Pilot training in UK, WW2
The Brooklands Flying Club was also the home of The Metropolitan Police and the London Transport Flying Club, and several of their members were retained as Instructors.
The Chief instructor at the airfield was made a Squadron Leader then, later, a Wing Commander. Wing Commander Arthur stayed on flying at Fairoaks well after the age of 80.
Ground instruction was given by retired officers as civilians. There was virtually no drill or parades and we lived in one two local manor houses. I was billeted in Stanners Hill Manor and we dined in the airfield clubhouse. The dining rom was L shaped with the pupils in the larger end, and the instructors, Officers and NCOs, dining together in the shorter end. The food was good and served by civilian mess waiters.
Armament instruction was in the hands of a retired Chief Petty Officer “Billy” Bishop. With a large cheerful face and a mass of white hair, he looked a like Bishop until he opened his mouth when out came the filthiest stories we young innocents had ever heard. He was supposed to teach us the assembly of the Lewis Gun, but he was full of reminiscences of World War One when he flew as an Observer. He told us of using a Service revolver or a Lee Enfield rifle from the rear cock-pit in air fighting, and dropping bombs by hand over the side onto Constantinople.
One pupil already attached to our flight was Sgt. Charles P....... who spent his days in a deck chair, smoking exotic cigarettes in a long holder. Cadets were not allowed mechanical transport, but Charles had two cars and lived outside in a rented house.
The Flight Commander, F/Lt Cubitt, had difficulty starting his Austin 7 one day. Charles removed his cigarette holder and said, “Take my Buick, Sir.” “Thanks P.........” One day I asked him what his status was, and Charles said he was amassing 150 hours on Tiger Moths and would then go directly to an instructors’ school. I think he may have had a private pilot’s licence and have a been a Member of the Civil Air Guard. A year later I picked up a copy of “The Tatler” and saw a picture of Sgt. Charles P....... dining at The Lansdowne with the Honourable Lady ......
I doubt If I would have got past the doorman in my Sergeant’s stripes!