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WHAT IS AN AIRMAN ?
An airman is an earthly yet mysterious creature and includes many varied types of different nationalities, with no two ever alike !
They are found everywhere, in NAAFIs, messes, under and on top of and inside kites, inside guardrooms, in cinemas, on sports fields, on their beds, on trains, buses and out of bounds !
Airmen are of many colours (on arrival from UK) varying degrees of brown, pink, red and blue (with cold) and sometimes green with envy when their friends gain promotion.
An airman can be as wise as Solomon and as dim as a dumb bell, as quick as lightening or as slow as the long awaited boat.
He likes cigarettes, cards, Doris day, Marilyn Monroe pin ups and girls in general, pay parades, cartoon films, NAAFI breaks, football, test matches, motor bikes, gangster books, UK courses and letters from home.
He does not care much for writing letters, parades, guards, RAF Policemen, inspections and standing in queues.
No one is so early to bed or so late to rise and no one knows more about football and less about standing orders.
He is confident with 4 aces in his hand, impatient in a meal queue, authority with a propeller on his arm, dejection with an arrival chit and joy when it becomes a clearance chit.
No one else can stuff into one pocket, a battered packet of woodbines, a form 1250, several un- answered letters, a dilapidated comb, two blunt pencils, a few Marks, a knife, fork and spoon, a chit authorising a late or early meal and a copy of the latest Hank Janson publication !
You can always get him out of the guardroom, but you cannot move him from the NAAFI at half past ten on a pay night.
He is a composite of all the virtues and vices; a leave seeking, tea drinking individual in dirty overalls, gym kit or a blue uniform and his one ambition is always to be somewhere else !
But midway through the morning when your work is getting monotonous, you are half asleep and have only the shattered remnants of your dreams left, he can still bring a smile to your face and hope to your heart by bursting in to the office or workshop and shouting the magic words:
NAAFI UP !
Extracted from the RAF Wildenrath (2 TAF) station paper of 1954 and submitted by Robin Cheesman of 724 SU.
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2547455 AC2 Michael Bromfield.
We are indebted to Michael for the following extracts from the diary he kept while at Padgate and Hednesford - this is a unique record of the schedule that we all went through during induction and sqarebashing and we will put them on the www.rafhednesford and www.nsrafa.org websites.
If you wish to contact him ? Tel: 01782 630716.
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I started my National Service at the end of January 1952 at the age of 19.
Like many others, I was sent initially to Padgate for a short time (induction) before being posted to RAF Hednesford for basic training (squarebashing), which I completed on 1 April 1952.
From Hednesford I was sent to RAF Prestwick for trade training and then on to RAF Pembrey where I spent the rest of my National Service time.
While I was at Hednesford (No 11 School of Recruit Training) I managed to keep a diary. It's a fairly simple account of what we did on a day to day basis, but it may be of interest as many other young men at the time shared the same experiences. Part of the diary is printed out below, starting with Padgate - but omitting anything that I recorded after basic training was completed.
The diary has been copied as I wrote it, although it omits references to letters sent and received - usually from various family members who sometimes also sent postage stamps. My daughter thinks that it was a mistake to omit these references as, what seemed commonplace to me, would now be fairly unusual - telephone or e-mail would now be the way to keep in touch with friends and family. In 1952, we did things differently.
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Wednesday 30th January 1952
Train from Welshpool to report for National Service in RAF.
Joined by two others at Llanymynech and Oswestry. Lunch at Chester Rly Station. Met more lads at Warrington and were taken to RAF Padgate Camp in RAF bus. Allotted to Flight B5 and to a billet with 20 others etc. Meal at the NAAFI.
Thursday 31st
Up at 6 for 6.45 breakfast.
Bought at NAAFI: Brasso, padlock for locker, studs, duster & fastener for kit bag. Dinner at 12.
PM: X-ray and inspection of ears etc. doings with documents. Tea 4.45.
Evening: found wood & paper at rear of cookhouse for billet fire.
Friday 1st February
Fitted up with clothes & kit. PM: Lecture in cinema by 2 officers & the chaplain.
