大象传媒

From Sawbridgeworth we now started a series of weeks at different locations, all part of the training to get experience on various types of aircraft. We were billeted at West Hampnett. We took Spitfires at that time, they were flying escort to the American B17 Flying Fortesses, and it was a fantastic sight to see them circling round against the clear blue sky of a winters day, as they formed up before heading out over the continent.
One night at Tangmere (whilst billeted at West Hampnett) we spent in marshalling a force of Lancasters that had to divert because of fog: showing them to dispersals round the aerodrome. We had to pick up a number of incendiary bombs from the runway having stuck on the raid, they fell off on landing. Some of our unit also got into trouble for eating the emergency rations such as Horlicks tablets etc. carried on the Lancasters.
Memories of delicious apple pies in the N.A.A.F.I. canteen at Tangmere and lots of earwigs in the food at West Hampnett 鈥� where the steam caused masses of them to drop on the plates from the top of the servicing hatches when the lids were lifted off the dixies. Of walking down the road to the billets and seeing large puffs of smoke coming from the chimney of our Nissen hut; some of our armourers having put a handful of 303 in the stove just for kicks.
We next moved on to Ford aerodrome in Sussex (today an Open Prison), where we spent some time familiarising ourselves on the tricycle-under-carriaged Mitchell light bombers. They were engaged in night sweeps across the channel. One afternoon, I managed to go on a pre-op test flight in this plane, in which we did some low level passes along the seafront of the nearby towns. When we were due to land there was a plane stuck on the end of the runway so we had to stooge around for a bit, the radio was tuned to the B.B.C. and one of the tunes that came over was: 鈥業鈥檝e got spurs that Jingle, Jangle, Jingle, as I go riding merrily along鈥�, which seemed very appropriate to the occasion.
From Ford the short cut to the pub was across the air field to Yapton. Returning in the dark one night and staggering over the grass and run way, two of us had the cheek to go to the cook-house and ask for and get a night-flying supper of 鈥楬am and Egg鈥�. A rare treat as we were only entitled to a mug of cocoa at suppertime.
The senior driver of our truck and I were manning a petrol tanker at one stage at Ford, when he was unfortunate enough to fall off and break a leg, so I became the one and only driver of our truck which pleased me very much. Not his broken leg.
It was now February 1943 and we had a fall of snow. It was also time to join in large scale manoeuvres with the Army, so loading all our gear into the trucks we set off along the south coast road to Lyndhurst in the New Forest to take part.
I think it was called 鈥極peration Spartan鈥� or some such name. I do know our rations were cut down severely and the surrounding pubs were forbidden to give us any food, at least servicemen wearing steel helmets, which we were obliged to do: some of us did manage to get some stale cake one night by walking to Brockenhurst station.
The cooks did their cooking on a fire made by placing two oblong steel 鈥榩lanks鈥� - meant for getting trucks out of soft ground - onto supports, and using the local wood for fuel, of which there was a plentiful supply, prepared by one whom we christened 鈥淐hopper Young鈥�; he seemed to derive great pleasure and satisfaction from felling and cutting up the trees.
As the operation proceeded, we moved up to Lord Caernarvon鈥檚 estate at Highclere Castle, near Newbury. We spent a few days in the grounds there. I remember the weather was very frosty and seeing 鈥楥hopper Young鈥� who was sleeping in a depression in the ground, covered with his gas cape and completely merging with the landscape in perfect camouflage despising the comfort of the tarpaulin. The tarpaulin we laid on the ground before driving the truck on top, tying one side up to the truck and letting down a kind of permanently attached tent from the other side of the truck. This allowed from eight to ten people to sleep side by side; of course fully clothed. Whilst there we were paraded and ordered to stop firing guns as some were doing, probably at the pheasants which abounded in these parts.
We now moved on to the downs at Lambourn, where the Army Engineers had laid out a wire mesh runway called 鈥楽ommerfield track鈥�, but it was a 鈥榙ry鈥� runway as no planes landed, although there were quite a lot taking part in the exercise.
I was surprised to see the small lads in the pub at Lambourn until someone pointed out that they were either jockeys or stable-lads, it being a racehorse training area. The weather was very cold during the few days we spent there, but we managed to make ourselves a bit more comfortable by putting lots of the farmer鈥檚 straw on the floor of the tent.
We were now back at Sawbridgeworth and the comfort of the Nissen huts, with beds which had the usual service mattress composed of three 鈥榖iscuits鈥� with blankets folded on top. Some of the unit found the mattresses were handy to try out their Commando knives, which we had now been issued.
My other weapon the Sten gun, issued mainly to the drivers was giving trouble with the magazines. So whilst on hut orderly duties one morning, after adjusting them, I tried pushing the rounds off the top keeping the bolt under control with my hand. However, my hand slipped, the 9 m.m. bullet passing through the double skin of our hut and also the hut next door. I had a quick worried look next door but thank goodness it was empty, so putting my gun behind my greatcoat, I made my way up to the airstrip; luckily the service police in a nearby hut had not heard the shot being fired!

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