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We were sent to Padgate in Lancashire where we were kitted out in our new uniforms, before our spell of square bashing at West Kirby which was situated near Hoylake in Cheshire. It was quite a pleasant camp overlooking the sea and a short walk to the town, cinemas etc.

In the camp itself it wasn’t too bad. It was fairly modern and new and the food was reasonable but there were some soldiers there, physical training corporals and physical training sergeants, who I think were a little bit sadistic, they seemed to be anyway. I suppose we were a bit of a motley bunch. But still. They marched us up and down those parade squares and really put us through the mill. They made us do stupid things really. They made us double up for no reason at all and finally one of my friends was ill as a result of this dashing around and collapsed and they found he had appendicitis and they put a halt to proceedings for a short while. The particular corporal knew that he was in trouble himself and took it out on us in other, more subtle, ways.

Overall though, I did enjoy it and made some very nice friends and with my two best pals we used to visit some ladies and actually joined the local church. They took us under their wings quite happily and also made us very, very welcome at all times. I mention these ladies because they come into the story again later.

After our spell of training in West Kirby, we then were posted off to Melksham in Wiltshire which was again a brand new camp that even had its own cinema. The crowning glory for a lot of the lads was that there were WAFs being trained there as there was another school on the same site and those training there were cooks. They were a crowd of nice girls and also they used to experiment on us. They got us to go over and try what they had just cooked.

However, we settled in and working on general duties and then wnet to West Kirby to learn how to use a gun, throw hand grenades etc, none of which was much good to you as an electrician in the RAF but they seemed to think you needed the training.

From there we had to wait about four months or so before a course vacancy occurred in Henlow in Bedfordshire. There we began our stint and they taught us all the basics of the RAF electronics, gun sights, bombs, bomb aiming things and all the general electrics of aircraft what we had to do on an aerodrome landing lights, runway lights and all that sort of thing both service drills and out in the desert.

Sometimes during a lecture I found myself nodding off and the next thing you had a piece of chalk thrown at you. Anyway, we quite enjoyed it there and stayed until just after Christmas and then we were told that we were going to have a nice long leave and then we were to go abroad. We didn’t particularly want to go although it was more or less inevitable. So we made up our minds to accept it, couldn’t do otherwise really. We just looked forward to our leave and tried to enjoy it when we got home. Obviously we had to go where they sent us and we knew that all sorts of dreadful things were happening and that the Atlantic was full of U-boats and we really thought it was going to be a bit dodgy. We accepted it and waited and then eventually we had a letter come through from the MOD that I’d got to report back to, of all places, the RAF camp at West Kirby. My girlfriend, now my wife came with me as these ladies I mentioned before, said that you can, if you wish, bring your wife with you when you come because most of the boys find it a good idea and so this is what we did. My wife came back with me and I introduced her to these good ladies with me and introduced her to these good ladies and for the duration of the period I was at the camp I used to spend my time, as you can imagine, in Hoylake with these two ladies and my dear wife was very happy. My two friends did much the same thing. We used to go out as a foursome with one, John, whose home was at Southport.

After a while we could see that it was getting a bit close and then without warning, one night, there was a big raid on at Liverpool and shrapnel was falling all over the place going back to the place where these two ladies lived. On the way back from camp so I said ‘goodnight’ and ‘see you in the morning’ etc. However, the RAF must have thought otherwise and when I got back to camp it was full of hustle and bustle ‘get all your camp bags, get all your gear, sign here, write a letter, do this, do that do the other, you’ve got to go to Scotland tomorrow morning’ — this was about 10 o’clock on the Monday night. We had nothing else to do but comply — I didn’t have a chance to say ‘goodbye’ to my wife, just ‘goodnight’ when we parted.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine who wasn’t going abroad, and he promised to tell my wife. Of course I didn’t know the destination but we soon arrived at Port Glasgow. Incredible activity, cars, buses, lorries, all sorts. We were aboard the ship called the SS Strathnaver I think it was a Cunard liner, I’m not sure. We were shephered on board this great big ship with plenty of others nearby and we didn’t know it until then but we were part of a big convoy. Anyway, we sorted ourselves out and found some bunk beds or rather those that could did so. We weren’t all quite so fortunate and some had to sleep on the floor, I was on of them, but after a while it wasn’t too bad especially when we got out into a warmer climate I was quite happy to sleep on the deck I though it would be safer if there was any attack.

I then started to make a tour of the boat with one or two of my friends. It was quite a big ship, the biggest I’d ever been on. I didn’t realise that it was going to be our home for the next two or three months, but the ship itself was quite nice they had galleys for the troops and we ate our meals in there — tins of bully beef etc. They couldn’t run to much. The next day, late in the afternoon we sailed in convoy, down the Clyde, and I’ll always remember thinking what a beautiful sight it was, all the islands as we sailed down to the sea and I wondered if I would ever see anything like this again. Will I ever see the place again. We were all going to something completely unknown.

