´óÏó´«Ã½

I went into the Air Force in March 1940. I had volunteered as an apprentice in September 1939, but due to illness in the training camp my call-up was deferred. I spent two years training as an apprentice at Cranwell, and then at Halton, and became an instrument maker. This involved joining the bomber squadron and servicing instruments on the aircraft.

I was then sent to Henlow maintenance unit, and joined the section repairing instruments for link trainers- we must’ve had one of the first mock-ups used to train pilots on. However, I grew rather bored doing that, so volunteered for flying training. Again, there was a delay in sending people off for that because of its huge popularity- so I filled in time for a bit.

Eventually I moved to aircraft training at Turnhill (all the male ground staff had been sent to join the Air Force in preparation for the invasion) -and ended up training WAAFs. I was then sent to join the air crew at Heaton Park, in Manchester, where they had a centre for placing trainees overseas.

Then they were asking for volunteers to work in London at Buzzbomb sites (V1s). These were automatic planes sent by the Germans, filled with explosives but no pilot. Fighter people used to try and shoot them down from the ground, or failing that pilots would fly alongside and try to tip them over with their wings, causing them to crash in the countryside. But as often as not they’d reach London, plunge and blow up, causing enormous devastation to the surrounding areas. (Incidentally, when people accuse the British soldiers of ‘wickedness’ during the war, they might remember the indiscriminate nature of these Buzzbombs. There was fault on both sides.)

So my job was a sort of first aid- but with houses. We were based in Hornchurch, Essex, and used to catch the country bus into London. ´óÏó´«Ã½ involved putting temporary covering on the window frames and asbestos sheeting where roofs had blown off. We saw some horrific sights- I remember one house where all the internal walls had been knocked flat. A lady was dusting amidst the rubble and remaining furniture. She told us this was the third time it’d happened to her.

In December 1944 I was posted to Canada, and then to Florida, to train as a pilot. I finally got my wings- a week before the end of the war! I was sent home and given jobs to fill in time. I spent a few more years in the RAF on extended aircrews as an engineer for the Lancasters, and then the Lincolns, and came out in ’48, having never used those wings.

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