Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
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Sod v Murphy.
idle bystander (your #8309),
My sentiments exactly !
Nevertheless I accept your correction, and am suitably chastened.
Cheers, Danny.
...Through the Looking-Glass - Wikiquote
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Through_the_Looking-Glass
The Red Queen shook her head, "You may call it nonsense if you like," she said, .... Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean...'
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Through_the_Looking-Glass
The Red Queen shook her head, "You may call it nonsense if you like," she said, .... Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean...'
Nevertheless I accept your correction, and am suitably chastened.
Cheers, Danny.
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Heavily laden with time-expired men.....
ancient aviator62 (your #8319),
It certainly takes me back. When you go up that gangway you are allowed to take only what you can personally carry on one trip - there's no going back ! My comfortable life as a Sahib had come to a full stop. When you've had that experience, you appreciate the full force of:
"....As up to the gangway we crawl...."
Of course I would like to see the other side of the air mail letter (so long as there's nothing personal on it). But where is the embossed 4-anna stamp on it ? - I assume it's coming from India. Do we know who the artist is ? It's a bit in the style of "Fougasse".
Hard luck on the Sgt-Pilot, but that's how the mop flops.
Ta, Danny.
It certainly takes me back. When you go up that gangway you are allowed to take only what you can personally carry on one trip - there's no going back ! My comfortable life as a Sahib had come to a full stop. When you've had that experience, you appreciate the full force of:
"....As up to the gangway we crawl...."
Of course I would like to see the other side of the air mail letter (so long as there's nothing personal on it). But where is the embossed 4-anna stamp on it ? - I assume it's coming from India. Do we know who the artist is ? It's a bit in the style of "Fougasse".
Hard luck on the Sgt-Pilot, but that's how the mop flops.
Ta, Danny.
Danny,
as you can see no stamp needed. Obviously no expense spared for the 'Forgotten Army' at Xmas.
Danny,
the address at the top right which my scanner has truncated reads :
PID No 1
RAF India Command.
Does anyone know what PID stands for ?
the address at the top right which my scanner has truncated reads :
PID No 1
RAF India Command.
Does anyone know what PID stands for ?
Danny
Thanks for the suggestions - done!
Warmtoast (your #8311),
The charming pics invite Captions. How about:
1. All together now, "Aaaaaaah"
2. "Ooooooh"
3. "The things I have to do for the money they pay me !"
Danny.
The charming pics invite Captions. How about:
1. All together now, "Aaaaaaah"
2. "Ooooooh"
3. "The things I have to do for the money they pay me !"
Danny.
Thanks for the suggestions - done!
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Bless
ancientaviator62,
Thank you for the reverse side of your "Christmas Card". Now this is really interesting. I don't recall any "P I D", at a guess would say 'Postal (India) Depot'- but it might've meant something quite different.
The 'Air Letters' I remember were pre-paid: UK-India at 4d and India-UK at 4-anna (the exact equivalent) You bought them from the RAF Postal Service, they in turn would buy them from the nearest Post Office.
It was spared for us ! Never heard of 'em ! (but then I was "up the Jungle" in Assam - perhaps in Delhi, Calcutta or Bombay - all right for some !)
Note the Censor's stamp. I have mentioned this distasteful task in one of my last Posts from India, but cannot find it now (and "Search this Thread" as much use as chocolate teapot).
Danny.
Thank you for the reverse side of your "Christmas Card". Now this is really interesting. I don't recall any "P I D", at a guess would say 'Postal (India) Depot'- but it might've meant something quite different.
The 'Air Letters' I remember were pre-paid: UK-India at 4d and India-UK at 4-anna (the exact equivalent) You bought them from the RAF Postal Service, they in turn would buy them from the nearest Post Office.
...as you can see no stamp needed. Obviously no expense spared for the 'Forgotten Army' at Xmas...
Note the Censor's stamp. I have mentioned this distasteful task in one of my last Posts from India, but cannot find it now (and "Search this Thread" as much use as chocolate teapot).
Danny.
Note the Censor's stamp. I have mentioned this distasteful task in one of my last Posts from India, but cannot find it now (and "Search this Thread" as much use as chocolate teapot).
You rang, Sir? Try post no 3237 on Page 162 by my choice of numbering.
Jack
You rang, Sir? Try post no 3237 on Page 162 by my choice of numbering.
Jack
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Obiter Dicta.
Jack,
Thank you ! Thank God we've got the Navy ! ancient aviator, here is the excerpt:
Danny.
Thank you ! Thank God we've got the Navy ! ancient aviator, here is the excerpt:
...On the way, I had plenty of time to think back over the past three years. I have never mentioned another more distasteful wartime duty that all officers had to perform on units abroad. It's not often mentioned in people's memoirs - I suppose they don't like to be reminded about it. This was the censoring of your men's letters home. Who censored my letters - quis custodiet ? No idea (of course this all stopped after VJ Day).
Our chaps knew it had to be done (for reasons of security) and kept their letters bland, but even so we thought it a nasty thing to have to do. Particularly sad were the replies from lads who had obviously had a "Dear John", or who'd had family deaths, perhaps in the V1 & V2 blitzes.
