Danny Finds a Home.
We had a glorious two weeks in the Lakes; a huge "high" was anchored over Cumberland; the sun shone every single day. The locals marvelled: such a thing had never been known in living memory (the first thing every visitor there has to buy is a plastic mac); a story goes that a dripping stranger once asked of a native: "Does it always rain here ?"....."Naw", came the reply, "sometimes it snaws".
I think we had been notified of our postings on leaving the School. I drew the (then) Empire Flying College at RAF Manby, to report there in the last week of the month. I packed my bride, together with all my worldly goods with which I'd just endowed her (not a lot) into the old car (would that I could do the same today !) and set out.
It was evening when we reached Louth, we got the AA Book out, and picked the cheapest of the two-stars at the bottom of the list (it was a Temperance Hotel, but clean and cosy). In the morning I marched into the Adjutant's office at Manby. There I learned that I would not be employed there, but at their flying satellite of Strubby, some 12 miles further on. One SATCO (S/Ldr Norcross, ex-war Nav) ran both places.
I was officially welcomed by the Commandant (Air Cdr."Gus" Walker - who, I think, was the only one-armed pilot in the RAF at the time), who insisted on greeting personally every one of his new officers immediately on arrival (this was a measure of the man). Then I completed the greater part of my arrival procedure at Manby, only going out to Strubby the following day, (IIRC).
There could hardly have been a greater contrast between the two places. Manby was a well-kept, properly built "expansion" Station from the Thirties, whereas Strubby was in exactly the same condition as it had been when carved out of farmland in the early war years. If you'd seen a file of Wellingtons or Halifaxes coming round the peri-track, fully loaded en route for the Ruhr, with tractors, bomb trollies, bowsers and crew buses running around, the scene would have seemed perfectly normal. Everything was "in period" for '42-45, it was as if the last ten years had never been.
The buildings were all Nissen, Seco and Laing huts. ATC was the usual cube, with a sort of draughty and leaky shack stuck on the roof (and probably an outside staircase, I would think it would be a hazardous business, taking the tea up on a wet and windy day). I know that they had airmens' barrack huts there (I was i/c of one), so there must have been an airmens' Mess. I remember there was a small officers' bar, so there must have been a Mess of sorts, though I think the single officers all lived at Manby in my time
(could be wrong).
Now the requirement was to get into Service (if possible) accommodation as soon as we could, for finances would only run to the Temperance Hotel for a limited time. Most people at Strubby lived out in Mablethorpe-by-the-Sea (or the surrounding villages, but it was full summer and the town was packed with visitors. We looked at some desperate places (one, as Mrs D. reminds me, not unlike that illustrated in BEagle's Post #3481, p.175, (and also stuck in the middle of a pond) at Theddlethorpe).
But before we were reduced to such straits, a hiring became vacant at 144, High Street in Mablethorpe. It would hardly have passed muster with me at Weston, but beggars can't be choosers. We hadn't been in the place for ten minutes before another train load came in at the nearby station, and they were knocking on the door to ask if we did Bed & Breakfasts !
That's about enough for the moment.
G'day, mates
Danny
"If yer can find a better 'ole, go to it !" (Old Bill)