´óÏó´«Ã½

It was the custom that, if someone would be returning from leave or a weekend pass, a pal would make up his bed as the return would probably be after 'Lights out'. Of course there was bound to be the odd practical joker that would make up an apple pie bed for someone returning. Sometimes the bed would be partly dismantled so that when the occupant climbed in, the bed would disintegrate amidst some confusion, especially if the victim had taken too much beverage during the evening. On one occasion, a bed was made up with a dummy in it and when the rightful occupant returned, after 'Lights out', he was informed that a new posting had come in after a very long journey. It was thought that as the bed was apparently vacant for the night, he should sleep in it. The rightful occupant thought it only fair not to awaken the newcomer and so slept on the floor for the night.... he was not very amused in the morning! At a later date, whilst being billeted in a hut, someone had the bright idea of fixing the bed of a bod away on leave, to the rafters and when the occupant returned, again after 'Lights out', he found that his bed was missing! And it wasn't until the following morning that he discovered his bed up in the roof. Practical joking was to play a great deal towards relieving the monotony and boredom that could so easily exist, in most cases it certainly improved a persons sense of humour.
Turns were taken to perform the task of 'room orderly', the duties of which were to see that everything was shipshape in the billet prior to a visit from the orderly officer. At one time it was discovered that mice had found their way into the billet and a mousetrap was set. One morning the duty officer marched into the billet and saw the trap on the floor, to which he enquired of the room orderly "What is that?", the orderly replied with a sheepish grin: "A mouse trap, sir". The officer then retorted that he could see that it was a mousetrap but what was it doing on the floor? The airman meekly replied that it was there to catch a mouse! There followed a discourse as to the legality of the situation, during which he was assured that this invasion had been reported and the trap had been allocated to deal with the situation. He accepted this statement but offered the advice that on the morrow, the trap must be out of sight! On the following morning the O.O. decided to check if the tops of the lockers had been dusted and ran his fingers along them until from the top of one came a resounding 'snap' followed by a yell! The surprised officer calmed down a little and had to admit that he had given instructions that the offending article should be placed out of sight. It should be explained that the orderly officer happened to be none other than a very well known film star who had appeared in the film version of Shaw's 'Pygmalion' as the dustman father of Eliza Doolittle. He was suffering from a broken arm at the time and had been put on 'Light Duties' and so was a semi permanent orderly officer. It just so happened that I was the 'room orderly' at the time of the first visit!
If because of a duty, one had to arise early before reveille, one could book an early call at the guardroom overnight, leaving the billet and room number for reference. For the guard to recognise the right individual to call, one had to place a towel over the foot of the bed. Many a joker has returned after 'lights out' from an evening imbibing of the liquid refreshment and seeing that someone had booked an early call would replace the towel on someone else's bed. This would create a certain amount of confusion in the early hours! To retaliate, the victim would, at the first opportunity awake the culprit during the night and to ask the question: "Do you want to buy a battleship?" This question was often asked during sleeping hours, due to the fact that the awakened bod would usually have to make a visit to the toilet! I remember that at one time we had a cook billeted in our room and it often befell him to be on 'Early turn’, which required that he be awakened by the off-going duty cook, who would bring a mug of tea. As all the occupants would wake at this call, usually about four in the morning, to keep the peace, he would bring a bucket of strong sweet tea and would serve it to all who wanted a mug. The result of this action would be that there would be a continuous line of bods making a trip to the ablutions and those who preferred not to take advantage of this early morning refreshment but wished to continue sleeping, would be awakened with the question of "would they like to buy a battleship?" (I have no idea of the origin of this question, but it was in common use in the RAF in those days.)
As each airman was responsible for the cleanliness of his own bed space, each Thursday evening would see a mass exercise of floor polishing with active use of a very weighted brush on the end of a long handle, a 'Bumper' which was used first to brush in the polish (Turps with a mixture of beeswax) into the wooden floor, followed by another going over with a piece of old blanket under the bumper to bring up a high polish. The main body of the floor was a joint responsibility and once completed, no, just NO ONE was permitted to walk upon it unless pieces of blanket covered the soles of one's feet! One evening, whilst the 'Bull night' was being carried out, one character stood close to the foot of my bed to do his hair, the only mirror in the room was situated on the wall close to my bed space and somehow or other, he dropped his jar of 'Brylcreem' which split asunder leaving a thick covering of the contents on the floor, including my bed space. Once this mess had been cleaned up, we discovered that this part of the floor had an even brighter polish, which was noticed by the orderly officer the next morning. He enquired as to why the whole floor was not to this standard! However, he was not prepared to put forward a suggestion that all floors be polished with 'Brylcreem'. Once the room had been cleaned and polished we would all troop off to the NAAFI leaving one bod on guard to prevent anyone entering the billet.
During the winter of 40/41, the only representatives of the opposite sex on the camp were one WAAF cipher officer who could be seen at work in station H.Q. There were quite a number of girls running the NAAFI who were kept under the constant eye of their 'Mother Hen' (Manageress) who was responsible for them. There was quite a panic one night when some practical jokers borrowed a ladder from 'Works and Bricks' and left it leaning against a window of the NAAFI girl’s quarters! She, who had to be obeyed, insisted on a thorough role call of all her girls before she was satisfied that none had been kidnapped.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.