Identification photo taken. Hair cut. Boot polishing & stamped with number shoes & boots & brushes.
Saturday 2nd
Shining boots. 11.00am NAAFI PM: More shining of boots. Had a bath.
Sunday 3rd
Up at 7. Holy Communion at the Rest Room Chapel. (Chaplain:The Revd. R.S.Meadows).
Late breakfast with 17 others. We gave billet an extra clean. Letter writing.
5.30 Camp cinema Astra to see "Between Midnight and Dawn".
Monday 4th
We got stove to burn at last.
Collected from tailors' hangar our refitted uniforms. Stamped clothes with service number 2547455. Sent civvy clothes home.
PM: Kit inspection. Weekly pay 30/- plus 2/- travel concession for over 5hrs travelling.
At tea I met Ian Noble (Broadstairs, Kent), old school friend.
Evening: sewed numbers on remainder of clothes.
Tuesday 5th
Cookhouse fatigues 6.30 to 11.30 (knocking waste food off plates etc.)
PM: Helped on camp laundry van. Teatime, acted as emergency server for bread.
Wed 6th
From Padgate to RAF Hednesford nr Cannock, Staffs. At entrance to Warrington Station we heard of the Kings death. Refreshments on Warrington Stn, then special train to Rugeley through Crewe & Stafford.
By lorry to camp. Am now in Hut 55. Flight 28 "G" Sqadron. 4 Wing.
Our corporal (Williams) couldn't be any worse!
I am deputy senior man with Havinden (training chiropedist) as Senior Man.
Form filling for Cpl. NAAFI for oddments.
Thursday 7th
Lectures by CO, also on PT and one by Medical Officer.
NAAFI at 11.
PM: Inoculation & vaccination. Medical exam.
We all feel awful. Arm aching - and cleaning brass too!!!
Friday 8th
Sorted out in hangar to take part in April 1st Anniversary Parade (RAF Anniversary). Drew rifles from armoury.
PM: Lectures by Wing Commander McDunacliffe & by Flight Commander Williams.
Hat measurements taken. Cleaned billet.
Saturday 9th
Drill. NAAFI. Instruction on rifle.
PM: Inspection of inoculations/vaccinations. Had a bath after tea.
Trouble , so had to clean out the billet for failing to march to tea. NAAFI.
Sunday 10th
Up at7.45. 10am Church Parade. "Bulling" kit for rest of day.
Monday 11th
Began course for 1st April parade. Drill, NAAFI, PT.
PM: Lecture on Rights & Privileges. Drill. Cleaning all evening.
Tuesday 12th
Drill. PT. Lecture by the non-conformist Minister. PM: cross country run and a bath.
Evening: lights failed, so did brasses & blancoing by candlelight. Washed clothes.
Wed 13th
Snow. Was billet orderly (swept floor etc.) PT
PM: March-cum-run in BOOTS! Then shower. Evening: ironed clothes.
Thursday 14th
Snow. PT. Drill.NAAFI. Pay �1.
PM: Route march. Drill in the hangar. PT. Brass cleaning & blancoing as usual.
Friday 15th
Day of Kings funeral. Roy Rolf of our billet down with pneumonia.
Service in the square in commemoration of King George VI.
Lecture on trades. 2pm, 2mins silence for the late King.
PM: Route march. Bath.
Saturday 16th Bad throat. Rifle aiming etc. NAAFI. PT.
PM: Inspection of vaccinations/inoculations.
Had first pass out of camp so went to Cannock had tea and enquired of trains/buses for next weekend's 48 hour leave.
Sunday 17th
8am communion at Station church, Hednesford.
Nothing but "bulling". Letter writing.
Monday 18th
Drill. Maths test.
PM: Rifle drill in billet. Evening: cleaned out billet & usual "bull."
Tuesday 19th
Room orderly. PM: route march and shower after.
Evening: Usual cleaning. NAAFI.
Wed 20th
Ground Combat Training (rifle, aiming, firing). PM: drill. Lecture on History of the RAF.
