Case study – Ron Larkin in RAF

The Wing Commander stood aloof at the head of the inspection party – you could almost see his brain planning what devious move to make – when suddenly he took the white china mug from the bedside locker nearest to him. Without even looking inside the mug, he held it out at arm’s length, declaring it to be ‘verminous’ and just let it drop to the floor, smashing it into a dozen pieces. Not a sound was made by anyone, but our anguish was palpable. The dropping of the mug was not only unnecessary, but also a callous act as the mugs were, surprisingly, not supplied by the RAF but had to be purchased by each airman from the NAAFT. Whilst made of good quality china, they cost 2/6 representing 10% of our weekly allowance – and the last thing you needed was some officer wasting your money. About three more mugs suffered the same fate; one airman’s razor was thrown on the floor and one of the inspection party ‘accidentally’ trod on it, rendering it unusable.

Halfway along the hut the Wing Commander declared that ‘This hut is a disaster. The inspection is being abandoned and a further inspection will be made tomorrow.’ We all felt not only totally humiliated and distraught, but also very angry and slightly frightened. Having spent so much time and hard work the previous night, we didn’t know what we could do differently for the hut to pass the next inspection.

We were slightly gratified to learn that two of the other huts in the Flight had suffered the same fate, meaning that only one hut out of four had passed the inspection … their turn came the following week!

Case study – Ron Larkin

Whilst you could not turn your eyes when at attention, you had a very good idea where the Drill Instructor was in relation to your position. Occasionally, however, you could be caught out and be shocked to find him literally breathing down your neck saying, ‘Airman, am I ‘urting you?’

‘No, Sir,’ would be your automatic reply, only to be admonished for calling a corporal ‘Sir’. The charade would be repeated with you saying, ‘No, Corporal,’ to which he would bark, ‘Well I bloody well ought to be,’cos I’m standing on your hair – now go and get a bloody ‘aircut!’

Of course, the whole Flight would laugh, as the Corporal wanted, only for him to admonish them for their outburst. These drill instructors had countless well-used witticisms with which to ply us all day. Some were quite funny at the first time of hearing, but they palled a little after constant use. Another favourite was: ‘Airman, did you use a mirror when you shaved this morning?’

‘Yes, Corporal.’
‘Well, tomorrow I suggest you use a bloody razor.’

Case study – Joan Belk

My three friends and I were having dinner one day, when the Duty Officer came round. ‘Any complaints, Airwomen?’ he said, smiling at us.

‘Yes Sir,’ said Lilian, ‘we don’t like the potatoes looking at us while we are eating.’ (She meant the eyes on the potatoes.)

‘Right girls,’ he said, still smiling, ‘report to the cook house at nine o’clock in the morning – you, you, you and you.’

The four of us reported to the smiling Sergeant the next morning. He ordered us to follow him, and I was thinking, ‘Why is he smiling?’ I soon found out.

‘There you are girls,’ he said, handing us a small kitchen knih each. He knocked on the wall, and down a chute came a ton ol spuds that needed eyeing. ‘And don’t forget, take every eye out, and report to me when you have finished.’ When we finished those, we rubbed our hands, pleased with what we had done, when bump, another load came down the chute. We were there all day, and I couldn’t face potatoes for a while after that!

Case study – George Eckley

We each had to do guard duty every ten days or so, and for this six men were required from the various platoons. Seven men were actually selected, but the best turned-out man received a tap on the shoulder from the Duty Sergeant. The ‘stickman’, as he was termed, was not required, having earned the right to return to his billet. I was fortunate enough to be the stickman the first time I reported for guard duty – I was delighted, so were the rest of the platoon. However, this resulted in certain pressures. A second nomination as stickman brought with it release from all future guard duties during basic training, and the right to go into town. It also bestowed great honour on the platoon.

All hopes now rested on me, so no effort was spared when it came to my second guard duty. The lads treated me like royalty: a newer greatcoat was lent to me; my trousers were turned inside out and the creases sharpened with Fairy soap (it had to be Fairy as there was no perfume), and the hems were weighted to enhance the way they hung. I was also made to stand on a table whilst my boots were given the final polish, being lifted down bodily so that I didn’t have to bend my foot and risk the boots being creased. No effort was spared, and the bull — and expectations – expended on my appearance had to be seen to be believed.

I had never been so nervous as during that second inspection, but the eventual tap on my shoulder was worth the wait. I think the whole camp must have known the outcome when I returned to the hut, because the celebrations were nothing if not loud.

Case study – Ron Larkin

I was told that I would be working in the RAF Records Office, Gloucester, as a Machine Recording Operator and that I was going to attend a six-week training course. Everything seemed to be very civilised here; I wasn’t being shouted at; I wasn’t continually being called ‘Airman’ and people were explaining things in a constructive manner. So there was a different life in the RAF after Hednesford!

1 was taken, with all my kit, to Hut 248 and given a bed and exactly the same type of wardrobe and cabinet as we had before. Whilst the hut was reasonably tidy, it wasn’t bulled up to the standard to which I had become accustomed. This completely different and relaxed atmosphere was rather off-putting and somewhat of an anti-climax after the rarefied atmosphere of basic training camp.

I was told to report to Warrant Officer Monroe at the Admin Office the following morning at 0900 hrs. ‘Nine o’clock,’ I thought, ‘this must be like a holiday camp compared with where I have just come from!’

Case study – Robert Measures

Calcutta erupted in violent riots towards the end of 1945. The rioters had a particularly disgraceful habit of tying soldiers to the steering wheel of a vehicle and then setting it on fire. In slight mitigation, there were many military-type civilian-owned vehicles, painted in Army colour, being driven with the usual abandon around Calcutta and, when the inevitable accident occurred, the quickly gathering mob assumed that it had been caused by the unloved military. Recognising this, the Army decreed that the bonnets of all its transport should be painted with distinctive wide yellow ‘tiger’ stripes. Thankfully, this took most of the heat out of the situation.