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This story has contribute by a volunteer on behalf of Roy Simmonds. Roy fully understands the websites terms and conditions.

Around the beginning of 1943, there was a feeling amongst several of us aircraft engineering apprentices, that life could be far more interesting in the services, and because of the close proximity of Hornchurch aerodrome and the flying activity to be seen on a daily basis, the thinking was towards the Royal Air Force, in a flying capacity.

About the beginning of March I went and signed on in Romford, and after a satisfactory medical exam, was sent off to Cardington near Bedford for another more thorough medical examination, a written exam, and an interview by several elderly senior officers; They were quite satisfied for me to join their club, But, I had opted to become a pilot, and they pointed out that the training time for a pilot was about two years, and they offered me the alternative of Flight Engineer with a training time of about 9-10 months; now the signs were that the end of the war was in sight, some contracts at work were already being cancelled, so to get into the war it was sensible to go for the Flight Engineer option, which I did.

As an engineer, I had a trade test, which when I had completed the Flight engineers coarse credited me with an extra 2 and a half shillings a day pay. There was still a problem, because I was in a 鈥渞eserved鈥� occupation, as an engineer, and the Company would not release me; but by the end of October to start the system working, I was made redundant, and sent to work at Briggs Bodies, a company which in peacetime, made the bodies for Ford cars; I worked in the tool room there until I was called up at the beginning of December 1943.
I reported to Lords Cricket Ground at St.Johns Wood near Regents Park in London on 6th.December 1943 known as a reception unit where we were issued with uniforms, including a white flash for our caps which denoted air crew under training, we had another medical, which included a chest x-ray which was till then unknown to me, a dental check which caused me to be sent for urgent treatment, which proved to be on the wrong victim and also showed that the system was fallible; so beware!

For the next 3 weeks we spent marching around and generally taught how to operate in a service environment; the system again played up when I failed to get a pass out to go to Southend for Christmas. On Christmas Day, I went to a performance of the 鈥淢essiah鈥� in the Albert Hall on Christmas Day, so persuaded a colleague to join with me and walk to the Albert Hall to see what was going on; when we got there, the doors were open and we wandered in, to find not what I had expected, but a concert put on by and for the London Fire Brigade and Auxiliaries.

A few days after Christmas we went by train overnight to Bridlington, up on the North East coast to an I.T.W.- Initial Training Wing, which should have been a 6 weeks course. We were billeted in a large house in a district which had suffered from bombing with bombed and derelict houses around us, with us frozen stiff and forbidden to use all the damaged timber wanting to be tidied up.

Much of our tuition took place in a large hotel suffering from bomb damage, and considering the time of year it was a most uninspiring area. After about 3 weeks I finished up in sick quarters with influenza. I was sent home for two weeks sick leave, a few days of which I spent at Telscombe, with Auntie Cis. When I returned, I reported to the orderly room, and on the notice board was a memo stating "The flight engineers course is closing at Bridlington and reopening at Newquay". I had to be interviewed by the Education officer, and I suggested that it would be better for me to start the course again.

Getting out of the train at Newquay station was like dreamland with golden sand and blue sea, and despite the fact that it was only January, I felt that this was going to be a very pleasant 6 weeks. In my favour, was the fact that I had already done half of the course at Bridlington, and the most difficult subject was learning the Morse Code, which I had already broken the back of before joining up, at the A.T.C, which I had been recommended to join. This left me with a fair degree of freedom. On Sundays which was our day off, apart from the occasional Church parade, we used to go for walks one of which was to Perranporth about 6 miles away, and our route apparently went across a rifle range, because we seemed to be experiencing shots flying over our heads!

The cliffs northwards were very good, as well as the river Gannel to the south, and when the sun was shining, there were plenty of spots to sit out of any wind to just enjoy the sunshine. This was a happy six week course, and to crown it we were all sent off to various Advanced Flying Units (A.F.U.s) to get some flying experience.

I went to Babdown Farm near Tetbury, flying in Airspeed Oxfords. The real task of the unit was to train pilots to fly twin engine aircraft, after having been taught on single engine machines; we 鈥渟progs鈥� were to fly with the trainee pilot and instructor, sitting on the wing spar behind the other two pilots who were sitting side by side, our task was to take an interest in what was going on.