Evening: billet cleaning. NAAFI.
Thursday 21st
Drill. PT. Pay 30/-.
PM: Lectures on trades & education in the Service and the composition of the RAF. Drill. Evening: usual "bulling".
Friday 22nd
Parade on the Square to hear sentence on Court Martial prisoner. PT.
Received passes and ration cards.
12 noon. 48 hour leave (wonderful). Bus to Cannock & to Wolverhampton. Train to Shrewsbury & then to Welshpool. With Llynclys boy to Salop & Aberystwyth boy to Welshpool. Arr home 4pm.
Saturday 23rd and Sunday 24th home on leave.
Arrived back at camp 10.30pm Sunday and had hot dogs and tea at gate.
Monday 25th
PT. Lecture on selection for trades in RAF. NAAFI.
Drill before the Station Commander.
PM: Lecture on overseas service. Drill.
Evening: cleaning billet etc. for Tuesdays usual inspection.
We did the border round the hut with bayonets. Scrubbed webbing.
Tuesday 26th
GCT rifle firing etc. drill. PM: in tailors' fitting room.
Evening: usual cleaning.
Wed 27th
Drill test. Lecture on trade facilities in RAF. Drill. NAAFI.
Paraded on the Square to hear that our Trooping of the colour on 1st April has been cancelled owing to the Kings death but we get extra day to next 48hrs leave!!!
Film on sex hygiene.
PM: ramble down to Hednesford. Cup of tea at Caf�. Others at the tailors shop.
Thursday 28th
Fatigue week. Am carting boxes from the armoury. NAAFI break as usual at 10.
Pay parade 11.15. �1. PM: packing bayonets & oiling rifles.
Had bath & washed socks & handkerchiefs.
Friday 29th
AM; cleaned out the bathhouse.
PM: cleaning & pressing before going to coke compound guard (We slept in the wing Guard Room)
5pm: Parade at Main Guard room. NAAFI 8pm.
On duty 10-12pm and 4-6am with another lad. Supper at 12.
Parade 8am again at Main Guard Room.
Saturday 1st March
AM: aptitude test. 12 cookhouse fatigues. 4 new boys in billet.
Pulled up about hair cut. NAAFI.
Sunday 2nd
Wrote letters. Stayed in billet all day. Bed early.
Monday 3rd
Billet orderly so collected the coke. Hair cut. NAAFI.
PM: Personal selection interviews. I chose Clerk Organization & Personnel, Operations Clerk, Clerk Movements surface, telephonist, fighter plotter.
"Bull" night for Tuesdays usual inspection.
Tuesday 4th
AM: Worked in cookhouse cleaning out the two dining halls & took down the curtains for washing.
PM: Served out dinner. Had two dinners myself. Filled weekends 72 hr pass.
Station library. Evening: Cleaning in the wing HQ.
Wed 5th
Boots back from repairers. Worked in the food factory. Cleaned out meat refrig. Washed floor. Cleaned windows etc. Padres Hour (lecture).
PM: Food factory again. In lorry taking fish & provisions round the camp messes.
2nd innoculation. Had a bath and washed "smalls."
Thursday 6th
Wet. All feeling bad after innoculations. Drill. NAAFI. Pay parade. 10/-.
PM: we spent (wet) pm in billet asking the corporal questions on the service.
Evening: Cleaning & pressing.
Friday 7th
Wet. Took our rifles to the armoury & fetched greatcoats from tailors shop.
Cleaned out ablutions. 12 noon 72 hour pass.
Saturday, Sunday & Monday on leave
Tuesday 11th
Drew our rifles from the armoury. Drill. NAAFI. PT.
PM: drill. Padre. Film on flying. Educational lecture on the press.
Evening: Usual cleaning & pressing.
Wed 12th
GCT. Range cards & firing discipline. NAAFI. Drill.
PM: Ten of us went in a bus to RAF Stafford camp to see rugby match (Pleasant way of spending a lazy afternoon). Usual cleaning at night.
