1957 I Join The Royal Air Force .........................

In a way I had no choice. At seventeen I was acutely aware that National Service was looming. This requirement lasted from war's end in 1945 in Britain until somewhere in the sixties when the law was changed. National Service was dreaded by young men in my day. It meant you served in the military for two years when you reached eighteen. NO exemptions unless you were seriously medically unfit or already worked in a war related industry.

So, rather than have two hulking red-caps knock on the door and carry me away into the dreaded British Army - I opted for the "pale blue".

Presumably I went to a recruiting office and just - volunteered, I don't remember now. But I soon found myself at R.A.F. Cardington.

I found the heading picture on the 'web'. Those are the balloon sheds of Cardington. It said in the article that the Titannic would fit in one of those sheds with only 40 feet sticking out. They were indeed huge, completely dominating everything during my brief say. Originally built in the 1920s to house the construction of airships they still stand today - 80 years later. The ill-fated R101 was built there, that huge airship that crashed and burned in France on her maiden voyage. Thus ended airship building, in Britain at least.

When I was at Cardington the sheds housed 'barrage' balloons of world war two vintage. Huge, almost like silver elephants, these were used to train RAF Balloon Operators. Balloon operators and their balloons in turn helped train Army paratroopers, and others, in the arts of parachute jumping. The necessary huge piles of red hydrogen gas cylinders were everywhere for inflating the balloons, not very nice stuff hydrogen - it killed all the people on that R101!

But Cardington was also the 'kitting-out" centre for the R.A.F. and here I was duly kitted-out with a seemingly endless array of clothing etc. We got a best blue and a working blue uniform, a huge greatcoat, shoes and boots, socks and underwear, shirts and ties and collars - even collar studs. And ... a beret and a 'flat' hat, a webbing belt and small pack and shoebrushes and pyjamas and towels ......... the list seemed endless. Lastly they gave us a kitbag in which it was all supposed to fit (I never saw that packing miracle achieved).

We were there a very few days but much happened. Looking back, it was there, that in a way, I determined the rest of my life. 'Choosing a trade', seemed no big deal at the time. The only trades open to me (so they said) were Airframe Mechanic, Marine Craft and Police. I probably had a young man's aversion to police in any form so I rejected that. Marine Craft (yes I know it's the Air Force) ... well I couldn't swim so I side-stepped that too.

Which left Aircraft Mechanic. Well, I'd always had a thing for aeroplanes AND it was the only choice left, so I was on my way to being one. To get the trade it seemed you had to 'sign on' for five years minimum, so I said yes to that too.

We also went for haircuts. No too traumatic for me but these were the days of Teddy Boys, the then current male-toughy image. It was nice to see these young louts lose their DA (duck's arse) hair style and their padded shoulders and peg-leg pants - they ended up looking just like us, thin and young and lost.

Visits to the tailor got our uniforms to the point where they nearly fit. The R.A.F. never did seem to care much about the uniforms it gave its airmen. Looking at relative pictures of me will confirm this.

All that was left was the swearing our allegiance to our monarch and swearing to obey the orders of those officers placed in authourity above us. Now we waited for our transportation to "square-bashing" or boot-camp as my North American readers will know it. We sat around sewing our number tags on the countless bits of our new kit and wondering just what we'd let ourselves in for.

A day or so later a train pulled in at the bottom of the parade ground and we marched down to it in disorder and climbed aboard - if Cardington had been a shock, more shocking was to come.