Here is the first chapter of my Dad's memoirs -- mainly written in 2007 -- starting from his call up.
Just as background, he was brought up in SE London. Both his parents
were teachers which Dad went on to become.
I will put explanatory notes in where necessary.
Apologies in advance for typos, blame the OCR and me!
Here goes, and I hope you like reading what life was like as ground crew. Not as exciting as JF's dad, but history nonetheless!
Joining the Royal Air Force
I joined the Royal Air Force on 15th September 1942.
My conscription had been officially delayed until I had completed my teacher's course. I went off to Bedford Station, where we were taken by lorry to No.2 Recruitment Centre, RAF Cardington. That is the airfield where there is the enormous hangar in which the airships were built; including the R101.
We were kitted out, had various medical examinations and aptitude tests for suitability for the trades that we had chosen.
The technical trades required a high educational standard and scientific knowledge. I wanted to be a Flight Mechanic and I was accepted for this.
Whilst there I was surprised to meet Eric L*****, he had been a student with me at Shoreditch Training College and he too was selected to be a Flight Mechanic; we stayed together for almost six months.
We were taken by troop-train to Skegness for our Basic Training. It was late summer and the weather was good. Our basic training comprised marching, formating and doing arms drill. We lived in commandeered houses in various roads. There was no furniture, but in each room there were iron beds, each with a wooden cabinet beside. Eric and I had the downstairs front room.
In the afternoons we had to go on cross-country runs; that I quite liked, I had done cross-country running at school and always did well. We had to run around the fields at Wainfleet, behind Skegness. On the way I used to pick up potatoes and carry them in my vest. I used to roast them in the kitchen during the evening.
At 1100 our squad always seemed to be outside the local café, where we broke ranks and went in for tea and sardine sandwiches. Our main meals were taken at the Seacroft Hotel.
This was a six-week course and as part of the passing out tests I had to jump and pull myself up onto the roof of an air-raid shelter, I could never do this, but no one seemed to mind!
At the end of the course we had a 48 hour pass and I went home to Mottingham. We had to report to RAF Cosford, for the Flight Mechanic's course. This was a large permanent station, on the A41, near Wolverhampton. The camp was separated from the airfield by the railway line. There were wooden huts, a parade-ground and several hangars.
Lessons were held in a large hangar, teaching was done in small groups around parts and engines. The notebooks that we kept and our learning was of a high standard, everyone was most conscientious.
The hangar is still there and it is now used as an indoor sports stadium.
Sometimes we went to learn on actual aircraft. Several were very old. There was a Westland Wallace and a Cleveland Ohio as well as the more modern planes. We had to practise swinging the propellers, starting, running and checking the engines. It is now all part of the R.A.F. Museum.
The course at Cosford lasted sixteen weeks and beside the technical training we had many other activities. Every Saturday morning we had military training. We used to go on the rifle-range for target practice, the .303 Lee-Enfield rifle had a real kick into one's shoulder.
Before I went into the R.A.F. I had an air-rifle that I used for target practice in the garden. We also had a .22 rifle and ammunition that we kept in the roof at home, in case of invasion, so I could shoot quite well. We had bayonet practice and we also learned to throw live hand-grenades.
After 1300 on Saturday we were free until Monday morning, unless we had to go on church parade. The huts were each equipped with about twenty bunk-beds. I always liked to sleep in a lower bunk.
Sometimes we would walk to Albrighton, that was the nearest village. Through Eric, we got to know a family in Dudley Road, Wolverhampton. Every weekend they would entertain a few servicemen for an afternoon and evening, including an excellent supper. We were all musical and we would play the piano and sing.
We would catch the trolleybus back to Wolverhampton Station and go back to Cosford Station on the last train, It was always packed with tipsy airmen and WAAFs!! One had to be in camp by midnight.
There was a military band at Cosford. They would practise in the band hut on Thursday evenings. As I played the clarinet, I decided to see if I could join them, I went in to see the Warrant Officer bandmaster, He asked me to play the note, upper C. I did so and I was in!
In retrospect it was a wonderful experience. It is quite transporting to be playing in a large group and making a wonderful sound. The enthusiasm of the northern brass players was almost indecent. We played marches ready for church parade and practised selections from musicals; Showboat, White Horse Inn, etc.
I was embarrassed and proud to be given a bandsmen's badge, that I had to wear on the right arm of my jacket. I can understand why orchestral players accept a low salary, though they are very intelligent and gifted. It must be a wonderful life making music.
There were even more advantages to being in the band.
Because we had to play for church parade every other Sunday, we were given a thirty-six hour pass for alternate weekends. I used to go home every fortnight.
On one occasion we had to play at a Group Captain's funeral. We had to play the Beethoven and Chopin funeral marches all the way to Albrighton church. On the way back we played 'Colonel Bogey' and I felt this was inappropriate!
Actually it is quite difficult to play when on the march. You have to watch your dressing, keeping level with the players on either side. The music is on a small card that is held on a clip on the clarinet.
Whilst I was at Cosford, the government sponsored a Coastal Command week, The aim was to raise money from the public to buy aircraft; a Spitfire cost £5,000. Every evening, we had to play at the Odeon, Halesowen, for the half-hour entertainment between the main films. I remember we always started the programme with 'Anchors Aweigh'. It was very stirring.
At the end of our course, we were tested. I passed and became an A.C.1.
What is an AC1?? - Angels