Memoirs of a WW2 Typhoon pilot - part 2
Many thanks to all who are responding positively to this. Peter will be so pleased when I tell him of the interest shown. His story continues...
Eventually, in September 1941, I received my call-up papers and was told to report to Lords Cricket Ground in London on the 20th of October !
I remember debating with myself if I should wear my ATC uniform but decided against it, as I did not want to appear to 'line-shoot'. At the cricket ground there were several hundred of us, and it took most of the day to call our names and divide us into squads of, I think, thirty. Each squad was under the command of a corporal.
We were then billeted in what had been luxury flats in St.John's Wood. These had been stripped of all furniture but the carpets were left down, so we were sleeping on relatively soft floors! This was No.1 ACRC (Air Crew Reception Centre). Two weeks were spent here being inducted into the system. This involved being issued with uniforms and kit, having all the necessary innoculations and injections for overseas service, being taught basic drill, and having lectures about service life. When we had the multiple injections and innoculations, we were given 24 hours off, and most of the chaps spent the time feeling very sorry for themselves and experiencing all the symptoms of all the diseases for which we were being immunised!
One odd thing about this centre was that the mess, or dining hall, was the restaurant of the London Zoo which had been closed on the outbreak of war. Most of the animals had been sent away to Whipsnade Zoo in Buckinghamshire but a lot of the primates were still in residence and for many years afterwards, the hooting of the monkeys at meal times was the 'call sign' of anyone who had attended No.1 ACRC.
After just over two weeks here we were sent off to our ITW (Initial Training Wing). I was posted to No 5 ITW at Torquay in Devon, arriving on the 8th of November. Our 'barracks' was the 'Majestic' hotel which had been taken over by the RAF. Even in its heyday I doubt if the 'Majestic' lived up to its name, and when I knew it, it had obviously seen better days. For the next ten weeks we did intensive basic training in foot drill, Morse code signalling, physical training and general aircrew induction lectures. One of the more odd exercises which we did, ostensibly to prepare us for landing by parachute if we ever had to bail out, was to jump off the tailboard of a lorry which was being driven at about 15 mph. We did this facing both forwards and backwards and, on hitting the ground, did either a forward or backward roll. Later on, when we were actually flying and being given advice as to how to land from a parachute jump, we were told never to roll since this would tangle us up in the parachute rigging and make a quick getaway impossible.
It was at the ITW that I had my first, and only, experience of a route march. We marched out in the morning on a circular tour of the hinterland behind Torquay. After about fifteen miles we were re-entering Torquay and looking forward to relaxing only to find that we went straight through and did a further five or six miles before finishing. We were accompanied by transport which picked up the remarkably few casualties, and were encouraged to sing marching songs to help us along. It sounds silly now but these songs did help us to keep going. The few casualties were nearly all as a result of blisters caused by ill-fitting boots. Those of us who were not affected were feeling very superior to the poor blokes who had to be driven back. Also whilst we were here we had all the booster and back-up injections for our immunisation. This time however, instead of being given time off, we were taken on a three or four mile run up and down the hills of Devon. Consequently none of us felt the slightest reaction from the injections since the drugs were circulated and absorbed by the violent exercise.
The whole of Torquay and Paignton were taken over as ITW's and the towns were geared to service life. There were several service mens clubs run by different organisations including not only the NAAFI but the ubiquitous Salvation Army (The Sally Ann), the Red Cross, the Womens Voluntary Services, the YMCA, and even one run by an enterprising evangelistic group. This latter was known as 'Holy Joe's' and you had to be prepared to be prayed over and to sing hymns in order to get an evening snack. A lot of us went there because they had a very good cook who managed to produce tasty meals. I don't know if this club made many converts but they certainly had good publicity from practically every RAF type who went through Torquay or Paignton. We were of course lucky that our particular courses extended over the Christmas period and we had special treatment at the clubs during the Christmas break.
At the end of the training period, providing that you had passed, you were promoted to LAC (Leading Aircraftman) and issued with a white 'flash' to be worn in the forage cap to denote an aircrew trainee. I can recall a kindly lady at the WVS canteen sewing the 'propellor' badges on the sleeves of my uniform for me.
From ITW, my next posting was, at last, to a Flying Training School. This was number 18 EFTS at Booker in Buckinghamshire.
This however was not to teach me to fly but merely to assess the possibility that I could be taught and thus avoid wasting valuable time if I proved unsuitable. It would seem that this scheme was very successful as it reduced drastically the number of pupil pilots who 'washed out' very much later in their training.
More soon...
Last edited by tow1709; 2nd May 2009 at 16:27.