Danny says "Ave atque Vale".
The summer turned to autumn and our time at Valley was coming to an end. There would be no "At Home" day there that year. To show the youngsters of the AFS how it should be done, "Red" Dunningham led a vic of three Spitfires (I was No. 2) in a formation landing. On the 30th August I flew my last run for the Army, and climbed out of TB858. I would never sit in a Spitfire cockpit again in my life. EDIT: Not so- see my Page 313 #6244 !
There was no parting celebration - we just dispersed to the four winds. I'm not sure exactly when I left. The Boss signed my F414(A) on the 14th September. Good old Alex ! I was "High Average" ! (which is meaningless) - he couldn't bring himself to put "Above Average" (which I certainly was not ), but wanted to say something nice. Come to think about it, all the "term-end" 414s I've had had something "funny" about them. Driffield had said that I was "Average - as a u/t Jet Pilot" and my swan song in November '54 ended in "Proficient as a Meteor Pilot" (for I ended my post-war flying career as I'd begun four years before).
My faithful tin box slid nicely into the passenger side of the "Bond", the other bags packed round it. I crossed Telford's elegant Menai suspension bridge for one last time. My joining date at Thornaby must have been around mid-October, for I had a couple of weeks at home in Heswall. Then I set out, Liverpool to Teeside is about 130 miles. I followed the A59 (Preston - Skipton - Harrogate -- the "Blubberhouses" route). There are (or were) some serious gradients on the Lancashire side: the "Bond" overheated and seized at one point, but after a quarter of an hour's rest to cool off it restarted without any damage, and we reached the watershed with no further trouble.
Then it was downhill all the way, on the long straight bits the Bond screamed away happily with the needle against the stops at 40 mph. Four miles short of Harrogate, turn left for Ripon and Thirsk and then enter Thornaby from the south.
There was no trouble finding the place. I passed a well-worn Victorian or Edwardian mansion, then a half-dozen obvious AMQs along the road, then the notice board and the pole barrier across the camp entrance. Before the Duty Corporal got out of the Guardroom and got his cap on, I was in (one of the more useful features of the Bond was that it was so low that you could "limbo dance" under most pole barriers).
I established my bona fides, he directed me back under the pole and down the road to the mansion. As I left the main gate, I saw that directly across the road was the "Oddfellows Arms" (known to all as the "Oddbods"). "The NAAFI will have to look to its laurels", I thought. I parked outside what was called "Thornaby Hall" (which was stretching it a bit) and went in.
All was quiet - it was a bit like the Marie Céleste. There was a small table in the hall, with the In/Out and Visitor's books. I booked-in and left my two Visiting Cards (do we still do this ?). Somewhere I still have the little copper engraving plate for my embossed Cards (only a bounder would use printed ones !)
Hearing some sound from the door on the left, I found myself in a little bar. "Quiet tonight", I said to the steward as he drew me a half-can from the wood (always warm and flat in those days). "The Auxiliaries have all gone home, sir", he said, "and there's only the SDO around at the moment". To prove the point, the chap himself strolled in and we exchanged introductions. Jack Derbyshire was, it seemed, the Station Adjutant (ex-war Flight Engineer).
And what will he have to tell me ?
Till next time,
Danny42C.
J'y suis, j'y reste.
Last edited by Danny42C; 19th Dec 2014 at 22:31.
Reason: Add Text.