- Contributed by听
- CSV Action Desk/大象传媒 Radio Lincolnshire
- People in story:听
- Jim Homewood
- Location of story:听
- UK and Imphal (Manipur State, India)
- Background to story:听
- Royal Air Force
- Article ID:听
- A5755656
- Contributed on:听
- 15 September 2005
The day war broke out, my Brother and myself had one more day鈥檚 holiday to go in Cleveleys. We were 16 at the time and it was the first time we had been to the seaside for more than a day. Realising what a momentous decision it was, my Mother, with whom we had visited the boarding house, asked our opinion, and, with true British grit, we decided to stay where we were and hope for the best. Thinking about it, this seems to be the favourite philosophy today, as it was during the blitzes.
Although, on our eventual coach journey back home we were treated to our first sight of a barrage balloon, apart from rationing, it was to be over 12 months, i.e. December 1940 before the war seriously affected Manchester in the form of the Christmas Eve blitz. This was our first real taste of what total war actually meant. I remember nights when, having been roused from our beds, we spent hours in our Anderson shelter only to finally hear the All Clear. There was on exception to this when I spent half the time looking under my be for my sock. My Mother meanwhile was having a good wash, as she said to Dad 鈥淚f I鈥檓 going to meet my Maker, I am going to go clean鈥. The logic of this escaped us as we had no difficulty in imagining the state of her shoul this unfortunate demise occur.
As far as I can remember, both Liverpool and London fared far worse than we did, although the first blitz was enough for me. I felt that this was a war of attrition with countless disturbed nights followed by hardworking and boring days. Whatever else we Brits could pride ourselves on it was also our endurance. This, however, did not apply to me personally as tired, weary and bored out of my skull, I decided to join the RAF, 2 days after my 18th birthday.
Following 5 months deferred service, I reported to Blackpool on March 3rd 1941 where I was to spend 12 weeks as one of the entertaining sights for the holidaymakers as we did our square bashing in between learning the Morse Code. It was at this time that I had another medical to be told that, whilst I was medically fit otherwise to fly, I should never do this if I had a cold as this might cause me to have a perforated ear. As I had had reservations about flying anyway, and could not imagine going to the bomber commander and telling him that I could not fly that night as I had a cold, I chose to go as a ground wireless operator
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