大象传媒

"Fall out for a smoke", was to be the most welcome order to be given to us during the next six weeks, the weeks that the drill instructors assured us we would never forget! We were grouped into squads of thirty and each squad allocated a hut, which would be our home for the duration of our stay. We were introduced to the Corporal who would take charge of us and would instruct on discipline and how we should become good airmen worthy of the King's uniform. Once inside the hut we were allocated bed-spaces, the cleanliness and tidiness of which would be the responsibility of its occupant, whilst all would share the general cleanliness of the hut. We were familiar with the way bedding had to be laid out from our brief stay at Uxbridge, but here the actual beds were modern compared with the iron contraptions we had left behind at Uxbridge, these actually had springs around the frame! We were issued with four blankets, two sheets and a pillowcase, the latter items to be exchanged each week for laundering.
Once settled in, the Corporal proceeded to inform us of the rules and regulations that we were now bound to adhere to, or face 'Jankers'. We were told that reveille would be sounded at 06.00 hrs. that we would have to be ready to parade for breakfast by 07.00, which meant beds had to be made up, airmen washed, shaved and properly dressed by that time. He advised that every detail, which we would be called, to attend would be classified as a parade and we must be formed up in readiness 10 minutes before the allotted time! He emphasised that all meals were also classified as a parade. To while away the time before the next parade, he advised that we get out all the pieces of webbing and attempt to put them together. This proved to be quite a complicated puzzle! As we struggled to piece the 30 odd pieces to make what appeared to resemble the harness for a packhorse. The Corporal informed us that the design of this equipment was the brain child of none other than Lady Astor, the M.P. for Plymouth and well known for her interests in the welfare of the serviceman at that time! By the time we were to "fall in outside, for tea" we were half way to completing the jigsaw but with considerable assistance from the Corporal; we did manage it by the time 'Lights out' was sounded at 22.30hrs. We all slept soundly that night, apart from the one or two who were still recovering from the vaccinations and were suffering from inflamed arms.
The next six weeks brought with it a heat wave which proved very exhausting, marching up and down the square and counting through the various commands-- "One pause two"-- etc., from dawn to dusk. Once a day, by way of a change, we paraded for P.T. (for a rest! we were told). One can never forget watching a squad of 'rookies' marching along in their brand new uniforms, field service caps resting on the right side of their heads. On the command "Eyes Left", thirty heads would move smartly to the left, leaving thirty field service caps still facing the front! At 10.00 hours there would be a break for 15 minutes to visit the NAAFI for a tea and a wad and again in the afternoon at 15.00hrs. Once during the morning and again in the afternoon we would be taken to a lecture, which enabled us to rest our weary limbs. We were taught how to handle a rifle and bayonet, how to challenge an enemy and what to do if he were not to halt as instructed. To demonstrate this action the Corporal told one of the lads to rehearse the movement with him. He, the Corporal approached the erk who was standing with his rifle and bayonet in the 'on Guard' position. The erk cried: "Halt who goes there", to which the Cpl. came to a halt with the tip of the bayonet just touching the top button of his tunic. "Advance and be recognised" cried the erk! "How the **** can I advance you idiot" replied the Corporal, "you are supposed to halt me when you see me! Not when I am near enough to disarm you!鈥� We saw the funny side of things most of the time.
Drilling on the square in full uniform in a heat wave is no pleasure; we were allowed to discard our tunics and parade 'in shirt sleeve order'. This meant shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow and our ties tucked into the front of our shirts. This was great but not so for rifle drill! We were told to fold our 'cap-comforters' (a form of woolly scarf which one could turn partly inside out to form a beret type hat.) into a pad and place under the shirt, on top of the left shoulder. This did help to a certain degree until it would slip out of place and the full weight of the rifle would be felt on the shoulder with quite an amount of discomfort. The heat from the sun was to cause several to 'pass out', one character fell forward and his head came in contact with the rifle of the man in front of him. He awoke with quite a headache.
One afternoon as we paraded the N.C.O. asked if anyone could 'ride a bike鈥�? Anything to get out of drill was many who had visions of a cycle ride around the countryside and stepped forward. The NCO picked out six formidable characters and said: "Right you six can go to the armoury and collect the ammo, we are going to the range to learn how to fire a rifle with live ammunition". This proved to be quite an interesting afternoon, I had never fired a gun and was very conscious of what I had heard of the kick that a rifle gives to the shoulder when fired, but after the first round, I felt quite happy and was pleasantly surprised that I could hit the target and make quite a good score. I was to enjoy trips to the range on future occasions and often collected the 'kitty' for the highest score. There were those who were under the impression that if one showed an aptitude to be a good marksman, he was quite likely to be transferred to the army and in consequence, there were many who had difficulty in finding the target!
