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More Drills took up the weeks that followed. (We had in the meantime been issued with arms.) Slope arms, order arms, present arms, trail arms, care of arms etceteras, etceteras. We had bayonet practice, lectures on military law, current affairs, and king's regulations. Guard duties, cookhouse fatigues, route marches, and physical training. The latter often involving cross-country runs over the Yorkshire moors. By the end of the fourth week we were in peak condition.
I have never felt as fit as I was at that period!

The most popular parade of course was the weekly pay parade on Friday.
As our names were called out we came smartly to attention, marched up to the paying officer at the pay table, saluted, one step forward, offered our pay book, signed the pay list, received our pay, one step back, saluted and marched back to the ranks.
We were paid seventeen shillings and sixpence per week, but I later allotted ten shillings to my mother. This left me seven shillings and sixpence.

Then came the time for inoculations.
Tetanus, and Typhus, and a vaccination on the top of our arms. I had rather a bad time with the inoculations, and almost passed out on the parade ground. However, after a day or so, the effects wore off.

Later we had our first experience of poison gas.
This took place in Bradford, where we were taken into a room, told to fit our respirators, and the N.C.O. released the gas from a cylinder. After a moment or two we were ordered to remove our respirators. The resulting effect was a stinging feeling in the nostrils and eyes, and slight difficulty in breathing. We were very glad to get out into the fresh air.
It did however; prove the efficiency of our respirators.

Having been confined to barracks for the period of our initial training, on the third week we had been allowed out. We paraded to select those who had duties to attend to, the rest were dismissed, and I being one of the lucky ones, made my way to the camp guard room, where the R.S.M. was inspecting every man before allowing him out. My turn came, he stood like a ramrod in front of me, eyed me from feet to head, and pounced. Taking off my cap, he looked behind the badge, and throwing the hat back at me said "Clean that polish from the back of your badge, soldier. "
My heart sank, for having been warned previously about this inspection, I had taken the utmost care to ensure that I was perfect.

However, back I went and gave my cap badge a thorough cleaning back and front, and, returning to the guard room was gratified to find that I passed muster and so into the fair city of Bradford, to sample the servicemen's clubs, where a cup of tea, sandwich, rock bun, and books to read were available, I got to know more of my army comrades. and saw some of the sights of this Yorkshire City. Having to be back in camp before 11:00 p.m., by order of the R.S.M. I found myself walking back alone much earlier than that, and was in our billet by about nine thirty pm.

One episode occurred about this time. Joe Brookes, absented himself without leave, and, when a couple of days later, the Red Caps (Military Police) brought him back he was hauled in front of the company commander and given seven days field punishment, or, as it was known, "Jankers."
This was a very severe punishment. Every night after duty between 6:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m. he was put through a drill session by the R.S.M. One had to witness this punishment to appreciate the effect it must have had on the poor chap.

Dressed in full marching order, steel helmet, overcoat, full pack, respirator and rifle. He was marched up and down the parade ground for two hours without a break, with arms drill in between, When he was finally dismissed he came into the barracks, fell down on his bunk, just as he was, and slept for hours. When he took off all his uniform later his shoulder was raw with the chaffing of his webbing straps. This continued throughout the seven days. Perhaps this may seem extreme by today's standards, but it was accepted then, and Joe, a very tough chap, never altered, he was always up to some kind of mischief!

Joe it seemed, thought I was something of a weed, my being on the quiet side. Much later, when we were abroad and he had cause to know me better, admitted as much, and apologised.

Sunday parade was only for inspection, and for the necessary camp duties to be allotted, Cookhouse fatigues, camp cleaning, guard duties and so forth. Then the different religions were called out for church parade.
This was how I met John King, a chap from Sale, in Cheshire. He worked for Freeman Hardy Willis, the shoe people. He, like myself, was a Catholic, and we became firm friends.

On our first Church parade, we were going to Holy Communion, and so had to forego our breakfast. Coming out of church, we were met by a family, Mr. and Mrs. Farley, who had two sons, and one daughter, all of school age. These people were the salt of the earth, very devout Catholics, who lived on an estate near the church. They introduced themselves and invited John and I to share their breakfast, but knowing the ration situation at that time was extremely tight, we were very reluctant to take advantage of this, but these good people insisted, and we were taken into their home, where we were to spend many happy off duty hours.

