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15 October 2014
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RAF Wireless Operator Air Gunner Egypt (1) - Sign on and Training

by Tom Smith

Contributed byÌý
Tom Smith
People in story:Ìý
Thomas James (Tom) Smith
Location of story:Ìý
England
Background to story:Ìý
Royal Air Force
Article ID:Ìý
A3430595
Contributed on:Ìý
20 December 2004

Tom Smith and Baltimore in Shalufa Egypt

I left school when I was fourteen and went to work for the Hawker Aircraft Co at Kingston. At first it was Hawker Harts, a biplane used for training in Australia and then on to Hurricanes, I was there for three years all told. My education was pretty poor due to breaks spent on convalescent in various parts of the country because of indifferent health but I had set my heart on joining the RAF. With this in mind I purchased a couple of books, ‘Practical Maths for the ATC’ and ‘Cambridge Intermediate Maths’ priced at 2/3. I was in a reserved occupation but armed with these two books and a complete loss of memory when it came to my previous medical record I was accepted at the third attempt. My maths not being up to much I was offered the post of W/Op Air gunner and was asked what I thought of this offer, at the time I was young and barmy with it and would have been a window cleaner on Wellingtons so was full of the joys, Mum and Dad however were not so keen when I got home. In November 1942 I was sworn in and then waited until February 1943 to be called up.
The day came when I caught the tube train from Morden to St Johns Wood bound for A.C.R.C Viceroy Court. A few weeks ago I had a nostalgic visit for somewhere to go and there it was, just the same only minus the propellers over the door canopies. I stood and wondered at the time if the well heeled residents had any idea of the number of bodies that had occupied their apartments and gone on to all sorts of uncertain futures. We spent the first few weeks being bullied into marching in some sort of order, first to get our uniforms from the car showrooms that are still next to Lords cricket ground. We made frequent trips to Lords for various exams, tests and most important of all pay day. On our last visit we were marched to Addison Road station and on the train to I.T.W at Bridgnorth.
Here we spent the next eight weeks square bashing, struggling to reach eight words per minute in Morse code, cleaning the fire buckets and coal buckets so clean that nobody dare put anything in them. Our method for polishing the floor consisted of getting a spare bed blanket spread out on the floor then on top of this was placed two bed biscuits, as our mattresses were called, and this assembly was topped by a large wooden box. A willing body would lay, in the style of the Cresta Run, along the top whilst two fit fellows grabbed a corner of the blanket and went at speed up and down the floor after polish had been applied. This worked a treat until the braking system failed and the whole assembly careered on with its unfortunate rider until his head disappeared through the wall, knocking weatherboards loose from the outside of the hut. The boards were replaced and a tall locker was placed in front of the hole inside. If your hut was adjudged to be the cleanest then you got a pass out. As you can see a test of nerve came into the training system very early. Passing ten minutes of Morse at eight words a minute, some in code and some in plain language, plus some other odds and ends earnt us a trip to No 2 Radio School Yatesbury.
The school consisted of four wings and I was allocated to No 4 wing. There was the usual square bashing to and from school and on the parade ground tended by W/O Armstrong who terrified the life out of us. The main target was Morse at sixteen words per minute with no errors plus twelve words per minute with an Aldis lamp, aircraft recognition, pyrotechnics and photo flood. We used a most decrepit radio and transmitter, the 1082 and 1083, plus the TR9 for a while but then went on to find the ins and outs of the Marconi 1154 and 1155. We started our flying, four bods at a time using the De Havilland Dominie, taking off from the grass field adjoining the school and then solo in Percival Proctors. We passed out as sergeant wireless operators, putting up our brevet and tapes.
Then it was on to Hooton Park near Liverpool for radar training and use of the I.F.F unit (Identification Friend or Foe). We had a great time flying up and down the beach at Blackpool, homing onto the Tower from miles out at sea. We also practised landings using radar which could be interesting at times. We were using Avro Anson’s and Blackburn Bothers and it was in one of these that we were fired on by one of our own naval boats, they gave us the letter of the day and I thought that I was giving it back, only to discover when they didn’t stop firing, that our Aldis lamp was not functioning. So I sent off the colour of the day pretty smartish, I often wonder what they said on board. We used to home in on naval vessels quite often especially submarines as they gave a good return on the radar screen.
After this it was off to digs in Blackpool, hanging around for a week or two waiting for a convoy to the Middle East.

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