My first trip was with the flight commander, who as far as I can remember was taking a senior [to him] pilot as student. We set off from Babdown, then crossed the river Severn at low altitude. In fact, I felt I could have dipped my fingers in the water if the window was open. It was a good job the tide was out! We then proceeded across the Forest of Dean, still hugging the tree tops up hill and down dale, until I saw the Sugar Loaf mountain, at which point we turned back on a different route. This time we seemed to be flying at river level along the River Wye, with steep hillsides on either side. This may have been Symons Yat.

The next day, the pilot who had me under his wing took me on a night flying 鈥渁ir test鈥� and I was able to sit in the second pilots seat, which was good fun, especially when he said "have a go". We also had some A.T.C. cadets in the back, and I bet they were very envious of me. I enjoyed this so when another pilot was off on a night flying test, I invited myself aboard, but what I had not noticed was that it was slightly foggy, for which at a much later date, I found the remark in my records, 鈥渒een on bad weather flying鈥�. My last flight of note was an obligatory night flight, with one Pilot Officer Lichorish as instructor on a 鈥渃ross country鈥� flight of just over 1 hour. What I found interesting was firstly the instructor seemed very 鈥渢witchy鈥�, which meant that either he had been warned that there could be enemy aircraft around; or that he had had a rough time on operations before becoming an instructor. Secondly, I was surprised at the poor standard of blackout, yet I could recognise Oxford by the road layout. I left Babdown at the end of March for a weeks leave.

My next assignment was to a School of Technical Training at Locking, just east of Weston Super Mare in Somerset. Here we were given instruction on air-frames and engines, mostly in fairly general terms. This culminated after each session, on working on engines, with practical experience of running the engine at full throttle, exercising the propeller and checking the magnetos.

The first aircraft was a Gipsy Major, mounted on a stand. The second was a Hercules engine on a Beaufighter. This was quite exciting - sitting in the pilots seat. The third was a Merlin engine mounted on a Spitfire. When the throttle was wide open at 1000hp plus, the aircraft really felt that it wanted to fly, which was difficult because there was a hanger in the way, and flying was lesson two which I had not yet reached! This was possibly the highlight of the course.

One of the evening entertainments was a twice weekly music appreciation group held in a large carpeted room furnished with armchairs, with tea or coffee and biscuits half time. One night in the week was a set programme, the other night was members choice from a rather limited selection. The gramophone was clockwork, needing winding up on each disc, the discs were 78`s, they ran at 78 r.p.m. and the needles were fibre, which needed sharpening. For best results for each side played. The real killer was Bach`s toccata and fugue in D minor which sounded a bit rough, often before one side had completed. I was asked to give a programme one evening, which turned out to be 鈥淒鈥� Day. One of my choices was Beethoven`s 5th. symphony, which fitted in very well with the occasion.

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One evening, I was wandering towards the Naafi, when coming towards me was my friend Len Cooke. He had been on a pilots/navigators course, and as had been anticipated, the course had been cut back and he had been transferred to the flight engineers course, hence his presence at Locking. Once he had got his bike on the camp, we were able to do quite a bit of exploring around the Mendips and Bristol, including an exploration of one of the caves in Burrington Combe.

The course lasted 8 weeks, and after another week's leave I was sent to St Athans in Glamorgan, just west of Cardiff. This was a 16 week course, concentrating on specific aircraft.

The first part of the course was generally about one particular aircraft, in my case it was the Lancaster. At the end of this phase, we were given a choice as to which aircraft we wished to concentrate on. This was a Lancaster or Halifax, though there were other options like Sunderlands, Liberator, and Catalina all used in Coastal Command; but I had already concluded that the Lancaster was the best of the bunch and opted for it without hesitation. It looked right, and the systems all appeared to be straight forward, and the simple systems usually have the least problems. The standard engine was the Merlin; but I was impressed by the workmanship on the Hercules. These were only fitted to about 300 Lancasters. As it transpired the Supercharger on the Hercules was poorly designed, and ran out of power at about 18,000ft. Whilst the Merlin was doing well at 22,000ft, a crucial difference where anti-aircraft fire was concerned.