The only things I ever had to "blue-pencil" were bits of technical detail of our equipment and what we were doing. And of course there was an unspoken "seal of confession" laid upon us. This was universally upheld, I never heard a whisper about any airman's letter from another officer in my entire time - and certainly never breathed a word about mine. And, come to think of it, that may account for the "amnesia" about the whole business now. We've simply airbrushed it right out of memory...
Our chaps knew it had to be done (for reasons of security) and kept their letters bland, but even so we thought it a nasty thing to have to do. Particularly sad were the replies from lads who had obviously had a "Dear John", or who'd had family deaths, perhaps in the V1 & V2 blitzes.
The only things I ever had to "blue-pencil" were bits of technical detail of our equipment and what we were doing. And of course there was an unspoken "seal of confession" laid upon us. This was universally upheld, I never heard a whisper about any airman's letter from another officer in my entire time - and certainly never breathed a word about mine. And, come to think of it, that may account for the "amnesia" about the whole business now. We've simply airbrushed it right out of memory...
Re "as much use as a chocolate teapot".
Somebody has now invented one that actually works - for a finite period of time until it melts - and of course you could always scoff one anyway.
Personally I favour "as much use as an inflatable dartboard".
I take no credit but really wish I'd thought of it
Somebody has now invented one that actually works - for a finite period of time until it melts - and of course you could always scoff one anyway.
Personally I favour "as much use as an inflatable dartboard".
I take no credit but really wish I'd thought of it
Danny,
the letter was marked 'Xmas 1944'. Where were you spending Xmas that year ?
the letter was marked 'Xmas 1944'. Where were you spending Xmas that year ?
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Christmas cards from the jungle
The Christmas card from the war zone must have been particularly emotional to receive. My father Harold Pettinger ( mentioned earlier in the thread) was away from the UK for 4 and half years, and later in the war was involved in supplying the Chindits in the Burmese jungle by air . When clearing his effects after his death in 2014 we came across the Christmas card he sent to his parents from the Burmese jungle ( goodness knows how). It was moving for us to read it, so havn't ANY idea how his parents must have felt about it. Could post it here if I knew how to do it!
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Christmas 1944.
ancientaviator62,
Kicking my heels in RAF Yelahanka (Bangalore). I'd got the years mixed up, it was '43 that I was in Assam. No matter, I can't remember Christmas being celebrated at all much; it was just another working day as far as most people were concerned.
I was out of a job in Yelahanka, having been posted down there the whole length of India from 8 (IAF) Sqn at Samungli on the Afghan border - to convert Mosquito pilots onto the Vengeance !
This daft idea had been thought up after the Mossies started falling apart (sometimes in the air !) and it looked as if the (recently discarded) Vengeance would have to be brought back into service as a stopgap. Luckily, DH had found a better brand of Seccotine in the nick of time and the Mosquito was reprieved.
Still never saw any sort of FreePost.
Danny.
Kicking my heels in RAF Yelahanka (Bangalore). I'd got the years mixed up, it was '43 that I was in Assam. No matter, I can't remember Christmas being celebrated at all much; it was just another working day as far as most people were concerned.
I was out of a job in Yelahanka, having been posted down there the whole length of India from 8 (IAF) Sqn at Samungli on the Afghan border - to convert Mosquito pilots onto the Vengeance !
This daft idea had been thought up after the Mossies started falling apart (sometimes in the air !) and it looked as if the (recently discarded) Vengeance would have to be brought back into service as a stopgap. Luckily, DH had found a better brand of Seccotine in the nick of time and the Mosquito was reprieved.
Still never saw any sort of FreePost.
Danny.
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Old Comrades - Libya
Daily living conditions were hazardous too, in the hot, dusty North African desert. We became very used to living in our tented accommodation, but the regular dust storms, that lasted for three days at a time, were extremely trying.
The Messes, in which we gathered for our meals and for relaxation when off duty, were large marquees. Dust and sand were everywhere. A mug of tea invariably held a sediment of sand, up to a quarter of an inch deep (about 6mm). Sand was in the bread, along with the inevitable flour weevils, up to 10 or 12 in every slice, and each creating its own distinctive purple stain around it.
Our cooks made our meals as varied as they were able, with the limited range and quantity of rations received, but we seemed to exist mainly on "Maconachies", a tinned stew of meat and vegetables that was very nourishing, and very monotonous! This was relieved by bully beef, which I liked. We also had plenty of hard tack, that is, large hard biscuits suitable for any meal. Occasionally, we were able to obtain small, fresh eggs from the Arabs, at exorbitant prices, or bartered in exchange for sugar, over which the Arabs became very excited.
The Messes, in which we gathered for our meals and for relaxation when off duty, were large marquees. Dust and sand were everywhere. A mug of tea invariably held a sediment of sand, up to a quarter of an inch deep (about 6mm). Sand was in the bread, along with the inevitable flour weevils, up to 10 or 12 in every slice, and each creating its own distinctive purple stain around it.
