I joined the Air Force, that is, volunteered, at Salisbury, Wilts on 10th of December 1941.  (Dad was then 18 years 4 months old).  My medical and selection board was at Weston-super-Mare on 31st December and 1st January (1942).  (At this interview Dad would also have passed an intelligence test)  I passed this successfully (sworn in, paid two days airmen’s pay amounting to five shillings and threepence) and was put onto deferred service for a period of five months, during which time I went back to my ordinary life, (being now AC2 Wiiliams W. C. .)

At the end of five months I began to wait for the postman, but it wasn’t until the 22nd June before they finally arrived.  I was very excited and decided to have a short holiday before going to A.C.R.C. (Aircrew Reception Centre) (known as “Arcytarcy”) in London.

The following Monday I left my job and in the evening was starting my holiday in London.  I had nine days.  Four spent in London and five with my girlfriend in Alton.  That was the last I was to see of her for a while and I know now that it was the last time I shall ever see her.

On Sunday 12th June 1942, I left Melksham and travelled to London, spent the night at my relatives and reported next morning, 13th July, at Lords (Cricket Ground).  That day I filled in various forms, was put into No. 8 Flight and collected a uniform and kit.  The Flight was then marched, (it seemed miles) to St. James’ Close (this was a modern empty block of flats overlooking Regents  Park) which was to be our home for the next few weeks.  It all seemed very strange, marching around in a body and still wearing civilian clothing, sharing a room with five other chaps (sleeping on the floor on beds made from three square “Biscuits” and two blankets and washing/shaving in cold water without the benefit of mirrors) and eating at long tables (in the Zoo restaurant, being given two plates on which porridge, and bacon and beans were slapped), hundreds at one sitting.

The next fortnight was one of medical examinations (including an “FFI”, free from infection which involved dropping one’s trousers and underpants while the MO looked for any overt signs of venereal or skin disease), inoculations, vaccinations, blood tests, fitting of uniforms and plenty of drill.

We were allowed out in the evenings.  I soon paled up with some chaps and we would go to cinemas in various parts of London.

Volunteers for overseas were then asked for and I was one of the ‘lucky’ ones.  Exactly two weeks after entering we were told that we were going on leave.  Two days of filling in forms and packing and then we were away on seven days.

They were rather uneventful days, having been away from home for two weeks they were not appreciated and I was longing to be back again.

When I got back I had to have some inoculations, draw flying kit and several large scale inspections.  After a week of this we embarked on lorries which took us to the station and in the afternoon we found ourselves at West Kirby.  Here we drew our tropical kit and had a rest cure for a week, spending the larger part of the day in West Kirby, Hoylake or Meols.

On Sunday 23rd August we left West Kirby.  We boarded the train at about 23.00 hours and there we heard our last air-raid siren.  When we awoke we were in Avonmouth and we went from the train to the “Highland Brigade”, (our home for the next six weeks).  Everything was rather crowded and not at all comfortable.  We wrote our farewell letters and that evening left port and anchored in the Bristol Channel.  We stopped there all day and started out in the evening, arriving two days later in the Clyde.

We started out “proper” the next evening and took a last look at the country we love.  Then came ten days, the first three of which were very miserable ones, not being able to eat and feeling queer inside.  When that had passed I had a fairly enjoyable time.  The canteen was fairly well stocked and the weather was lovely. 

On the tenth day we sighted land – a strange land to us – and we came to rest in the harbour of Freetown.  Everything seemed queer, no black-out and the wearing of long clothes and mosquito ointment.  We spent hours on the decks watching the natives.  Unfortunately, the weather was not in our favour and a misty rain fell all the time.

Everyone was very pleased when the rhythmic beat of the engines was felt once more and we lost sight of land.

The next sixteen days we saw nothing but the sea.  Each night my pal and I would buy a mug of beer, some biscuits and cheese and then retire to the aft boat deck to study the stars.  I was mess orderly and so spent most of the day guarding the mess tins and keeping a place in the queue.

On the sixteenth day we sighted land once more and everyone was much happier.  By breakfast we had docked in Durban harbour and were preparing to leave the ship.  Several days previously we had drawn South African money and got our kit bags from the hold.  In the evening we got from the ship onto a train and left Durban and so faded all our hopes of having a leave there.  The next two were marvellous ones.  The food was wizard, the beds comfortable and all through the day we played cards or watched the landscape of Natal, Transvaal, Bechuanaland and finally Rhodesia passing by.

On 1st October at about 20.00 hours we arrived in Bulawayo.  All the other cadets at the ITW (Initial Training Wing) gave us a most hearty welcome.  We were given a very good meal and billets made from gum poles and hessian!

