|
1): 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.
******************
2): 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.
*****************
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.
*****************
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.
******************
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 !
****************************************************************
3): 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.
*******************************************
4): The 'Band' at WEST KIRBY by 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
*************************
THE FOUNDING OF 751 SIGNALS UNIT CYPRUS 1955.
By x 4135842 Willoughby Burgess. Mech. Eng.
Shortly after returning to Egypt and RAF Abyad in the canalzone from UK leave, I was posted to Cyprus on active service. Arriving at RAF Nicosia, I was given a room with all facilities but no explanation as to why I was there. After a good night's sleep and an excellent breakfast a call came to report outside where I was confronted by about 85 airmen and a row of vehicles.
The Commanding Officer was Flt Lt. Taylor. In addition there was one sergeant and three Corporals, (me being one of them) and various other ranks. The briefest of instructions were given:- The NCO's were given rifles and ammunition and allocated to certain vehicles; the CO was to be in a Land Rover or Jeep and the rest were to be passengers in or on the other vehicles. The order "Follow me" was given, the vehicles formed a convoy and off we set to who knew where ?.
After about forty miles the convoy was halted outside a roadside caf� whose car park was not adequate causing us to use the roadside verges. The few locals in the caf� were sullen to say the least and seemed to resent our presence; needless to say we did not stay long but left them to their tiny glasses of extremely strong coffee and glasses of water.
Looking across at the main convoy I was amazed to see one erk casually smoking a cigarette whilst sitting atop a fortygallon drum obviously containing fuel of some sort and surrounded by other forty gallon drums! The air turned blue whilst he was suitably admonished. The convoy re-formed and the "Follow me" order given again. Aware of the attitude of the locals in the caf� we rifle bearers were noticeably more alert.
About forty miles further on we arrived in the vicinity of Limasol where Fl.Lt.Taylor directed us to turn right off the main road onto a smaller one which was uphill. It became steeper and steeper causing the vehicles to go slower and slower thus increasing the tension. I had noticed that the two largest vehicles were mobile radar units and eventually things began to click into place! The road became even steeper as we drove towards Pano Kivides and only later did we realise we were driving up Mount Troodos.
From my position in the convoy, I could not see the lead vehicle so I was surprised when we were directed to turn left off the road and into scrubland bumping and boring along well away and out of sight of the road. Once more we came to a halt on a fairly level piece of land and our CO informed us that this was IT and would be known as 751 Signals Unit (later it would be known as Cape Greco). We were first of all to set up sufficient tents to shelter and sleep all of us. Knowing that EOKA were active we slept with loaded rifles to hand. Not a good night's sleep.
The following day was spent erecting tents for storage, and the positioning of all the service vehicles except the radar heads. Being the only Mech. Eng. in the party, I soon learned that I was to be responsible for the 3 x 50Kva mobile generator units which would supply the unit with electricity both to power the radar units, the radar ops room and the radio station ops room as well as providing a single lamp in each tent.
The water supply was a bowser with slatted side rails and taps above enamel bowls for all to stand alongside each other to do the necessary. Needless to say after days of hard graft (everyone seemed to muck in) something more sophisticated was needed. Luckily someone discovered a supply of fresh clean spring water some distance below camp site level. A wooden plug was discovered protruding from a vertical rock face below which was a stone trough containing water. On removing the plug a good supply of water poured forth. Amongst the stores was a 'tin bath' which was duly carried down the track leading to the spring. Groups of 2 3 or 4 airmen took it in turns to take the bath and have a jolly good clean up which was greatly appreciated by all. Sadly it all came to an end when one particular party who whilst enjoying a splash were confronted by a herd of goats needing a drink and their goat herd. The figure swathed in black from head to toe was, yes you've guessed it, a woman!! Meeting 3 naked airmen was not appropriate and communication from the local hierarchy demanded that we stop the practice of alfresco bathing. From then on better water supplies were provided, a field kitchen was set up, a large mess tent erected and toilet facilities were constructed over a long deep trench.
Come the time to get to grips sighting the radar heads. Much shunting forward and backward with the largest unit resulted in failure because the head could not swivel without hitting at least two small trees. A saw was produced, the trees were cut down and the path was cleared allowing the radar head to swivel through 360 degrees. Cables were laid from one of the generating units and work started by plotting activity at sea over many square miles.