Our cooks made our meals as varied as they were able, with the limited range and quantity of rations received, but we seemed to exist mainly on "Maconachies", a tinned stew of meat and vegetables that was very nourishing, and very monotonous! This was relieved by bully beef, which I liked. We also had plenty of hard tack, that is, large hard biscuits suitable for any meal. Occasionally, we were able to obtain small, fresh eggs from the Arabs, at exorbitant prices, or bartered in exchange for sugar, over which the Arabs became very excited.
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Libyan pics
Here are some of the pics taken 75 years ago in Libya by Reuben (Reub) Giles, DFC, a great friend who was the only one I knew with a camera. These show our Mess tent being erected on arrival from Egypt, and the bar.
The photos are not the best in quality, they are scans of contact prints but still hold much interest for me as mementos of those exciting days. I will use more as appropriate with the posts.
Sergeants and other ranks erecting the mess tents and then we enjoyed the beer. We had 1 litre of beer per person per week, the beer came 100 miles from Tripoli.
Barber service 3 times weekly. Short back and sides optional!
I wasn't keen on haircuts in those days, I'm the one on the right and even corporals with mallets couldn't frighten me!
The photos are not the best in quality, they are scans of contact prints but still hold much interest for me as mementos of those exciting days. I will use more as appropriate with the posts.
Sergeants and other ranks erecting the mess tents and then we enjoyed the beer. We had 1 litre of beer per person per week, the beer came 100 miles from Tripoli.
Barber service 3 times weekly. Short back and sides optional!
I wasn't keen on haircuts in those days, I'm the one on the right and even corporals with mallets couldn't frighten me!
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Walter (your #8336),
You were in the wrong continent, mate ! (and I was on the wrong Thread !)
At Khumbirgram, we'd taken over the tea planter's bungalow as our Mess. Our tables were graced with snowy white tablecloths with a pattern of squares. If you whacked down the "ship's biscuits" down hard on them, some of the livestock would be thrown out. If two or three landed in one square, bets could be laid on which "horse" would crawl to an edge first. The ones left in the "hard tack" didn't taste too bad, and it was extra protein after all.
I ate a lot of bully beef (was quite partial to the stuff - still am). For some reason, India had been supplied with enormous quantities of it, far more than we could eat. As it is anathema to the Hindu, I was told that a lot of the tins went into hardcore for concrete. Don't know if it's true.
Happy Days,
Danny.
PS: (your #8337),
Fine pics - and not a man with a BMI more than his age !
Danny.
You were in the wrong continent, mate ! (and I was on the wrong Thread !)
At Khumbirgram, we'd taken over the tea planter's bungalow as our Mess. Our tables were graced with snowy white tablecloths with a pattern of squares. If you whacked down the "ship's biscuits" down hard on them, some of the livestock would be thrown out. If two or three landed in one square, bets could be laid on which "horse" would crawl to an edge first. The ones left in the "hard tack" didn't taste too bad, and it was extra protein after all.
I ate a lot of bully beef (was quite partial to the stuff - still am). For some reason, India had been supplied with enormous quantities of it, far more than we could eat. As it is anathema to the Hindu, I was told that a lot of the tins went into hardcore for concrete. Don't know if it's true.
Happy Days,
Danny.
PS: (your #8337),
Fine pics - and not a man with a BMI more than his age !
Danny.
Walter,
great pictures. When I was an 'erk' in the early sixties and later as NCO Aircrew we were still issued with the same cardboard KD. Almost certainly old war stock.
great pictures. When I was an 'erk' in the early sixties and later as NCO Aircrew we were still issued with the same cardboard KD. Almost certainly old war stock.
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Walter,
Been studying the pics you put in: in the first one, far right, there is some thing which seems to have two 'ears' sitting in a sort of chair. Any idea ?,
What is the purpose of the rows of oil (?) drums ? Recognised a pile of our old friend the empty kerosene/petrol four-gallon can, which can be put to no end of uses.
There seem to be few workers and an awful lot of goofers. This lot need taking in hand !
As you say, UK issue khaki drill was rubbish. Get some decent stuff made up in the local bazaar, and throw the first lot away (together with your 'Bombay Bowler').
How did they manage to get the beer to travel 100 miles from Tripoli without the bottles exploding ? And what did it taste like ? (yes, I know, "there is no bad beer, but some is better than others").
Sharper eyes than mine will pick out other things, I'm sure.
Danny.
Been studying the pics you put in: in the first one, far right, there is some thing which seems to have two 'ears' sitting in a sort of chair. Any idea ?,
What is the purpose of the rows of oil (?) drums ? Recognised a pile of our old friend the empty kerosene/petrol four-gallon can, which can be put to no end of uses.
There seem to be few workers and an awful lot of goofers. This lot need taking in hand !
As you say, UK issue khaki drill was rubbish. Get some decent stuff made up in the local bazaar, and throw the first lot away (together with your 'Bombay Bowler').
How did they manage to get the beer to travel 100 miles from Tripoli without the bottles exploding ? And what did it taste like ? (yes, I know, "there is no bad beer, but some is better than others").
Sharper eyes than mine will pick out other things, I'm sure.
Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 12th Mar 2016 at 15:11. Reason: Typo.