We were all anxious to get through ITW and get onto flying, but we were due for a big disappointment, having to wait in, what was called Receiving Depot for nine weeks before starting the ITW course.

Those weeks passed fairly quickly being in a new country and having new interests.  During the day we did drill and lectures with several guard duties thrown in and two or three “bundu bashes”.  Twice in Bulawayo sufficed to look at all there was to see.  Our favourite spots were the Services Club and the Swimming Bath.  We arrived in time for Rhodesian summer and were not accustomed to the heat.

Just before Xmas 1942 we started our ITW course.  This was called the primary and lasted six weeks.  This was my first Xmas in the RAF and one of the most miserable I have spent.  I stayed in bed all the time, getting up just for meals.

At the end of the primary we had an examination and here I was due for a further disappointment, having failed in maths.  This meant that I had to start all over again!  Several of my pals were in the same boat, and in that next six weeks we really enjoyed ourselves, going to all the pictures every evening and out during the weekends.  This time I just managed to scrape through the examinations and so passed onto the secondary course, a further six weeks of lectures and studying – not that I did much!!

I was successful first time in the secondary exams and so prepared to leave ITW for EFTS.  We were given two days leave, which I spent at the Toc H. Bulawayo and then I was on the train for Mount Hampden.  Here we were billeted only two in a room.  I shared mine with Ralph Towsey.  We had to kick our heels over the week-end and start flying on the Monday.

That great day arrived, the flying kit was taken from the kit-bag at last and I had my first ride in an aeroplane with my instructor F/O Reynolds (now F/Lt).  I wasn’t so thrilled as I thought I should be.  The ground went past too slowly!!  Now came several days of dual flying, straight and level, climbing and gliding, stalling and spinning, medium turns and “circuits and bumps”.  At 8 hours 30 minutes dual, I was very thrilled to be first on my course for a Solo Test and at 9 hours 5 minutes was the first to solo.

Four more hours “circuits and bumps” and then onto climbing and gliding turns, steep turns, forced landings, power approaches, precautionary landings, low flying, aerobatics, and cross-country flights.  We had several crashes on the course, but only one was killed and no one seemed to worry much.  I had a minor prang when on a solo X-country to Gatoona – over-shooting at that aerodrome and running into the ditch.  I broke the propeller and dented the kite a bit, and so travelled back to Salisbury by train.  Next morning I was solo to Gatoona once more and made certain of a good landing this time.

We were flying Tiger Moths for nine weeks during which time we did 75 hours.  Then came our final test, a week’s leave and SFTS.

I spent my leave in Umtali (the largest town in the eastern District of Rhodesia).  The landscape of Rhodesia is very uninteresting.  It consists of rolling plain (bundu) studded with small thorn bushes, broken occasionally by a kopje or ridge of hills.  The whole is a dullish brown.  The Salisbury area is a bit better with a few green trees to break the monotony.  The Umtali or Inyanga district is called “the Highlands of Rhodesia” and is the best area of the lot.  With high hills and kopjes and the highest points in Rhodesia – about 8000’ above sea level.

On returning from leave I was posted to a Harvard school (No. 20 SFTS (Service Flying Training School) Cranborne).  These aircraft seemed rather formidable at first, after the Tiger Moth.  We soon got them ‘taped’ though and after six hours I went solo.  Then came a period of 2 ½ months which was much the same as EFTS only in the Harvard.  We still had lectures each day and at the end of this 2 ½ months our final examinations, known as the Wings Exam..

I managed to pass this OK and so qualified for a weeks leave.  We were, by the way, promoted to ASUs (acting sgt unpaid) as soon as we entered the SFTS.

I stayed in Salisbury for this leave as there was no travel on the trains.  By the end of the week I was pretty well ‘browned’ off.

Back to Cranborne again for a further 2 ½ months in Advanced Training School.  Here we did, bombing, gunnery, interceptions etc, finish with large formations.

At last that great day arrived.  October 15th 1943 and by some mighty power I had not been scrubbed and was present to receive my ‘wings’.  Bad news now awaited me – I had been selected to be a flying instructor, to stay in Rhodesia.

Once again I had to part from all my friends and go to the Central Flying School at Norton.  Luckily one of my pals went with me and knowing we had to stay in the country we set out to make some friends.

Mk1 Harvards being refuelled.

Fairy Battle

A Fairy battle target tug, the colours were yellow and black diagonal stripes.

Battle TT being refuelled.

A day's work done, back into the hangar.