Mr. Farley showed us the Yorkshire moors, and other sights around Bradford. He and I fought the Wars of the Roses over again amid much laughter! This experience, helped us in some degree, to overcome the sadness of being away from home and those we loved. Unfortunately John left the training cadre and was transferred to Leeds on a non-commissioned officers course, and I never met him again.

Life continued in the same way, until, on the 19th August 1941, we moved to the other side of Bradford, Thornton, where we took over a grammar school.
Here we were formed into a Company, 279 company. It was here, that the men came down with dysentery. What an experience! I have never seen so much 'movement', in my life.
Everyone from the officers down was affected. It was not a very pleasant experience.

Our section now got new NCOs, Sergeant Bell, a little tubby Scotsman, Corporal King, another Scotsman, and Corporal Lockey, he was a rather dour sort of person, who seemed to take an instant dislike to me, the feeling was mutual. (He was later to be promoted to Sergeant).
Our Commanding Officers were Major Scott and Captain Todd, assisted by seven Lieutenants, one for each section, Our Company Sergeant Major was named Bolland, and the Quartermaster was a chap from Preston named Davis.
When everyone was assembled, we made our way to the station, where we boarded a train, and as a company made our way to Huyton near Liverpool. A transit camp, on a council estate.

Our job here was to provide a fire watching service on the dockside warehouses, besides working parties, as well as ongoing training as soldiers. We settled into our billets, (council houses), where we slept on the floor on palliasses.
After settling in, a group of us stood outside the billets awaiting orders. Suddenly one of the officers approached, he ordered myself and another chap, to go round and pick up all the cigarette ends that littered the pavement, seeing that I was a non-smoker, I was a little piqued about this, however we applied ourselves to this task, which the other chaps seemed to find very amusing.

When the NCOs came to sort out each party for that evenings fire watch duty I was selected.
I felt there must be a fatal attraction about me! However, I thought, that was life!

Each evening we were paraded and these parties were selected and marched to the nearest tram stop, where a long line of trams waited. We boarded these and made our way into Liverpool, where we again paraded, and assigned our posts, two men to each warehouse.
After reaching our own individual posts, we had to climb up a stone spiral staircase to the top floor. I think there were about five floors in most of the warehouses.
The top floor was always left empty, except for piles of sand, stirrup pumps, buckets and large tubs of water, which sometimes contained a dead rat, which we had to take out and inter.

After checking these, we proceeded back to the control centre, which was housed on the ground floor of another warehouse, and reported "All correct".
This control centre also contained double bunks, where we slept when the Luftwaffe allowed.
After we had reported all correct to our N.C.O he then dismissed us, telling us to remain in the vicinity, in case of air raid warning, when we must make our way to our posts with all speed.
We were then permitted to go out and enjoy ourselves as best we could, into the blacked out city of Liverpool.

The dock area of Liverpool had been the target for the German air force on many occasions in the past year or so, as one would imagine, and there was much evidence of damage. Many of the warehouses had been bombed or burned.

From the trams, on our way here we had seen streets flattened, and many gaunt skeletons of bombed buildings in the centre of the city. Many of the streets were still blocked by debris and were impassable.
We had many warnings, and air raids, but fortunately came through without casualties, and suffered far less than the poor people of Liverpool had.

The weeks passed, and then came the time for us to move on from Huyton.
We packed up and made our way by lorries to Aintree Race Course, the home of the Grand National, which had been taken over by the army as a camp. Here we billeted in stables, six men to a stable in double bunks. These stables were built in a square with a quadrangle in the middle. Winter was now upon us and the stables were very cold, even though we had one 'Valour' oil stove to each billet. On a few occasions when we returned from our fire watching duties, after heavy falls of snow, we found we had to dig our way into the stable.

One evening I, and another lad named Benedetto, who occupied the bunk above mine and who appeared to be unwell, decided to stay in for the night. Later whilst reading a book I became aware that he seemed to be in some distress. On asking him what was the matter, he began to ramble, and I noticed that he was sweating, and shivering. I covered him with a few blankets from the other bunks, and ran for the Orderly Sergeant. He came and, on examining him said, "This looks like pneumonia, I'll get the Medical Officer". This lad was rushed to Walton Hospital, and he never returned to our unit.