So there we were, I just gazed over the side feeling sorry for myself, particularly as the very next day was my birthday and I thought ‘what a place to spend my birthday, heading out over the Atlantic and German U-boats not very far away’. However, that’s quite another story. I was quite disappointed and disillusioned because my family had planned a party for me at home as it was my 21st and I had got permission from the RAF people to go to this on a weekend at home and enjoy this party. Of course it wasn’t to be was it? There I was full of misery and gloom — felt like chucking myself over the side but I didn’t think it was a good idea — too wet!

I was rather surprised after a few more days of sailing we didn’t seem to see any land at all we knew the U-boats were there because there were several Naval ships patrolling with us and they kept a watchful eye all around the area nearby and one ship was sunk. Shortly afterwards the naval lads began dropping depth charges so they must have got the one that did the damage. I realised why later that they went right across the Atlantic to the West Indies and although we saw the islands we didn’t go ashore unfortunately. For some unfathomable reason all the ships in the convoy turned round and made for Freetown in north Africa.

We left Freetown and made our way back across the Atlantic again. This seemed silly — you could obviously tell which way you were going by the position of the sun. We continued to sail west from north Africa towards (according to my geography) where South America lay. We didn’t want to go to South America but we came within a few miles of it. Then they turned round and went right back across the Atlantic again till ultimately we finished up at Durban in South Africa. Apparently they were originally planning to go to Singapore but obviously circumstances alter cases, as they say, and they realised they didn’t want to send us there and dump us in the lap of the Japs.

We sailed on and eventually, after about 60 days at sea I think it was, we were allowed ashore at Durban which proved to be a beautiful city. We all took a walk and everyone looked around. To see such a beautiful city was really marvellous, I can’t put it into words. I really thought it was a beautiful place. When we got ashore there the local people were so kind and considerate and they had been waiting at the harbour to take parties to the local sights. One such person picked up my pal and me and took us home first for a meal then took us to a place called ‘The Valley of the Thousand Hills’. They were so trusting. He even loaned me his car! They were really nice and when we went to the cinema in Durban when a picture of the Queen and King George VI, as it was then, came on the screen everyone got up and stood to attention. Not like here when the boys couldn’t get out quick enough.

While I was in Durban we visited cinemas and I was rather keen to see the projection room. In these cinemas they had these sliding roofs so that half way through the show the whole roof slides back and you had a glorious view of the sky. Of course it doesn’t rain very often there, you know. It was really unusual. I made friends with the projectionist there and he was showing ‘Bambi’ I think it was and he asked if I was interested. I said I was as I had worked in cinemas in England and although I wasn’t a projectionist, I was an electrician but I knew about projection. He asked me if I would like a job — I said I can’t very well — I’m in the Air Force! He said ‘after the war will you come and see me, there’s a good job for you. I can get hundreds of people to run the cinema but I can’t find anyone who understands the mechanics of the business’. I promised I would but I had to break that promise.

After we left Durban we sailed past Madagascar and we hit a violent storm during which I was taken ill. When we went to the Middle East to Cairo and Suez, they said you’ll have to go to the hospital. We duly arrived at Suez and and all my pals split up into different places some to Israel and West Desert and all sorts of places.

I waited for my appointment at the hospital. After a couple of days I was temporarily billeted with the Port Officer at Suez, a very nice man who came from Sutton Coldfield originally. It was quite cosy and I enjoyed it there. I had to go to the hospital and have the operation about the same time as the Germans had taken Crete and there were shiploads of wounded soldiers being brought home so of course we were turfed out and I wasn’t too happy about it as I was still feeling the effects of the operation. There was no such thing as convalescence. I finally arrived back at base in Suez and was quite happy supervising loading and unloading of ships. There were about 30 Arabs loading and unloading these ships, carrying stuff, one line in and one line down. On one occasion I was watching them, supposedly in charge, and one of these Arab chappies decided he would have a break and refused to carry any more. There foreman could speak English so I said ‘why isn’t he working?’ He started demonstrating and picks up this great lump of wood, a piece of 2 x 2, wallops this man across the side of the head with it, over he went, off the jetty into the sea and there he stayed. Nobody did anything.

After a while the Port Officer said ‘I’m sorry Jim but your time has come to go’. There is a ship going to Aden and I went aboard and it was a New Zealand crew, a very nice bunch of people. First thing he said was that we have no troop deck accommodation we will have to find you a cabin. I didn’t believe him! So anyway he found me a nice cabin and I didn’t care if I never got to Aden. The food on the ship was absolutely super, eight course meals every day — talk about the idle rich. I got to Aden and said Cheerio to all the chaps and they told me to come and see them in New Zealand, but of course unfortunately I couldn’t do that.

Aden was very, very hot. It was the hottest place under the British flag. About 130o in the shade and there was no shade. It was said that you could fry eggs on the wing of an aircraft. It really was very hot.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by P. Jennings volunteer with WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of Jim Nicholls and has been added to the site with his permission. Jim Nicholls fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

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