Kelly Snow, 95, knew every secret regarding the Royal Air Force’s Dam Busters raid designed to destroy Germany’s dams. 

“A lot of people don’t know about it. It was the important raid of the war, the most secret raid,” she chuckled. 

“I was a person who received information first before any of the squadrons did; where they were going to bomb, the time it would take, the time over target, the number of crews.” 

It was her job as a Royal Air Force Sergeant to contact Prime Minister Winston Churchill in 1943 to let him know the operation was going to go ahead and did so by contacting the White House in America – where he was at the time.

“On the night of the dam busters it was the bouncing bomb (with) the dams of Germany, Commander (Guy) Gibson was in charge of it.

“I saw Bomber Wallis sitting there, Bomber Harris sitting there, and I knew something was on. 

“As soon as I heard the word ‘Nigger’ which was the password – the name of Commander Gibson’s dog that was killed – I had to get through to Churchill in the White House, Washington, in America, and tell him.” 

The Norfolk-born woman was 24 years old when war was declared in 1939.

She signed up for the Royal Air Force, but cannot remember why. 

 “I don’t know, I just wanted to get away, go and do something.” 

But she did not let her father know before she applied – and he was displeased.

 “But he was proud as punch when I got the third stripe and he took me to the tailors and he had a uniform made I could only wear on leave, because it was officers material.” 

Regardless of her reasons, the decision shaped Mrs Snow’s life.

During the war she met her Australian husband, Quentin, who was a mid-upper gunner who completed 60 raids over Germany during two tours and received a Distinguished Flying Cross for his services. 

They married and were moved to separate bases, and the separation was worrisome for Mrs Snow – who was pregnant with her firstborn Christine and aware of the dangers her husband faced.  

“When I was on the switchboard the girls would ask to speak to so-and-so, I was in the sergeant’s mess and this sergeant had ‘gone for a burton’ – a burton means he has been shot down and killed. “And they’d be crying their eyes outs you know. 

“I thought ‘I’m one of these people now’ just waiting to see if he’s (Quentin) not come back, and I used to dread going to the call box to the top of the hill because there was no phones in those days.”

But Mr Snow survived the war and the family moved to Australia, eventually calling Mount Isa their home. In the 13 years they lived here Mr Snow was a carpenter – once working on a swimming pool in Mary Kathleen – and Mrs Snow worked at Play Time. 

They had four children: Christine, Terry, Robyn and Robert. Mr Snow recently wrote a book about his experiences for another gunner’s daughters who knew nothing about the raids he went on. 

“We had a lot in common, we could talk about old times,” Mrs Snow said. 

“He just liked to talk about everything and what happened.

“I knew what he was talking about, that’s the whole thing...he did that many trips on Berlin you have no idea,” Mrs Snow said.  

“He was the only one left in his crew so they’re all gone now – the last one of the crew. 

“They’ve all passed on now.” Mr Snow died in March and his services were acknowledged in an Anzac Day service at Mooloolaba where he lived.