To the best of my knowledge there were two radar units as above, one radar ops room, one radio ops room, one engineers workshop, three 50 KVa generating plants and one armoury. The reason the armoury was last to come into service was as follows. The fact that we had felled two small trees had come to the notice of the local populace from the nearest village. (I found out later that permission had to be sought before even the smallest shrub could be removed, something to do with the erosion of land). This resulted in the first attack of the camp albeit by the villagers wielding a variety of weapons from shot guns to pitch forks. (Not EOKA terrorists). The order came for me to man the armoury and issue a rifle and five rounds to everyone. Fortunately no shots were fired and diplomacy ruled. The hundred or so attackers dispersed on the promise that no more trees would be cut down.
Up to this time we had been guarding ourselves on a rotation basis but this soon changed when the RAF regiment arrived and they soon had the area surrounded by barbed wire and guard posts at strategic points and a guard room (tent) by the entrance. The pressure on the rest of us lifted somewhat allowing us to get on with the job in hand - looking out for EOKA terrorists bringing arms in via the sea.
One of the three generator units was running constantly, resulting in it breaking down from time to time. The cause of the trouble was the cooling fan belt breaking or becoming stretched due to its type, it being segmented ie made up from small pieces of flat webbing type belting about 3"long and 3/4" wide, slightly tapered with steel pegs riveted in place in line with keyhole shaped holes or slots. This system allowed each piece of belt to be joined to the next by using a tool similar to an old fashioned button hook and each piece overlapping the next by two thirds of its length. The resulting fan belt would have about one hundred segments in it. To make up an endless belt it had to be offered up to the engine, jointed and then levered over the pulleys. Under heavy use as in this case, they were subject to stretching or breaking at any time day or night as they frequently did. Spare belts were requisitioned but none arrived during my stay with the unit, consequently the other 2 generators donated their belts to keep a regular supply of electricity flowing. This may seem to be an odd way to run things but it was much quicker to change belts than to switch generators.
The NCO's tents were in a row (see picture). It became customary for the occupants to gather in one tent each night in the absence of NAAFI, NCO's mess or any other place in which to relax.
On one occasion four of us decided to ask for 48 hour passes. After some pressure was applied to the CO he relented and the passes were approved which was just as well as we had already decided how to use the time. We would hire a car and tour the island. What else? I happened to be the only one with a UK driving licence with me. Brandishing this, a visit to Limasol was arranged and a call at the police station resulted in me getting a Cypriot driving licence.
A car hire company was visited and a Morris Minor was driven back to camp.
Our first objective was to visit Nicosia but before we left camp one of the regiment lads offered to lend me his blazer (I was the only one without smart civvies). The badge on the pocket was W.A.B.B. (The Welsh Amateur Boxing Board) and as my initials are WAB this was good enough. On arrival in Nicosia we booked into the Palace Hotel and enjoyed the joys of luxury living. Some time later suitably dressed in 'our' smart civvies we walked along Ledra Street looking for somewhere to relax but all seemed strangely quiet. Cafes were closed, there was nobody about at all except two large MP's (Red Caps) heading in our direction
"Where do you think you are going? Don't you know there is a curfew on"?
Using a rather posh accent one of the party replied
"We are looking for somewhere to eat"
Mistaking us for officers, we were directed to the Officers' Club where we spent the evening before returning to our hotel. I often wondered if the MP's knew what they were doing in sending us there. They did say that it was the safest place in town.
The following morning we set off for Kyrenia. I don't think we knew what risks we were taking until we were driving through villages whose walls were plastered with EOKA signs, by which time it was too late to worry so we kept going despite the aggressive attitude of some of the natives.
Our one stop was to visit St. Hilarion Castle, a memorable visit where I believe background scenes for the film Snow White were shot .
On arrival at Kyrenia we booked into the Dome Hotel owned by the Katsellis family. We were told that they also owned farms and other businesses in the area accounting for full employment and stability. The hotel accommodation was splendid as was the food AND we were waited on hand and foot. At the front of the building was a jetty jutting out into the sea.
After our evening meal we ventured into the harbour area of Kyrenia and visited the yacht club but found it crowded, managing to get to the bar only once, so we redeployed to another club in the town. I have forgotten its name but can describe it as follows. A single door led off the street and up a fairly narrow staircase which opened out into a large room in the centre of which was a horse-shoe shaped bar. Behind this bar was a female, perhaps in her late forties, who turned out to be retired from the previously popular radio programme 'Monday Night at Eight'. I think she was the pianist. Next morning we headed north finding the terrain flat and uninteresting compared with the mountainous southern area of the island. We continued across country to Famagusta (see pic) stopping briefly before returning to Limasol and returning
the car to its owners, ourselves down to earth or rather camp, and the daily routine of life in Her Majesty's Forces.
