大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by a volunteer from the GRM Action Desk on behalf Catriona Watson, Alec's granddaughter, and has been added to the site with her permission. Catriona fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Content to leave the war to the Allied Armies and being in an occupied occupation, I did not think I could do much about it until my brother Joe, a W/OP/AG on Blenheims was killed in 1940. I then developed a hatred of Hitler and the Germans. How do you volunteer when in a reserved occupation? I applied at the recruiting office in Sheffield three times before I was accepted and then only when I threatened to give up my job. I was told to sell my motor bike and prepare for call up. This was a turning point in the war. With John Wayne in the Pacific, Errol Flynn in Burma, Kirk Douglas in the Middle East and me in Europe how could we lose?

I was told to report to Sheffield with about twenty other bodies, where I was put in charge of the party to take them to Padgate. This posed a problem; coming from the small village of Dinnington outside Sheffield which did not boast a railway station. At 20 years of age, I had never been on a train. However, overcoming all problems we arrived at Padgate safely where we were given another medical and sworn in. I was given the exalted rank of AC2. After swearing in, I was told that I was to be a Pilot, sent down to Babbacombe to be kitted out and then posted to Newquay for Initial Training. About the only thing I remember about Babbacombe was the smell. A whale was washed up on the beach and lay there for four weeks.

Newquay consisted of PT, Drill, use of weapons (rifle machine gun) courses in navigation, wireless operating, aircraft recognition, meteorology (everyone was given a donkey barometer 鈥� a donkey painted on a piece of wood with string for a tail, if dry 鈥� fine, if wet 鈥� raining) and gunnery - all skills needed by a pilot as Captain of an aircraft.

We had two PT instructors, Sgt Len Harvey and Sgt Jimmy Wild. They were both retired boxers, so naturally I took up boxing. This proved to be all too easy when matched against someone my own height. They must have thought I had potential as I was entered for the Area Championships where I had to be weighed. Imagine my surprise on climbing into the ring to find that my opponent was 6ft.4in. tall with a reach about 12in. longer than mine. I needed a stepladder to reach his chin. I could hardly get near him so I took a beating and gave up boxing. I prayed that if I ever came across Hitler he would not be 6ft.4in.

I duly passed the Initial Training course, promoted to LAC and posted to Hatfields in Hertfordshire to begin Elementary Flying Training. I was now on my way to defeating Hitler. After about 10 hours flying training, mainly what we called 鈥渃ircuits and bumps鈥� i.e. taking off, flying round the aerodrome and landing again, the instructor got out and said 鈥淵ou鈥檙e on your own鈥�. With a feeling near to panic, I duly took off, did a circuit of the aerodrome and duly landed without any undue incident. This was not so for my pal. At the time, we were at Hatfield and Havillands were testing a new aeroplane (you have probably heard of the Mosquito) which was a little faster than the Tiger Moth. Anyway, my pal had the misfortune to take off just before a Mosquito. He was about 30 ft in the air when the Mosquito roared past him. Caught in the slipstream, he executed a perfect slow roll before regaining control and completing his circuit and landing looking very pale faced when he climbed out of the cockpit.

The rest of the course consisted mainly of becoming competent pilots of a Tiger Moth, aerobatics and how to handle emergencies such as spinning, stalling etc.

I remember my first slow roll well. My instructor asked if my straps were tight. He then explained the routine and proceeded with the demonstration. All went well until we were upside down, when I discovered my straps were not tight enough, and I was hanging about nine inches from the seat unable to reach the rudder. Not wishing to leave the aircraft, which had no cover over the cockpit, I let go of the joystick, grabbed the sides of the cockpit then waited until I was the right way up and back in the seat. I then really tightened the straps, asked for a further demonstration, then did one myself. Nothing of note happened during the rest of the course and I was passed out as a competent pilot of the Tiger Moth.

We were then informed that we were going to Canada to do our Secondary Flying Training, given a week鈥檚 leave, then sent to Greenock to catch a boat. We were put on a Belgian boat. Sleeping quarters were not all that could be desired, about 50 hammocks where there would normally have been about 15 bunk beds. An opening in the corner led to the toilets, with no doors. Then we went for our first meal afloat and discovered that the ship had been provisioned in South Africa. All the food had been chlorinated and chlorine was all that we could taste. So off to the galley to buy some tinned food but that was no better. I bought some very cheap duty free cigarettes called 鈥淐ape to Cairo鈥�. These were just as bad so overboard they went.

At reveille next morning, we awoke to the most awful smell. Imagine the smell from 50 sweating bodies along with the smell from the toilets. We washed and shaved as quickly as possible then went up on deck for some fresh air. When the breakfast bell went, we started to go down but the smell of chlorinated porridge sent most of us back up again feeling very seasick. It took me 24 hours to recover and accept the conditions.

Luckily for us, about two days later we were scurrying for Iceland and safety. The Bismarck had been reported to have escaped and was heading for the Atlantic Ocean. We landed at Reykjavik and spent a fortnight there until the Bismarck had been sunk. Our stay there was not too happy. We were billeted in huts with no beds, had to wash and shave in a stream and spent the day digging trenches sustained by iron rations (consisting of two what I can only describe as 2in. sq. dog biscuits and a lump of cheese or a tin of bully beef and a cup of char). In the evenings we would walk to the hot springs about a mile away and bathe or walk into Reykjav铆k for a meal. Do not imagine that the Icelanders were friendly (despite the newsreels to the contrary). Apparently, the Mayor and his entourage were at the harbour to welcome the Germans when they arrived and were very peeved when they found their mistake. In the cafes, the waitresses had great difficulty understanding English when we ordered a meal but none whatsoever when presenting the bill.

