The start of the beginning
Eventually towards the end of March we were taken to a school hall in Aberystwyth and told that we were to consider ourselves no longer as members of the RAF. We were in absolute consternation but we were told that we were being sent to an unnamed neutral country who could not accept us in uniform as we would be considered as "Belligerents". Furthermore no questions could be asked as they did not have the answers but all would be revealed later. You can imagine our state of mind as we were lined up and given twenty pounds each to purchase civilian clothing "suitable for a hot climate". We were told that we would have two weeks embarkation leave and advised to purchase our clothing as soon as possible as sailing date could be changed at any time. We were issued railway warrants and told to report to Wilmslow, near Manchester and would be notified of the date whilst on leave.
Of course speculation amongst ourselves with the majority guessing, correctly as it turned out, that we were bound for the U.S.A. so off we went with much to think and talk about.
I had made sure that I said a fond farewell to the delights of Blackpool and they were genuine as I had a wonderful boyhood and early adolescence in that terrific place so I kissed the Tower Ballroom and the Winter Gardens goodbye and went with much mind searching as to the future to Central Station and caught the train to Manchester.
At Wilmslow we were reunited with our fellow LAC's and hundreds more besides. Our congestures as to our ultimate destination were increased when we were issued with the most awful, heavy, grey flannel double breasted suits that you have ever seen . To cap these bizarre suits we were issued with old fashioned pith helmet topees, complete with ear pockets for securing radio ear pieces whilst flying. They had obviously lain in some storehouse since the twenties when they would have been issued to the intrepid pilots flying "Wapiti's" and aeroplanes of that ilk.
With these in our kitbags, which must have weighed 25kgs. we struggled on foot to the station where the train was waiting for our long journey up to Glasgow.
I have already described the train journeys during wartime and this was no better but one very cold morning in early May 1941 we pulled in to the dock station at Greenock. There was a huge ship waiting there but no name on it. On boarding we soon found out that it was the White Star liner "The Britannic" As an eight year old or thereabouts I had gone, with my parents, to the Pier Head in Liverpool to watch the "Britannic" depart on it's maiden voyage. I little knew that eight years later I, with four hundred other pilots u/t and a complement of well over 2000 Air Force, Army ,Navy and other personnel on board would be setting out on her to start the biggest adventure of my life.