The RAF employed local people for clerical and maintenance work and despite the language barrier some interaction was possible. I noticed one such person who when eating his lunch every now and then took a sip from a small bottle. He refused to let me try some but the following day he came to my tent with an even smaller bottle of the same clear liquid. In broken English he advised me to drink it slowly. There wasn't even an eyeful but having sipped it I don't remember anything until tea-time and never did find out what it was!
Another thing that sticks in my memory is of a Vidor radio in the form of a very small suit case. Inside the lid, underneath the inner lining was a flat wound wire aerial.
On advice from one of the radio ops I constructed a similar wound
wire aerial using fine cotton covered wire and sticky tape. This was placed on top of the original aerial and the inner lining replaced trapping the two together but with the two ends left protruding. Attached to one of the ends was a short length of wire which was connected to a metal tent peg to form an earth and to the other end a longer length was trailed across the tops of tents forming an improvised aerial This allowed us to listen to the BBC Light Programme and the 7oclock news which was a favourite as it gave us more news of what was happening around us in Cyprus than we could have found out ourselves. Also it drew our attention to the risks we had taken on our excursion round the island in a Morris Minor.
One evening a lightning storm occurred out to sea. From our elevated view point we could see lightning forks striking the sea resulting in many mirror like discs on the water. Spectacular. This was followed by strong winds which blew down part of our mess tent.
My nemesis occurred some nights later when another storm, this time with heavy rain and high winds blew up. Rain water from the sloping ground behind my tent poured in and flooded my humble abode. My bedding must have acted like a wick because sheets, blankets and mattress were soaking wet. As for me I too was wet through and rigid. My legs and arm joints were set solid. I could not move and was in great pain. Lots of activity followed and resulted in me being placed on a dry mattress on the back of a lorry and taken to Episcopi and from there on to BMH Nicosia. It was assumed that I had rheumatic fever. Whilst there I was visited by one of my colleagues (whose name I cannot remember) who brought me news of what had been happening back at 751 Signals Unit.
One evening shortly after I became ill the camp came under attack from EOKA terrorists ( a good record of it is posted on the web site "Britain's Small Wars) The NCO's tent line took the brunt of the attack followed by the guard post. My tent, now empty, was shot up but the one where the NCO's were gathered that night was unscathed because a tree happened to be in the line of fire. Shortly after this visit I was told that I would not be returning to my unit as I had been recommended for discharge on medical grounds.
I was transported back to the UK in a RAF Hastings fitted out to carry wounded or injured. On arrival at Lynham , custom officials boarded the plane and addressed us all.
"You have only got the legal quantity of cigarettes. You have not bought cameras or jewellery or any other declarable items have you?"
Silence.
"WELL, HAVE YOU?"
No duty was collected.
All of us were taken to the hospital where a posse of reporters was waiting.
One army person had been out of camp one evening when he was shot at. The bullet struck him in the chest but before he had left camp he did something out of the ordinary. He took with him his army issue jack-knife in his top pocket. That is where the bullet struck him. The knife was passed
around for all to see. It was folded in two and the bullet was still stuck to it. A label tied to it telling this story was signed by his CO.
Another army lad was seriously wounded having been shot in the head. The bullet had entered at his left temple, rattled round the inside of his cranium to be removed from the right side of his head. It was no wonder that the paparazzi were waiting.
BBC radio was also in attendance. They carried out interviews which were broadcast live as the rest of us were listening to it on the 7 o'clock news by hospital headphones. I wondered if pals back at 751 Signals were listening to the same live broadcast on the old Vidor radio?
If, as a result of reading this, anyone who wishes to contact Will, his Tel No is: 01257 483007.
***********************
4121757 SAC Douglas Sims.
I joined the RAF for 3 years regular service and reported to Cardington, Beds. on 6 Feb 1953 for induction and kitting out with uniform.
Met other National Service recruits there in Hut 463. Our group in new uniform dress were then transported by train from RAF Cardington to West Kirby near Liverpool on 9 Feb 1953 with Corporal J. Wilson our DI in charge.