The second part of the course concentrated on the Lancaster in every detail, including the Merlin engine, as well as performance. We climbed over the aircraft, ran the engines and carried out operating procedures in a fuselage, with all the instruments behaving as for real, although controlled by an electronic system out of sight at the back somewhere This was very much like the present day 鈥渇light trainer鈥�. We were taught to 鈥渇ly鈥� the Link Trainer, which enabled one to learn to fly using the 鈥渂lind flying鈥� instruments on a panel, which was common to all British made aircraft. This meant that I could fly the Lancaster night or day without looking out of the window; in fact looking out only confused me!

Len Cooke who was possibly 4 weeks behind me, eventually turned up, and with our bikes we were able to get around the Vale of Glamorgan, to see the sights, and visit the odd pub away from the camp environment.

In St Athans there was a large theatre where we watched films; and saw concerts by the B.B.C. Symphony Orchestra who were based in Cardiff. We also went to one or two operas. Then around the middle of October in 1944, after successfully passing all my exams, I gathered my brevet and sergeants stripes and was given a ticket to Chedburgh, in Suffolk to meet a crew and start flying with them.

After a week's leave, during which I was rather disturbed by flying bombs tearing across hell bent on London, I set off through rural Suffolk on a single track railway to Bury St. Edmunds, an American officer shared the compartment with me, and he took out a box of Dairy Milk chocolates and offered me one or two. This was a rare treat during war-time rationing, that the Americans shared their luxuries with us. He came from Lavenham airfield and probably purchased them in the mess, which is more than I would expect in our mess.

From Bury St Edmunds I caught a bus to Chedburgh. After registering with all the different sections on the site, a ritual to be performed on any new station, I met up with my crew, who were of a similar age. The pilot Eric Kitson was the same age as me, and we hit it off straight away. The rest of the crew I also found very friendly, and as time would tell, very competent. The unit was known as a heavy conversion unit i.e. from twin engines to four engines. The crew I met had already spent several weeks working as a team on twin-engined Wellington aircraft. I had now joined them to help manage the greater complications of a four-engined machine. To my chagrin, the aircraft they were flying were Stirlings, which I was not familiar with, and not particularly enamoured with, but we had to get on with it, though luckily for not very long.

Kit and I spent two days being briefed on the characteristics, engines, fuel systems and all other flying systems necessary to get the thing off and back onto the ground. I was then taken out to an aircraft and never having been in one before, was blindfolded and asked to locate the fire extinguishers; luckily I had noticed such things on our way up to the flight deck from the entrance, so all was well.

We got airborne without much delay with a pilot instructor with Kit and our earlier instructor showing me the ropes, one important task was to check the undercarriage, which was electrically operated, and to establish that it was down and fit to land on. The number of revolutions turned by the electric motor had to be the same as that required to retract it, which meant memorising the number on a counter before you take off! Then check that it is the same before landing; the problem was trying to remember it whilst worrying about many other things like engine temperatures and pressures.

We completed our take-off and landing exercises, a total of 12 hours, and on the penultimate landing, whilst taxi-ing we heard a terrific explosion and the aircraft keeled over and stopped. We had had a tyre burst and as they were about 6 feet in diameter, they contained a lot of high pressure air. On our last attempt to take off, two engines on the starboard side stopped and could not be started. It appeared that the cables from the flight deck to the engines had stretched enough for them to be turned on in the 鈥渃ab鈥� but remain off at the engines. It was obviously time for the Aircraft to be retired !!

The unit was transferring to North Luffenham, near Stamford and we were given a week or so leave whilst the transfer was actioned, and then we were to continue the course on Lancasters.

Our first introduction was on a taxi trip to Ossington to ferry someone for an unknown reason and we [our crew] were travelling as passengers. The familiarisation of the aircraft was to take place on the return journey. Unfortunately the undercarriage would not lock down, and all tricks were played including the last resort which was to use the emergency air, supplied for the purpose, all to no avail. This meant an 鈥渆mergency鈥� landing, and everybody had to sit in the crash position behind the rear spar, for the landing. We landed with no problem, but having used the emergency air, the aircraft was no longer flyable, so we had to ride back to North Luffenham in the back of a lorry. Before we left the aircraft, I had a quick look around the undercarriage and the lock was just about one inch from safe.

That episode was on 1st January 1945.

To be continued

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