Thursday 13th
C.O.s parade on square. NAAFI. Drill. Lecture on the fitting of gas respirators.
Pay parade 10/-. PM: Lecture on first aid. Drill. Had bath.
Friday 14th
PT. NAAFI. Two educational lectures on the Resources, power and forces of Russia. And on the Western powers.
PM: Our photos taken in groups on the march. We collected our best blue uniforms from the tailors.
Saturday 15th
PT. Drill. NAAFI. Lecture on the RAF during the war.
PM: Stayed in billet rest of the day & kept fires going while most of the others went out.
Sunday 16th
9.30 church. Letter writing. Evening: Made toast over the stove.
Monday 17th
Lectures on : gas equipment; formation of RAF; and rights & Priviledges. Drill. PT.
GCT - the crawls & the Bren gun. Bull night. Working on plots outside billet.
Tuesday 18th
Lecture on different gasses. Hair cut. PT. Drill. PM football.
Evening: working on plots outside billets.
Wed 19th
PT. Padres Hour. Lecture on Spain and films about public opinion and oil.
PM: Most lads went to Wolverhampton to see the Army beat RAF at football.
Had bath & got cleaning done.
Thursday 20th
AM Shooting on the range. Pay 10/-.
PM: working on plots around the billets & drill.
Friday 21st
Filling ammunition clips at the range & unloaded railway sleepers.
Drill for rest of day. Had photos which were taken last week 4/-.
Saturday 22nd
Lecture on south East Asia & 2 films. Drill. 36 hour pass.
Sunday on leave.
Monday 24th
GCT lectures on stalking. NAAFI break. Drill. PM: in sports stores.
Tuesday 25th
Lecture on likelihood of war with Russia, also on Middle East.
Assault course. PM: drill in the wet.
Evening: General Service knowledge test and a few boys to be posted overseas.
Wed 26th
Drill. PT. Padres Hour. PM: drill and GCT test.
Evening: extra bulling for tomorrows COs parade & drill test. Am in running for best recruit with 10 others.
Thursday 27th
Very cold. COs parade. Drill test. Pay �1. PM: PT & drill.
Tea at 3 Wing Mess while ours (4 Wing) is under repair. Issued with gas masks.
Pressed uniforms while others had pass out party in the NAAFI.
Friday 28th
Bitterly cold with wind and snow. PT. Drill and in billet for first 2 periods.
PM: Taken up to the (tear) gas chamber but key was missing so we returned respirators. Hair cut ready for pass our parade.
Evening: Cyril Davies (the laugh of the flight) dressed up as a corporal and fooled some new recruits!!!
Saturday 29th
Had a cold time 8 - 11 clearing rubbish near the hangars.
Stayed in rest of day and some of the others went by coach to Trentham Gardens, Stoke-on-Trent, some went to Cannock and they returned tipsy and they tipped us out of bed.
Sunday 30th
Snow in drifts. 6pm Evensong in the station church
Monday 31st
Slushy. Drill. PT. Pay & leave money �3.
PM: Free from infection (FFI) medical inspection. PT. Pass out test. Drill.
Evening Preparations for the Pass Out Parade. Had a meal and cider at the NAAFI.
Tuesday 1st April
Parade rehearsal. Sing-song in the NAAFI.
Informed I am to be posted on 16th April to Prestwick in Ayrshire (Air Traffic Control Centre near the airport).
Dad and Auntie Doll came to see me Pass Out & then to speeches etc in camp cinema. Returned rifles to armoury.
To Edgmond. Arrived home evening 2nd April.
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John Kent and Pat Honey went through this same experience at Hednesford starting on 5th September 1952 and leaving on November 5th.
Hut 112. 4 Flt. "A" Sqd. 1 Wing.
Now together again after all this time and both agree it did us no harm !
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A poem heard at the time went:
Join the Air Force. Learn a trade.
Adventure, travel and well paid
These are the things you're fed upon
And like a sucker you sign on.