At RAF West Kirby, we were Intake No. 189. C. Squadron. Hut C.24. for 8 weeks squarebashing under supervision of Cpl. J. Wilson, who shouted and installed much discipline and respect into us all before our Passing Out Parade.
After 4 weeks training, we were allowed out of the camp and I visited Liverpool at the weekend.
After time at West Kirby, we had some leave before joining stations elsewhere for trade training.
On 22 April 1953, I travelled from home in Fulham, London, to Hereford, and reported to RAF Credenhill for typist training course at No. 2. School of Admin Trades. Training course completed on 8 Aug 1953, then back home to Fulham for leave.
On 19 Aug 1953, posted to permanent station at Watchet, Somerset, a training station for RAF Regiment being the L.A.A. Gunnery School, Doniford Camp, RAF Watchet, Somerset. I was not RAF Regiment but worked in station H.Q. as typist. My nickname at Watchet was 'Elmer' rimless glasses and crewcut, but now a bald 74 year pensioner.
A year later 4 Aug 1954, I returned to Credenhill for training course for Clerk General Duties. On 4 Nov 1954 returned back to RAF Watchet and continued working in H.Q. as Clerk G.D.
Became SAC in March 1955 and after 3 years service, demob came in Feb 1956 when I returned to Fulham, London.
Worked in Knightsbridge travel agency for 6 weeks, then a visit to New York from Southampton in the old Cunard 'Queen Mary' in March 1956 and a few weeks in Toronto, Canada, before returning to England on the Cunard 'Saxonia' from Montreal to Liverpool. Returned to travel agency in Knightsbridge for 9 years until moving to Exeter, Devon, in Sep 1965.
Now retired after 46 years in retail travel in London and Devon.
Devon is beautiful where I now live with my wife and nearby family.
On reflection, my 3 years service in the RAF during National Service time was enjoyable. It gave me the opportunity to meet different colleagues, appreciate discipline, understand and obtain respect for each other, trust and friendship, and trade training. At Watchet, I remember typing personnel occurrence reports on stencils and after officer signature distributing copies around the station. RAF Watchet had an excellent football team especially in 1954-55 when the team won all four trophies they completed for. The late Brian Clough was in RAF Regiment and excellent footballer at Watchet. I did not know him personally but remember being on guard duty with him one night.
In Dec 2007. I wrote a letter to Lord Corbett of Castle Vale (Robin Corbett) which I sent to the House of Lords.
I enclosed photos taken at RAF Watchet on Thu 18 March 1954, which was the date when Robin Corbett was demobbed from the RAF after his 2 years National Service. The photos included colleagues John Oscroft, Ray Palmer, John Shinner, John Jackson, Dave George, Frank Lay, Dave Dumbar, Brian Dancey, Robin Corbett and myself. I received a reply from Robin and was invited to House of Lords on Thursday 26 June 2008. It was a memorable visit for me as I had not seen Robin for 54 years since his demob. At the House of Lords meeting. I was also pleased to see former colleagues from RAF Watchet, Ray Palmer (Runcorn, Cheshire) and Bernard Donovan (Port Talbot, West Glamorgan), who I had also not seen since 1954.
Robin Corbett (Baron Corbett of Castle Vale) after completing his National Service, became a journalist until his election to parliament in 1974.
He was elected Labour Member of Parliament for Hemel Hempstead at the October 1974 general election, but lost the seat at the general election in 1979. He then returned to journalism until being elected to parliament in the 1983 general election, representing Birmingham Erdington as the Labour M.P. He held this seat until retirement from the House of Commons at the 2001 general election, and was raised to the peerage as Lord Corbett of Castle Vale, of Erdington in the County of West Midlands, in 2001.
In Dec 2008, I contacted by phone another RAF Watchet colleague. Brian Dancey who lives in Bath, Avon. After 54 years, it was great to speak to Brian again, and we plan to meet up again in Bath or Watchet later this year.
I have some photos that may be of interest to ex-RAF colleagues taken at Cardington and West Kirby and will try to get them on to the NS (RAF) Association website in due course. I have also a photo taken at House of Lords reunion which hopefully may appear in 'The Astral' magazine.
I am pleased to be a new member of the National Service (RAF) Association. Look forward to hearing from anyone that may remember me. So please feel free to make contact. Best wishes to you all.
Douglas Sims. email: dsjsims@tiscali.co.uk 44 Tollards Road, Countess Wear, Exeter, Devon, EX2 6JJ
****************
|