Life went on as before, fire watching, working parties on ammunition dumps, drills, guard duties, route marches, and at one period, taking part in a large scale exercise in Liverpool.
Many units of the army took part in these manoeuvres, which were designed to train us in street fighting. Our company was divided into sections, each of which had an officer whose job it was to decide when we had been "killed" or taken "prisoner" by other units, or if we had "killed or "captured" men of other units.

One night we were told that the "Enemy" were occupying an air raid shelter in an area near us. We attacked this shelter at dusk, firing off our blank ammunition, and thunder flashes, which were a large fireworks to represent hand grenades, and we managed to take the shelter together with some "Prisoners," who were members of a Scotch regiment, The faces of these lads when we stormed in, and their officer told them they were our "Prisoners," was a picture I will never forget!

A few weeks later the sections of our company were moved around, and our NCOs changed. A new Sergeant Major took over and we also got a new Captain. Our Sergeant was a Yorkshire man and a Catholic. We became section two. It was about this time that I first crossed swords with the Corporal. On a Sunday parade he assigned me to cookhouse fatigues. When I made a request to attend church parade he refused my request. On being dismissed I sought out the sergeant who told me to attend church parade and report to the cookhouse after returning to camp.

This obviously widened the gap between the Corporal and myself, and he tried to make my life a little bit harder.

Whilst I was here my brother Bill visited me when he was on leave, and we spent a very pleasant day together sightseeing around Liverpool.

A few weeks later the Duke of Kent inspected the company. We were paraded in front of the grandstand for this auspicious occasion. He walked along the ranks, pausing now and then to speak a few words to one of the men. Later he was killed in an air accident.
Liverpool held its War Weapons week, and our section was picked to march through the city, with other regiments. The good people of Liverpool gave us a rousing reception. Lord Derby took the salute at Saint George's Hall. Our section finished the day tired and footsore, but very proud!

On the 7th December 1941 Japan bombed Pearl Harbour and brought America into the war.

On the 18th December 1941 I was making my way back to my billet from the showers, which were under the grandstand, when a Sergeant from one of the other sections called me over, "I believe you are a musician, Ainsworth". I replied that I had indeed told the recruiting Sergeant that I played the drums. "Well" he said, "We are organising a company band, and we require a drummer, are you interested"? Was I interested? I nearly fell over myself in eagerness.

However I managed to say calmly that I was. "I hope you are not a time waster," the Sergeant said. "We have already tried a few who have been no use." I assured him (With my fingers crossed) That I was fairly competent having been trained by a professional drummer, and had played with a small dance band, and a brass band, "Right," he said "make your way to the officers mess, I will meet you there in five minutes."

The officer's mess was in a hotel at the gates of the camp. "The Sefton", so after taking my towel and soap to my billet I went there. The Sergeant met me, and took me up stairs to what was obviously the function room. Here he introduced me to the rest of the band. I of course knew them as members of the company.
The Sergeant played trumpet, my own section Corporal played Sax and doubled on clarinet, the Corporal played Piano, Private Rhymer played guitar and accordion, this chap was a theatrical artist, who together with his father formed an equilibrium act known as "The Two Eddies." Private Henkiel played violin, he also arranged our music when we got it later. After setting up the drums to my satisfaction I sat down and said that I was ready. We kicked off with a quickstep. When we finished the Sergeant said "Right, you are in!" And so began a period of exciting days excused drills, and fire watch duties, (or at least some of them,) and experience with an army dance band.

Christmas Eve 1941 we played at the Garrick Theatre in Liverpool. We excelled! It was a great dance. The daily practices that we had worked hard at, now paying off. We had further engagements at the Garrick, and played at Crosby Hall, just outside Liverpool, for a dance.
This place was a convalescent home for wounded servicemen.

We got engagements with other company's to play at their dances. Later we were engaged by a free Dutch group to play at a matinee concert in Liverpool.

My first Christmas in the army was a somewhat bittersweet affair. We were awakened on Christmas morning by an officer who brought us tea in bed. Our Christmas dinner was something to write home about, but the absence of our loved ones took the gilt off it.

Part Three

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