大象传媒

My father,Noel Taylor was a lad of 14 when the war started. He lived in Whelley, Wigan, with his parents Jim and Sarah Taylor and brothers Fred, Jim and Alan and attended Wigan Grammar School.
Early experiences included being an ARP Messenger and fire watching from the roof of Wigan Town Hall.
Like most boys, Noel was keen to join up and acquired an introduction to military culture through membership of the Wigan and District Boy's Brigade and the Air Training Corps. In the Boy's Brigade, he rose from Corporal, through Sergeant to Drum Major, swinging and throwing the mace high in the air on parades, to impress the watching girls.

Noel dreamed of being a Fleet Air Arm pilot, flying Fairey Swordfish off a carrier, and at age 17 volunteered for the Fleet Air Arm "Y" Scheme. However, he failed the medical at Dover Street, in Manchester, due to less than perfect eyesight. He continued to pursue a flying career, attending RAF Padgate in Lancashire, and studying in his spare time. During lunchtimes, he would study Aircraft Mathematics with one of his friends from Wigan Council's Borough Engineer's Department, Bill Aspey, who went on to become a pilot officer in the RAF but unfortunately was reported missing in 1944.

Eventually, unable to get into the RAF as a pilot or aircrew, Noel joined the Royal Navy as a telegraphist. Initial training was at HMS Royal Arthur, formerly Butlins Camp at Skegness. Then, in July 1943, he was posted to HMS Shrapnell in London's Holloway road. He was billeted with a Mrs Kingston, along with several other young sailors, including Johnny Gunn.
In December 1943 he moved to Ayrshire for more wireless and coding training and exams.
Noel passed out as an Ordinary Telegraphist and was posted to Plymouth to await his draft. There, the RN signals occupied another former holiday camp. He hoped to be drafted to America but this wasn't to be.

For some obscure reason, Noel volunteered for a unit called "PARTY FUNSHORE", which he discovered to be a euphemism standing for "foreign and unknown shores". This led to a posting to the Portsmouth Signal School at Petersfield. It had been the home of a lady who had lost her own son in the Navy and had donated it to the service.

This training was clearly leading up to D-Day, and that is another story (See "From D-Day to Germany with the Commandos").

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