engineer operates.
The Lancaster is cramped and only accessible by climbing a ladder and crawling through the rear door.
“Keep your head down,” Hillary Speed advises during a pre-flight meeting. She is from England and a volunteer. “She is 78 years old and still trying to hurt people.”
During the day, her mother worked in a factory that manufactured submarine parts, and at night would stand on the roof and keep an eye out for German planes. She also had an aunt who worked as a riveter on Lancasters and her father was a member of the Eighth Army.
Noise-protection earphones are handed out.
“If you choose not to wear them you will not be able to hear instructions from your wife for the next few weeks,” Ms. Speed says.
Niagara Falls churns beneath the plane as it heads toward Toronto.
The Lancaster can carry four passengers and it is very hard to get a seat. On its website, the museum urges people to log in on Nov. 14 to try to reserve a spot for 2024.
Passengers come from all walks and from all over the world. Many are family members of airmen who flew with Bomber Command. Some bring their loved one’s flight log books with them for the museum’s staff to see.
On this day Iwonna Pilon of Toronto came with her husband, Kenneth.
Her father was kidnapped off a street in Poland in 1939 and was interned at a camp in Germany until 1945. The camp was adjacent to a hydroelectric dam and on May 17, 1943, he witnessed it being blown up by a group of Lancasters that were specially trained to fly 60 feet above the water at night so as to evade radar.
“For me, this is an emotional experience,” Ms. Pilon says. She also had family members die at Auschwitz. “I have so many memories of what my father told me. I never thought I would actually be on one of the planes.
“I have shivers when I talk about it.”
The last flight for this season takes place on Remembrance Day. Veterans’ ceremonies will be staged at the museum at 11 a.m. During the service, at the end of the two minutes of silence, the Lancaster thunders overhead. The distinctive growl of its engines can be heard.
“In my remarks I often say there is only one 11th hour of the 11th day but every day at the museum is Remembrance Day,” Mr. Rohrer says. “Our mission is to educate, and we have to tell these stories. We have to say this is part of who we are, and why we are the country we are today.
“We inherited things from their tough times. We know freedom isn’t free.”
Video: Along for the ride on a Lancaster bomber
'It's a privilege to fly': David Rohrer of the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum speaks about what it means to fly in a restored Lancaster bomber, which The Globe got to see in action over Toronto and Niagara Falls.
Editor’s note: Editor's note: In a previous version of this article, gunner Andrew Mynarski's title was misstated in a photo caption. This version has been updated.
Marty Klinkenberg