But when they've got you in their grip
Where are those smiles, that comradeship,
Where are those friendly helpful types
And who's the B... d with three stripes
With brasses bulled to bright perfection
Pay parades and kit inspections.........
The verses go on and on, so if anyone knows the rest please get in touch.
They were rough days and worse nights but like most National Servicemen we persevered and did our bit WE DID GO !
Regards Ray Taylor.
We would like to complete this ditty - can anyone help please ! PGH webmaster.
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RAF Hednesford, (No 11 School of Recruit Training).
The very name conjures up visions of unspeakable horrors...shaving in cold water at 6 o'clock on dark, frosty mornings in unlit ablution blocks. "Dig those heels in...Keep in step...Left, right, left right...Swing those arms...Get them up, get them up...Shoulder height, shoulder height...Left right, left right!" On and on it went, day after day for nine weeks, interspersed with kit inspections, billet inspections, rifle inspections, webbing inspections, was there no end to it? Didn't we just love those corporal drill instructors, our beloved DI's, who moved heaven and earth to mould us into a smart, disciplined, marching unit?
Remember their hot breath on your neck and the subsequent snarl, "Am I hurting you, I should be, I'm standing on your bleeding hair...get a hair-cut!" How about the order to fix bayonets when you couldn't feel your fingers, never mind the bayonet?
But, there was always the NAAFI at the end of the day: a haven of comfort with real, live, young ladies to serve those delicious bangers, chips and beans, and oh yes, rock buns...if you had any money left from that whopping 28/6d, that is! Remember 'coppering up' with your mate and sharing a plate of chips?
One thing I remember about Hednesford with fondness was the snack van that pulled up outside the camp main gate every night. I still remember the delicious coffee and hot dogs we queued up for at that van, to take back to the billet.
Then it was a night of 'spit and polish' boots, blanco webbing, polish brasses, clean rifles, and oh yes, polish the floor until it shone, mirror-like. After that, it was a case of, "Watch the floor," to any one entering the billet and, "use the felt pads or take your boots off!"
On and on it went for weeks until suddenly, we were marching in step, backs were straight, rifles correctly sloped, we halted as one and obeyed drill commands as they were meant to be obeyed. Those hated DI's had once again miraculously turned their latest intake of raw recruits into a cohesive, disciplined unit...they had turned us into airmen. Anon.
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The 'Band' at WEST KIRBY.
Tony Stack-Hawkley
"We arrived by train at West Kirby from RAF Cardington, about one hundred of us with large blue bonnets on our heads. We assembled in a village, the name of which after fifty years, I've forgotten. We were met by a spotty-faced Pilot Officer whose manner I have not forgotten. He with the help of loud, rasping drill instructors, cobbled us into a rough approximation of a fighting machine. This was quite difficult as the DI's looked smart with their immaculate, white webbing belts glittering with gold and knife-edge creases in their trousers. Their bulbous boots had a mirror-like finish and shone in the cold, Autumn afternoon. In dire contrast, we had ill-fitting, creased uniforms and blue 'plates' on our heads. We looked like the teenagers we were.
"Any of you play musical instruments," the boy Pilot Officer chirped shrilly?
About ten of us foolish recruits confessed that we did indeed play a musical instrument.
"Right, you are the band," he piped triumphantly. "You, and you are the drummers, go to the head of the flight," he waved vaguely up the road. He was quite excited.
"The rest of you are trumpeters," he went on, then as an afterthought, He pointed to Taffy. "You, the big one, you are to play the bass drum, stand in the middle of the band and pick up the drum." Taffy, with great solemnity, picked up his imaginary drum and strapped it onto his big chest. The DI's were now very conspicuous by their absence, whilst the boy officer strode to the front of his 'band' and piped, "891 intake, by the centre, quick march."
The villagers gazed at us in amazement as we picked up our imaginary instruments and marched off. The SP on the gate came to attention and solemnly saluted the intrepid boy Pilot Officer, his 'band' and the new intake, as we marched through the gates of RAF West Kirby, with the trumpeters 'toot tooting', the drummers 'drum drumming' and the bass drummer hitting his imaginary bass drum and shouting at the top of his voice in a strong Welsh accent, "Boom, boom, boom, you bastard."
