大象传媒

I joined the R.A.F on 2.12.40 hoping to join the 'fast sea-rescue boats' but there was not much happening for them yet so I became a Rigger (aircraft body maintenance and hydraulic systems which control brakes, flaps, wheels and bomb bays) First move was to Blackpool in private 'digs' - about 10 of us in our digs, marching mainly to Blackpool Tower to have a health inspection and several jabs in the arm which knocked you for six for two days and writing home was impossible. Meals were very good at the digs, Lancashire hotpot etc. Thanks Blackpool
Next move was to Wilmslow in Cheshire, R.A.F camp where the first story begins.
Two weeks of marching sessions and rifle practice completed, and two more weeks to go, we asked permission to go into town, about one mile, nearly all downhill. It was 7pm and we had to be back by 9pm for night inspection by an Officer. We were having a beer and a good laugh in the pub, eight of us, when one of our group said it鈥檚 nearly five to nine!' Then it was organised panic! We ran all the way uphill but we were five minutes late and were told to report to the Sergeant in the morning.
At nine in the morning the eight of us were marched by a corporal to the office of the warrant officer who we know to be very, very strict on our marching sessions. On one particular session, he halted the session and because one lad (a parsons son) could not march properly, he said 鈥渨hat is that thing over there, come here to me. What are you doing? I could make water drop on you from a great height鈥� (This is the clean version slightly altered by me)
We were certain we would get Jankers (7 days in the cookhouse at night after a days work, peeling potatoes) I was marched in first and the other lads were sat down a corridor. The corporal said, 鈥淪tand to attention鈥� and then 鈥淪tand easy鈥� The corporal marched away and I was alone with the Officer. I was never a panicky sort so I knew whatever was the punishment you have to get on with it. The Officer said, 鈥淲here do you live?鈥� 鈥淏oston, Lincolnshire鈥� I replied, 鈥淲ere you born there?鈥� 鈥淣o sir鈥� I replied. 鈥淲here were you born?鈥� 鈥淲alls end鈥� I said "near Newcastle鈥�

My mother was a tailoress working in London and my father was repairing a submarine in London Docks. They met and later married in Walls end. My father, when I was two years old was appointed chief shipwright for Boston Dock and they moved to Boston where my mother was born and lived. The officer said he was born and lived in Jesmond Dean, very near to Walls end.
The Officers next move was unbelievable and I thought was the real way to catch me, and the talk was nothing. He said, 鈥淲ill you have a drink?鈥� My mind was spinning: if I say yes, he has got me, and if I say no he might think that is unsociable, so quickly I decided to say nothing at all. A few seconds silence and then very firmly he said, 鈥滻 spoke to you, will you have a drink?鈥�
Quickly I thought this time he seems annoyed because I didn't say yes, on the other hand saying no would annoy him more and it could be 7 days Jankers anyway but it would be more polite to say yes. He poured some whisky in a glass and handed me it and he had one as well. I don't like whisky but I finished it and said 鈥渢hank you sir, very good of you鈥� He said 鈥� I will get the corporal in鈥� He shouts 鈥淐orporal鈥� and the corporal arrived, and to my delight, the Officer said 鈥渃ase dismissed corporal鈥� and I said 鈥渢hank you very much sir鈥�
The corporal said, 鈥淟eft turn, quick march鈥� and we were away and we passed my mates in the corridor looking very miserable. They said 鈥渉ow did you get on, Grig鈥�? I said 鈥渉e gave me a whisky and said case dismissed鈥� and they said ***
I cannot really tell you what they said it was just forces language! I cannot remember seeing the lads after, we lived in separate billets anyway. The corporal would tell them that the case was dismissed. I think the Officer could have been a very lonely man, but to us he was a 鈥渂lessing鈥�
Jim Grigor.

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