It was the custom to select the oldest member of a squad to act as 'Senior Man' for each hut, he being responsible for the discipline. The senior man in our hut happened to be one of considerable maturity and had previously served in the RAF. In fact he had held the rank of Squadron Leader and had taught the late Prince of Wales and King George VI to fly. He had retired from his permanent commission due to ill health, a collapsed lung, he informed us. When war broke out he had volunteered to re-join but due to his health record, he was only offered a place in the 'other ranks' in which he was to serve in the Air Sea Rescue. He was a very modest gentleman and acted as a father figure to us youngsters and taught us quite a lot of what to expect in our new life. We looked upon him with great respect and were very amused when one morning, as we were rehearsing for the following day's C.O's inspection, a senior N.C.O., (who was a bit of a dragon, not much liked by many!) approached our Senior man and said: "Don" (that being his Surname), "I understand that you have served in the air force before", "Yes Sergeant" replied our Senior man, to which the Sergeant retorted: "You should know that to appear improperly dressed on parade is an offence, make sure you wear your decorations tomorrow for the C.O's inspection." The next morning we paraded, our senior man with a row of medals on his chest below his pilots 'Brevet'! When the Sergeant in question arrived to inspect us prior to the C.O. the look upon his face was something none of us would forget.
A book could be written on those six weeks at Bridgenorth, one of the highlights was just a few days after our arrival; the air raid warning was sounded for the first time in anger. It was late at night after lights out so we followed the instructions for such an event and we ran for an open field some hundred yards away in all forms of undress. We stood about for a while until a Corporal appeared and instructed us to return to our billets. This we did only to be met by a Sergeant who told us to go back again! Where upon we met once again the Corporal who greeted us with "Didn't I tell you to go back to your billets? Go on back and don't argue with an N.C.O." After a couple of return trips to the field the all clear was sounded and we returned to bed. Next day, orders were given for the occupants of each hut to dig a hole 12ft x 12ft x 6ft deep beside each hut, which would suffice as an air raid shelter. These were dug and a couple of days later it poured with rain and transposed the shelters into pools, not before several erks had fallen into the holes during the blackout! Orders were then issued to fill them in. We were very fortunate in having among the intake several famous musicians, namely, Stanley Black, Denny Dennis (real name 'Pountain') Sam Costa, Ray Ellington and several more stars from the Big Bands. Very pleasant evenings were to be held in the NAAFI, being entertained by these musicians who would put on spontaneous 'jam sessions' for our pleasure. In our hut we were honoured to have Frederick Grinkie, a famous violinist from Canada, who used to disappear on the odd occasion to broadcast from London on the radio. On more than one occasion we were to be lulled into sleep after lights out, to the strains of Brahms Lullaby played on his 'Strad' by this great musician.
We were kept so busy learning a new way of life that we were not so aware of what was going on in the outside world, until one day shortly after our arrival we were to witness quite an invasion of strangers arriving. Most dressed in strange uniforms and speaking in foreign tongues, amongst them were some RAF types, many Class'E' reservists dressed in uniforms different from what we had been issued with. Tunics with dog collars and breeches with puttees on the legs. They all looked very weary and bedraggled. We quickly learned that they had escaped from France and their only possessions being the clothes they stood up in. We were to learn later that most had survived the 'S.S. Lancastrian' that had been torpedoed coming out of St. Nazaire, with a terrible loss of life. This was to be our first introduction to the full picture of being at war which had a sobering effect on most of us as we realised that this was no game of soldiers that we were playing, this was serious. We were not alone in not appreciating the seriousness of the situation confronting the country during the month of June 1940, as very few of the public in general were really aware of the situation, thanks to the Ministry of Information who in their wisdom thought, quite rightly, that it was not in our interests to know of such things. It was not until one came face to face with evidence of what was happening did we understand the situation. Within a few weeks, most members of the public as well as the servicemen were to learn from hard experience what it would be like to be under fire, as the Luftwaffe opened the Blitz.
The six weeks 'square bashing' eventually came to an end, hopes that we might be given some leave to go and show off our uniforms to our folk at home were dashed when it was announced that we were to be posted directly to airfields around the country. We were to parade to be told of our postings and as each destination was called out there were hasty references made to pocket diaries to see if such a name was evident on the map section. 'Little Rissington'... Where is it? Several of us were asking! couldn't see it on the map! But the following morning on receiving our travelling instructions we got some clue. We (six of us) were to travel to Worcester by train, there to change to a train going to Oxford but to alight at a place called Kingham! Where on earth is Kingham? No one had ever heard of it, no town or city of that name was shown on any of our maps!
After getting 'clearance' from various sections, which included returning the 'pint china mug' in mint condition! to stores, we embarked on trucks to the station to board the train to Worcester where we had to wait for an hour or so for the connection. We left the station and wandered into the town in search of refreshments, as we passed a cottage an elderly lady came rushing out with a home cooked apple pie, thrusting it upon us, she said, "You boys are worth your weight in gold"! The morning newspapers had banner headlines: 'RAF shoot down 25 enemy bombers鈥�. She had read her paper. We thanked her but failed to tell her we were just 'rookies'! And so we continued our journey to 'Kingham'.

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