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I received this story several years ago from my Uncle Gilbert Francis Penver. I lost my beloved uncle a couple of years ago, and although our family stretches across the sea he will always be in our hearts. This story is told in his words, and I’m sure he would’ve been proud to post it here at this site.

First involvement in radar

Some general comments on the subject as seen by the writer in conjunction with others on Reg Batt's book The Radar Army.

It might be relevant if the limits of my own prior experience and knowledge were outlined at the start. Briefly, at the outbreak of war I was a petrol storekeeper with Shell. On call up in September 1939 I was put into a petrol company of the RASC (Birmingham Territorials), nominally as a driver, but factually when there was no shooting, as Company Clerk (I am no mean two-finger typist and to be honest, that was where I was most use, and there was probably a shortage of chaps that could).

When the shooting started - not having a vehicle allocated - I became a Bren gunner, sitting for many hot and dusty miles in the rotating seat of a Motley, mounting and reloading magazines whenever the convoy became static. Five thousand rounds, and only a dive bomber streaming glycol to show for it!

After Dunkirk, it was back in the Company Office typing Daily Orders for the Notice Board and proceedings of Courts of Enquiry - which seem to have been held whenever some poor ‘Racker’ (RASC driver) dented his wing on a gatepost.

It was then the period when we in the Army sat behind the protective wall of the Channel and the superb performance of the 'Few' - and when we started to sort ourselves out into the roles for which the Establishment belatedly thought we were best fitted to continue the war.

Forms had to be filled in about education, skills and hobbies. Before the war I had matriculated at school, and was a keen amateur radio builder and listener. I was proposed twice for a commission (which would almost certainly have been in the infantry) and twice had to explain to my colonel that officers in those days were expected to dress for dinner (later in the war battledress was OK) and were so poorly paid that they had to rely on a private income which I did not possess.

When at one stage they started looking for people having the right educational background to work with ‘radiolocation’, without the foggiest idea what it was all about, I volunteered - although later I was told I would not have had any choice, others were simply drafted and I was transferred into the Royal Army Ordinance Corps (RAOC) later to become Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (REME).

Training and promotion

My induction course was at Portsmouth Municipal College, but it could have been almost anywhere with radio/electronics teaching capabilities and laboratories. It consisted of basic electronics. The tutors were the normal civilian staff helped out by Army technical types - sergeants who were temporary, but with good technical knowledge like civilian repair men.

Later the civilian instructors were given Sam Browne belts and the right to salute with their left hand, the right hand being preoccupied with a newly-acquired swagger cane. In having to possess a better than average education, it meant that the vast majority of students were already NCOs who had been guaranteed the retention of their rank.

Normally, on posting, rank was that which they had held for a prescribed period (War Substantive, this varied with rank, but Corporal was at least six months) - this avoided the quick bump-up as a going-away present. It later presented morale problems, since promotional openings were strictly controlled by establishment allocation.

Being thus already overstaffed with NCOs, promotion for REME radar mechanics was almost unheard of, but it all lapsed into uneasy acceptance. On the job, work was controlled by the chap with the highest trade test qualification, while the bloke with most stripes was allowed to shout at the others on the parade ground.

Mechanics were posted on a this course from all arms, except perhaps Signals and Infantry, but Gunners, RASC and other regiments were compelled to transfer if they had the necessary educational requirements. A friend told me recently that he was sent much against his will from the Medical Corps.

Instructor training

Although I volunteered out of interest, others did not have much say in the matter. If you were below the rank of Warrant Officer and had a good education, they grabbed you. Passing out should have been and was, a doddle, with my amateur experience and enthusiasm.

I was diverted from what should have been the normal sequence of events by being told my marks were respectably high, and I was to go on a one month's instructors' course, also that after an unspecified period of time teaching other intakes, I would be posted to No.1 Radio Mechanics School, where I would be taught about the specific 'radiolocation' (radar was an American word, used later) equipment.

This course, and experience as an instructor, would subsequently guarantee me a place on an the Arm Art (Armament Artificer) course, and that if I passed it would be with the rank of Staff Sergeant.

Getting real

The one-month instructor's course was at the Northampton Polytechnic in City Road, and was a great deal more intensive than I had anticipated. The mathematical/technical level was now outside my experience, with a great deal more calculus than I had learned to date - more inter BSc level. Smart ass who thought he knew it all began to realise just how little he did, in fact, know.

Fortunately they seemed to set more store in lecturing ability than examination results, and for the passing-out test we had to give a lecture before the whole faculty - being allowed to choose our own subject. I chose "Aerials and Feeders". This seemed to give most students headaches, but was nearest to my amateur heart, and I felt from some comments I heard that I had impressed the examining board, because much of it was over their head. (And mine today.)

I was lucky (or perhaps they arranged things that way if they could) to be posted back to Portsmouth Municipal College as a tutor. At Portsmouth I learned to recognise the malcontents early. The fundamentally unsuitable, and the duffers, were weeded out by means of an early entrance type examination, and returned without disgrace to their Units. They were grateful, and the college relieved not to have wasted their time.

It was an enjoyable period, wearing sergeant's stripes (temporary) with a certain amount of respect being shown, civvy billets (theatrical landlady), coffee in the Commonroom with the rest of the staff in the mornings, and a feeling of being outside the army.

Unhappily this lasted only three months. They had taken a sledgehammer to crack a nut, and involving nearly every technical college in the country, had already put 30,000 mechanics through the basic course - thus diminishing the need for tutors.

I was posted to No 1 Radio Mechanics School at Gopsall Hall, near Twycross, Leicestershire, joining a normal intake. They were overstaffed with Arm Arts as well. I lost my temporary stripes, and suffered the humiliation, while waiting for the start of the equipment course, of being seen weeding the garden by an incoming draft - which included my last class at Portsmouth.

Without malice, indeed some concern, they asked what I had done to get demotion and 'jankers' (what Americans call KPs - Kitchen Police - since it mostly involved potato peeling).

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