The memoirs of Sqn Ldr Rupert Parkhouse, recorded in 1995 – Part 3. The first post in this series is #9775 on page 489 of this thread.
I HAVE always regretted that I only did one term at Cranwell, because at the end of July we had a passing-out parade before Viscount Gort; with the Enfield rifles and long bayonets and the Cranwell band it was a very fine sight.
When war broke out at the beginning of September we were called back, the whole of our academic syllabus was consigned to the waste paper basket and we were trained entirely as pilots. I heard Chamberlain's declaration of war. I remember my father was very upset over the treatment of Czechoslovakia.
It was obvious that this had been coming for a very long time. We were young, we were professional pilots; one realised that a life of adventure lay ahead and I think we were somewhat elated.
I remember one of the items we were equipped with was a rather fine slide rule and I remember some of the chaps tearing their slide rules to pieces and throwing them in the bin. Perhaps it was a foretaste of what was to come. I thought it was a great waste, having come from a frugal background where every penny was counted, and I still have mine.
Our training started immediately. I was hoping to go onto twin-engined aircraft but I was put onto Hawker Hart trainers. [
Dual control version of the Hart light bomber with 525hp RR Kestrel V12, used for advanced training --
Ed.] We used to have crew rooms alongside the hangars but now we and the aircraft were sent to dispersal huts around the airfield.
I spent September 3 dressed in a gas cape because we were told to expect imminent gas attack, which shows the feeling at the time, and I had to taxi my Hart to the dispersal where it was picketed down. That evening we spent an uncomfortable two hours in the shelters, wondering if this was going to be a pattern in the wartime years.
