Let's start at the v.beginning - a v.good place to start!
Then came the War. First was the Phoney War, and we sang "We'll hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line (fat chance!). Then came the Blitzkrieg and Dunkirk. The song died on our lips. The long unreal summer of 1940 began with the formation of the Local Defence Volunteers, later the Home Guard, and ended with the miracle of the Battle of Britain, and Churchill's immortal tribute to the "Few".
For twenty years boys had read W.E. John's "Biggles" books, and dreamed of becoming their hero. These decades were the years of record-breaking long distance flights and five bob (five minute!) "hops" at Air Circuses. Very few
had ever flown, and most would never fly in their entire lives (You'll never get ME up in one of those things!).
Just to have a pilot's licence made you a hero in popular esteem (much as are astronauts today). My father often quoted a quip from the first War: "Join the Army and see the World - Join the Air Force and see the Next!". But flying instruction, at £3 an hour (£3 was a good weekly wage for a man)was far out of our reach. Learning to fly had been an impossible dream - until now.
So, with Churchill's words ringing in their ears, just about every red-blooded young man in Britain (and the Empire), with School Certificate and in the age group (17 and a half to 23) flocked to volunteer as RAF aircrew. I was one of them. All wanted to be pilots, of course. There would be many hurdles ahead: it was reckoned that only 2% of all original applicants got to wear the coveted double wing. People were almost down on their knees to get into the RAF, it could afford to be fussy. Most of the rejections were in the first phase.
Just before Christmas 1940, I was called to Padgate (near Manchester) to appear before the Selection Board. They must have been having a lean day, for they accepted me. I scraped through the Medical Board, much to my mother's surprise, for I had a "Weak Chest". This nondescript ailment was then common; the smoke and dust of the cities having packed our lungs with soot. I took the Oath, and enlisted as an Aircraftman, Second Class (AC2 or "erk") - the lowest form of life in the RAF - "u/t" (under training) as a Pilot or Observer (at their option). To seal the bargain, they gave me the "King's Shilling" (a day's pay), (actually it was a "florin" - two bob - inflation had already set in!)
I was in, a full member of the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve.
Get fell in !
Last edited by Danny42C; 25th Feb 2012 at 19:36.