大象传媒

Locality:H.M.S.Scotia.SignalSchool.
(Butlin Holiday Camp.Heads of Ayr.Scotland.Feb.1944.

During one shore leave, Jimmy and me were nearly shot by our own R.A.F. Far-fetched? Not one little bit!

It was one Saturday and we had decided to have a run into Ayr. We were both broke and it wasn鈥檛 pay-day until the following Friday. We didn鈥檛 need money for grub; we could always get tea and a wad from the W.V.S.

The normal procedure was to leave the camp via the guard-house main gate which was above us, (our hut being at the bottom of the camp towards the sea.) walk further up the hill to the main road (A719) where we would catch the bus into town. Sometimes we'd get a lift.
This time however Jimmy decided why not take a short cut. Instead of going all the way up the hill, besides, we couldn鈥檛 go by bus and we'd have to try for a lift. If we went along the beach, we could be in Ayr in about a third of the time. He convinced me this was the easier way but there was a problem.

Right alongside and running the full length of our camp was R.A.F. property.
The whole area was a mock-up of a battlefield with trenches, dummy gun emplacements, blockhouses huts and even dummy figures complete with uniforms and steel helmets. The whole set-up looked like the real thing.
This was used by the R.A.F. in the training of Spitfire and Hurricane pilots carrying out strafing exercises. The planes would come in from the landward side at virtual treetop height down the hillside firing as they came. About half a mile offshore was a huge floating target and this was also shot at. The planes would then bank left or right and climb before coming back to start the run again. That morning we had been watching them doing just that but all was quite now. They were either at lunch or finished for the day.

After we had changed into our shore leave kit, we fell in for the 1p.m.' liberty boat.' After we'd passed the Officer of the Day's inspection and handed in our watch cards. (Watch cards are allocated Port or Starboard watch and are collected on return to ship from leave---- a means of keeping a register.) We then made our way to the perimeter fence on the pretence that we had to pick up something from our hut.
Just as we neared the fence, (Sod鈥檚 law,) intervened, a hurricane came hurtling down the hillside with cannon yammering.
' That's all we bloody need,' I said, ' I thought they'd finished for the day, come on Jimmy and we'll see if we can get a lift.'
Jimmy's watching the plane banking out over the sea; ' Hang about a bit Fred,' he called to me, ' I've an idea.'
The plane had circled back and had disappeared. About five minutes elapsed and it started a second run.
' Just as I thought,' said Jimmy,' here's what we'll do. Its taking about six minutes for him to do each run.' I nodded agreement.
' Well,' he said, 'as he passes over us, we get up and run like hell before he comes around again, we should do it bloody easy we'll have six minutes.'
The distance across the range was about 150 to 200 yards.
Keeping our eyes on the plane, we made our way under the wire and into the nearest trench.
We were committed

A few minutes passed and once again we heard him coming.' Right,' Jimmy shouted just as the shadow of the plane flashed above us and we were up and away like runners in a sprint race, yet once again ' Sod's law ' intervened.
Running and laughing at our audacity, we were horrified to hear the sound of another plane.
Looking to our right we saw another hurricane coming straight at us, as one we dived into a trench as his cannon opened up. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, bits of soil rattled down as we pressed ourselves into the side of the trench as he flew over us.

We peered over the lip of the trench at the rear of the plane as he hammered away at the floating target. All at once to the sound of a crack, a red flare shot up into the sky. The first plane coming in for another run just pulled up and banked away as a figure appeared from a hut at the other side of the range. (We were over two-thirds across it.)
It was an R.A.F officer, holding a Very's Pistol in his hand; he waved us both over to where he stood glowering at us; ' Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' he yelled,' I thought the bloody pair of you had copped it.'
' Sorry sir, we were only taking a short cut.' we both answered as one.
' A bloody short cut?' his face was puce.
' Across a bloody range with live bloody ammo flying all over the bloody place? More like a short cut to heaven, or hell, which is what you bloody lunatics will get when I report to your C.O.' he raved, ' I'll ring that bloody guard room of yours and they can come and collect you'.
We both knew that we were in a lot of trouble, and it must have shown on our faces.

' Anyway, where were you going to?' He asked me.
I told him that we were hoping to go to Ayr, and as we were both broke and unable to go by bus, we'd thought that we would take a chance on a short cut, adding that we were both sorry for the trouble we had caused.
It must have touched him a bit; two kids skint, but still wanting to get ashore because he told us that seeing we were across the range, we might as well carry on. We couldn鈥檛 believe our luck.' Thanks very much sir,' we both said at once and turned to go.
' Just a minute,' he said, ' Paybooks,' and our hearts sank as we turned back to him reaching for our books.' That's it,' I whispered to Jimmy, ' Shore leave's up the bloody spout!'
A matelot's pay book had to be carried at all times, as this was his identity card and must be produced when asked for by the shore patrol.

The officer took our books, read out our name and number and entered them in a notebook.
I鈥檒l remember these two names. Just imagine what would have happened if I'd had to write your parents to inform them that you'd both been shot! Not by the enemy but by our own bloody Hurricanes. Here's you paybooks, off you go and if I see either of you anywhere near this range again, I may take it into my head to shoot the pair of you myself. We shot off smartly!
All that day we worried about what would happen when we returned to camp. Would the guard, along with Commander Tackline be waiting to throw us into the ' brig?'

As it turned out, our fears did not materialise. When we walked into the guardroom only the duty quartermaster was there. No guards, no Tackline, we picked up our watch cards and left as quickly as we could. What had happened? We were so sure we would have been put on a charge. Had that R.A.F. officer had a change of heart? It hadn鈥檛 seemed like that, when last we'd seen him. Maybe he thought he'd scared us enough. Whatever it was, we would be eternally grateful to him, career-wise we both had clean sheets and could get on with the rest of our training which was fast approaching the final stage.

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