For schoolboys like Stan, life in late 1930s Canberra was much simpler than today, and entertainment didn't extend far beyond swimming at Manuka Pool and birdnesting in the reeds of the Molonglo River behind the Powerhouse at Kingston.

According to Stan, "even during the first years of the Second World War, life had been quiet with 'the Phony War', the Battle of Britain, Dunkirk, all names and places far away and having no effect on schoolboys except the shortage of chewing gum".

However, that all changed in 1942 when foreign allied air forces arrived in town.

"For years the fastest car had been the local police sergeant Weiss' Austin tourer, but this was soon replaced by the six-wheel-drive Studebaker trucks of the American 8th Fighter Squadron who were stationed in Canberra [February 16 to April 17, 1942] and would race around town at enormous speeds," recalls Stan.

Stan admits to sneaking up to one of the trucks and taking a peek at the dashboard. "It had a speedometer graduated to 160 miles per hour, so fast," he gasps.

In the air, things changed even more. "The usual de Haviland Dragon mail plane was nothing compared to the show the American pilots performed over Canberra in their Kittyhawk fighters," recalls Stan.

With the increasing threat of Japanese air attack, instead of chasing frogs and doing backflips off the diving board at Manuka Pool, Stan's focus turned his focus to digging and maintaining the rudimentary air raid shelter in his family home in Dawes Street, Kingston.

"The shelter was located behind the apple shed before you got to the chook yard and far enough away from the clothes line so mum did not fall in while pegging out the clothes," he muses.

"There was no covering over the top of it, and I suppose we could have used it, but it might have been better to get under the kitchen table," he laughs.

On one day in April 1942 while Stan was digging out the bottom of the shelter he was abruptly interrupted by a deafening sound from the sky, prompting him to jump out and "see what all the hullabaloo was about".

"A matte grey cigar-shaped object was roaring down Howitt Street just skimming the pin oak trees ... it frightened the bloody life out of me," recalls Stan.

"Every detail of the B25 bomber could be seen - the pilot's face, every rivet, the radio aerials and the twin rudders," recalls Stan. "It was huge, about the size of two houses and emblazoned on the side amidships was three horizontal stripes - red, white and blue of the Netherlands."

The impromptu spectacle was Stan's first knowledge that the No. 18 NEI (Netherlands East Indies) RAAF Squadron, a joint Dutch and Australian bomber squadron, had arrived in town.

"Apparently one of the Dutch pilot's friends was being billeted in Howitt Street, so he decided to put the wind up him with an unexpected fly over," laughs Stan.

Stan wasn't the only Canberra schoolboy to be dazzled by the aerobatic antics of the daredevil Dutch pilots. One of Stan's mates, George Douglas, "was at St Christopher's School in Manuka minding his own business" when he heard a low flying B25 approaching Manuka shops from the direction of Telopea Park. "When it reached the shops, it executed a victory roll and finished it going down Captain Cook Crescent," reports Stan.

Another of Stan's friends, Harold (Gus) Angus, witnessed a B25 fly between two Lombardy poplar trees at the CSIRO's Black Mountain laboratories, "not horizontally, but vertically with one wing down, less than 10 metres off the ground". Heck.

But for Stan, an impressionable nine-year-old, the most memorable effort was "one of these juggernauts spotted early one morning flying between the flags above the front door of the Hotel Canberra (Hyatt) where the commandant of the squadron and his son were staying".

"That would have woken them up," he quips.

Meanwhile, across the border the good folk of Queanbeyan, where many of the Dutch were housed in hotels, had their own regular air shows. "On return flights from Sydney for supplies the B25s would fly low over Monaro Street, the airmen throwing the papers out the window onto the upstairs veranda of Walsh's Hotel," explains Stan.

Despite their extensive training schedule, and coastal patrol (they sank a Japanese submarine off Moruya on June 5, 1942) the Dutch airmen also found time for some R&R, including ski trips into the Brindabellas.

"During the winter of 1942, the Canberra Alpine Club granted use of their chalet at Mt Franklin to the squadron members," reports Stan, adding, "but the weather didn't always oblige".

On at least one occasion the Dutch airmen's 4WD truck was turned back by deep snow, but when eventually reaching the chalet, they not only enjoyed some skiing in the Brindies but also repaired the chalet's phone line where heavy snow had damaged it.

According to Stan, "On the cessation of hostilities on VP Day 1945, Hans DeVries and L.J. VanNifterick, the only Dutch airmen still sober at the Hotel Queanbeyan, were asked to present a fly past at victory ceremonies in Canberra, Melbourne and Sydney."

The NEI/RAAF Forces Association Newsletter (No.42 Vol 3 July 1993) states, "On leaving Sydney for Canberra they decided to 'do' the Sydney Harbour Bridge and fly under it".

An impressive effort indeed, but surely not as audacious as flying through the flagpoles of the Hyatt.

Not everyone is hoarding the standard Canberra red bricks (Bricks show up in unusual places, May 9). "The brickworks made a variety of shaped bricks including this one that I think was used for windowsills," reports David Wardle of Mawson. "There are many wider stories about the brickworks in the area then known as Westridge and now Yarralumla," reports David, adding, "apparently washing day was particularly difficult for the local families with the soot from the chimneys descending on the fresh white sheets on the suburb's clothes lines". Sounds like last summer in Canberra.

"I loved last week's piece on Marvellous Maggies (June 13)", reports Robert Gardiner who "has a bunch of maggie mates in Isabella Plains".

"With two bird baths they can easily practise social distancing," reports Robert, adding "all sorts of birds attend, but the black-and-white coppers enforce the taking of turns".

Robert says he often sees a bunch of birds around the rim, but only one in the bath at a time. His favourite was the time the maggies "saw off" the neighbours' cat. "It likes to lurk with intent, but two maggies swooped it back across the road where it belonged," he recalls, adding "to quote C.J. Dennis' Sentimental Bloke "ow I ongcored! Kick 'im, I sez, put in the boot!"

Still lots of reports of Black Cockatoos raiding trees in our suburbs. "Goodness knows how they know where to look," exclaims Gene Schembri of Cook, who earlier this week, witnessed one completely demolishing the branch of a neighbour's wattle tree in search of a grub, which it eventually found.

Clue: Half way between two big cities

Degree of difficulty: Medium

Last week: Congratulations to Sam Standen of Kambah who was first to correctly identify the location of last week's photo as the Reid Tennis Club House. In August this year, the club turns 92, making it one of the oldest sporting clubs in Canberra. Older members recall dances being held in the club house.

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and suburb to timtheyowieman@bigpond.com. The first email sent after 10am, Saturday June 20, 2020 wins bragging rights. Tickets to Dendy Cinemas will once again be given as a prize when the cinemas reopen.

Many readers remember driving to the top of Mt Kosciuszko in the 1950s and 60s (Long way to the top? Not before 1982, June 6) including Bill Crowle who sent is this photo of Mary, his wife, clambering on the summit trig point in 1968.

Seven years later Bill returned on a bicycle to find a much more modest concrete summit trig. Mmm... I wonder if the trigs were changed as a result of too many adventurous climbers toppling off the metal tripod?