The celebrations for the 75th anniversary of VE Day on Friday will be extra special for one Mansfield businessman.

Mike Collins has just found an article written by his late father, Leading Aircraftman Alan Collins, from Sutton, about how he marked VE Day while stationed in Nassau, Bahamas – scoring a hat-trick for England and flying at very low-levels over the island in celebration.

The article was featured in the Sun newspaper’s VE Day pull-out at the time.

Mike, from Collins Wealth Management, Mansfield, said his father was born in Sutton and in 1945 his family home remained Langford Street, Sutton, with his mum and dad, Herbert and Charlotte Collins.

This is Leading Aircraftman Alan Collins’ story

RAF Windsor Field was 10 miles away from the bright lights of Nassau on the island of New Providence. A wartime satellite drome, created to accommodate big four-engine bombers.

All week staff had waited for news of VE Day and now it had come. A simple tannoy message which sent the camp into ecstacy, with voices cheering in every direction.

All work was abandoned, airmen gathered in laughing groups, shaking hands, taking photographs, dressing up, competing with gymnastic displays, and always bursting into song.

I wandered from group to group, and finally found myself on the tarmac apron, surrounded by huge planes and a deathly stillness. Even as I stood, a mixed party of groundcrew and aircrew ambled across to a big Liberator bomber, and climbed aboard.

Filled with curiosity, I followed and was invited to join them in one last unofficial flight together before all the kites were grounded.

Even on the plane airmen were still singing as we thundered into the sky and the aerodrome slipped away underneath us. Now came the manoeuvre that will live in my memory forever.

Once we had reached safe flying speed the pilot dipped the nose of the plane until we roaring along the coastline at palm tree level, almost touching the multi-coloured sea.

We circled the whole island, startling the fishermen in their small boats and attracting maximum attention from the islanders as the great bird swooped by.

Now we were flying over the strictly forbidden town of Nassau, frightening the people walking below, rocking the hundreds of boats in the harbour and missing the lighthouse on Hog Island by a whisker.

What had been fun and exciting when we first started now turned into a nightmare as we roared across the island, missing trees and large obstacles by inches.

The pilot, a lively, laughing young man, knowing that he was probably on his last flight ever, took great delight in giving us a white knuckle ride and we all heaved a sigh of relief when he rolled to a standstill back at Windsor Field.

Recaps raced up in a Jeep and as the pilot faced authority the groundcrew melted away. Not anxious to be involved in any further escapades, I made for the quiet of the library, noticing as I entered that the camp fire engine went rolling by, bells clanging and laden with cheering airmen.

“Can you play football?” The education officer was in the library and confronted me. “Yes sir, after a fashion.”

“You’ll do. The camp team is playing a match in Nassau as part of the VE celebrations, RAF v Bahamas Air Services. Be outside at 2.

“Everyone is confined to camp except the football team.”

I boarded the bus on time and as there were several professional players in our team I took a lot of backchat but I was only there to make the numbers up.

The football pitch was on the local park, just off Bay Street, and by the time we arrived thousands of the native population had gathered on the touchline. A notice on a big cardboard box had now elevated the match to full international status… Bahamas v England.

It was an interesting experience with our team playing in proper kit and the locals in shorts and bare feet. Their exposed toe nails were just like miniature razors. Aided by the professionals I had managed to score two goals out of our five as we were nearing the end and, with much comical help from the lads, I scrambled a third just as the final whistle blew.

Satisfied that I had justified my place in the team, my joy was complete when I walked out of the park gate. More details had been chalked on the box… England 6 Bahamas 0, Collins scores a hat-trick for England.

Later that night after a few celebratory drinks I stood alone on the steps of my hut. Drunken revellers were still belting out the sentimental songs of the day around the camp and I had a few private thoughts before I turned in.

I had lost several pals through the war, but my own luck had held good. I was sent to the States, Canada and the Bahamas when I might just as easily have been sent to Germany or Burma.

Now the worst was over and I would soon be going home without a scratch. But on a lighter note I would always remember VE, the day that I circled the island at terror level and the day I scored a hat-trick for England.