Then there were 'bull nights'.
There is always one in any flight. Our's came from Skegness. A nice young lad and as thick as three bricks. It was Friday evening, 'Domestic Evening' and we, the airmen, were busy sweeping the floor, cleaning the windows and generally 'bulling-up' the billet. His head poked out of the ablutions, "As anybody cleaned the revolutions," he shouted, then ducked as brooms, felt walking pads, buckets and other missiles showered him.
That Time in Kenya?
I was in Kenya, which used to be called Keenya, but somehow one day got changed to Ken-ya. We ten airmen were on patrol with the army Greenjackets. This was not that unusual. It seemed that the army had run out of soldiers and we were quickly reminded that we were first, highly trained fighting serviceman and second, skilled tradesmen in the Royal Air Force. So there we were, in the White Highlands in darkest Africa, chasing the Mau Mau for our Queen. We were not used to patrols, our longest walks normally being to the NAAFI for egg and chips, we were airmen, not 'squaddies'. We were not used to marching. It didn't really matter as it happened, because we, well we walked everywhere, quite casually really, not at all like on the movies, like when Errol Flynn saved the British Empire and from memory, I think the United States too, shooting from the hip and that.
We had our own officer too, yes you guessed it, a pimply-faced Pilot Officer about twelve. He was quite useless. He carried a swagger stick, yes, a swagger stick, until one of the airmen carefully lost it for him. We stood on top of a hill looking at an immense valley that we had dropped leaflets on from an old World War Two Lancaster. The leaflets advised the Mau Mau to give themselves up and be incarcerated in a military concentration camp, or maybe to be hanged.
We all stood on top of the hill like schoolkids around teacher. The Pilot Officer, drawing himself up to his five foot six, reached for his loud hailer, a prized possession that he had been longing to use and putting it to his lips, he shouted in his best Oxford accent that we all hated.
"Give yourselves up, there's good chaps, you will all be well-treated and be given food and shelter."
From across the beautiful valley with Mount Kilimanjaro in the background, through another loud hailer, came the casual reply,
"Get stuffed white man."
We all collapsed in helpless laughter as the boy Pilot Officer choked and changed colour to bright red. We all got the East African Campaign medal for that. Life's funny, isn't it?
Washing the 'irons'?
Does anyone remember the dirty, swilling, boiling water outside the Airmen's Mess where we washed our 'irons' (knife, fork, spoon and mug)? I dropped mine into that seething cauldron once. I had to go back to the Mess later in the morning to retrieve them and be bollocked by the Mess Sgt. I was amazed to note that they changed the water. I thought that muddy, stinking mass was never changed!
Sick Parade
When at RAF Weeton, I went to Blackpool by myself to see Doris Day in 'April in Paris'.I wasn't feeling too good but I went anyway. I got progressively worse and went back to camp to sleep in the draughty hut that was called a billet.
The next day, after a restless night, I knew that I had the flu bad. I got my small pack together, including toiletries and a change of underclothes and went on 'sick parade'.
I stood in the pouring rain with other sufferers. I was swaying a little as my temperature soared. 'Sick Parade' is a service ritual that assumes that the serviceman is a malingerer and is dodging work. We stood in the pouring rain for half an hour waiting for the Medical Officer. We all got soaked and those of us with the flu got progressively worse.
He arrived in a staff car and putting up his umbrella ran inside to dodge the rain. He gave us a wobbly salute and his hand hit his brolly.
After he had had his coffee, he started his surgery. My very high temperature ensured that I was immediately sent to the base hospital where I was admitted and got the best of treatment.
Later, in bed and still not feeling too well, one of the RAF nurses asked me if I wanted any sugar in my coffee. I said, "No thanks," and she tossed her head and flounced off.
The bloke in the next bed said I was crazy to refuse an invitation for her to get into bed with me after 'lights out'. It was the code you see. I didn't know the code!
Tony Stack-Hawkley
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