We discovered later that the trench we were digging was to pipe water from the hot springs to provide central heating; they must have been an ungrateful lot. We were not sorry when the time came to say goodbye to Iceland (the Bismarck had been sunk) and even happier to discover that the Belgian boat had gone without us and we were put on board a merchant cruiser whose first job was to watch over the convoy and, not as we would have preferred, to watch over us. However, the journey to Canada was relatively uneventful except for one or two U-boat scares when regardless of the valuable cargo he was carrying (i.e. ME), and much to my dismay, we would leave the convoy to where the U-boat was thought to be, drop a few depth charges and then return to the convoy much to my relief. It was rumoured that the skipper was 鈥済ong happy鈥� and wanted a V.C., although on reflection, he must have only been carrying out orders.

We duly arrived at Halifax in Nova Scotia to a great welcome by its citizens and put in billets for the night. We were given no time to explore Halifax as next morning after breakfast we were out on board a train where we spent the next three days and nights, our destination being Penhold Airfield some 3000 miles away, about halfway between Calgary and Edmonton in the province of Alberta. We stopped only once each day when we were marched around to stretch our legs. At each place we stopped, we were given a tremendous welcome with gifts of fruit, cigarettes and chocolate.

When we arrived at Penhold Secondary Flying Training Unit, we found we were the first intake of trainee pilots. The instructors, mechanics, etc. arrived a month earlier so everything was ready to make an immediate start on training. SFT was pretty much the same as EFTS except that we were now flying a twin engine aircraft known as the Airspeed Oxford. They were fitted with two Cheetah X engines, which had pitch control on the propellers, mixture control on the fuel, flaps and engine boost control (not on the Tiger Moth). Aerobatics were out and emergency drill was not carried out below 6,000 ft. It would take that height to recover from a spin or stall.

We had had no serious accidents at Elementary Flying training but here we lost three pilots in flying accidents and a few who were deemed unsuitable were taken off the course. The rest of us duly finished the course, given a test by the Chief Flying Instructor and passed as capable pilots, given our wings and promoted to Sergeant. This posed a problem for the Sgt鈥檚 Mess could not cope with about seventy new sergeants. So we were given a fortnight鈥檚 leave, a train pass, and told to get to Halifax in time to catch the boat back to England.

I feel here I must say something about the hospitality of the Canadians. Every Saturday we were stood down after lunch and made our way to the nearest town , Red Deer City, with a population of about three thousand but more life than most cities five times its size. As we left the aerodrome, there would be a queue of cars waiting. The front car would draw up, ask where you were going, tell us to hop in. From then on until you were deposited back at the aerodrome, you were not allowed to pay for anything, not even smoke your own cigarettes.

On the lighter side, four of us were picked up by a girl about eighteen to be taken to the home of her parents. On the way, we had to travel down a very steep hill into the town, about a mile long. The speed began to build up and about hafway down we were doing about seventy to eighty when she turned to me and said 鈥淗ow do you make a car go slow downhill. I only bought it this morning and I have not driven it before鈥�. I reached over, switched the ignition off, pushed her foot off the accelerator, put my foot on the brake and held the steering wheel until we stopped. We then swopped seats and I drove for the rest of the day. It took us about three days to say goodbye to all the friends we had made. The owner of a caf茅 where we had been in the habit of eating gave the four of us a seven course meal before we left. Our regular meal there had been T-bone steak, egg, chips and peas.

We eventually arrived in Montreal about 9.00 pm on Christmas Eve, almost flat broke and in no position to use the permits we had been given for the USA. We decided to spend the night in the YMCA and board a train for Halifax the next morning. After booking in, the counter clerk asked what we were doing tomorrow. Explaining our cash position, we said we intended to travel on to Halifax whereupon he produced a slip of paper from under the counter saying 鈥淕o to this address, you will be OK鈥�. Next morning, Christmas Day, he put us on a tram to the suburb of Lachine. When we got off the tram there was a family waiting who treated us like heroes. They took us into their home and gave us a wonderful Christmas dinner. They even had presents under the tree for us. They had friends in for the evening who in turn asked us to visit and spend a day with them. We did, only leaving Montreal on the last train to get us to Halifax in time, loaded with cigarettes, fruit, sweets and sandwiches. The original family鈥檚 parents had emigrated from Barnsley and, when they discovered that I was a Yorkshire man, they insisted I sing On Ilkley Moor in dialect, and this was the only repayment we were able to make in each of the homes we visited.

Before I leave Penhold, I would like to mention a series of cartoons posted on the walls of the rest room for pilots. They were there to serve as a warning of mistakes they could make, which would be fatal. They were all headed with the words 鈥淭HIS IS GOING TO CURE ME COMPLETELY鈥�. Attempting to turn before I have reached a safe height 鈥� showing an aircraft with its wing dug in the ground.

Pushing the stick forward just after landing 鈥� showing an aircraft with its nose dug in the ground.
The last one was the one which I think impressed me most. It just said 鈥楾HIS IS GOING TO CURE ME COMPLETELY鈥� 鈥� No words, just a picture of an airman pushing a pram.

We were soon out aboard a ship for Britain. Nothing untoward happened on the return journey apart from a tremendous storm with waves twice the size of a two storey house crashing over the bows. We were glad to stay below until it subsided.

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