Issue Number 20

August 2009

My Time at Halton, and before.

by 681095 A/A James Strachan Airframe Fitter

I was educated at Inverarity primary school and then Forfar Academy. My class has an annual reunion and our form teacher comes also. He is in his eighties now and we enjoy listening to his reminisces and things he wished he had done differently, like most of us probably. He brings along his leather belt to keep us in line, just like the old days!

As a youngster I was captivated by aviation and built model aeroplanes as a hobby. My association with the RAF began when I joined the Forfar Squadron of the Air Training Corps with two of my classmates.

One of them entered the family bakery and later in life owned his own light aircraft. The other became a police cadet and was eventually the Deputy Chief Constable of Tayside and a keen glider pilot. Our CO was the manager of the Commercial Bank and was assisted by other officers and civilian instructors. We learned about marching, parades and of course aviation subjects. Highlights of my time in the ATC which come to mind are going on summer camp to Filton near Bristol where I had my first flight, in an Anson. I also fired the .303 rifle on a 25-yard range. My shoulder hurt for days afterwards and my ears were singing for weeks, no ear defenders in those days. One day we were being addressed by an RAF Flt.Sgt. not far from an Anson, which was being started rather unsuccessfully when a small fire started in an intake. The Flt.Sgt. walked over to the aircraft, removed his beret, stuffed it in the intake, put the fire out, replaced it and continued his address. How cool was that? Only ‘cool’ had not been invented then. Going through my young mind was ‘if it’s this difficult to start the engine, how do they know it won’t stop when it’s flying’.

The following year we went to Kinloss for our summer camp. I had a very pleasant flight to Dishforth and back in a Varsity. I also had a very unpleasant flight in a tail wheeled Shackleton. The first part was fine then we returned to do circuits and bumps, big bumps and several of us on board were feeling ill. We stopped and I remember thinking good we can get off now. Not so, the Flt.Eng. was just checking the undercarriage and off we went again. This happened a number of times before we finished our air experience flight, an experience I thought we could do without.

During my time in the ATC I won the Wing aircraft recognition competition for our Squadron, fame at last.

One day listening to the announcements on the radio there was a bit about aircraft apprentices. I thought ‘that’s for me’ and I applied. I took the entrance exam at the ATC Wing headquarters in Dundee. Another lad took the exam as well and I was invited to his house for lunch, which was nice of him. Unfortunately he did not pass the exam.

I was invited to Halton for interviews and in the evening we were shown round the airframe workshops. In there was a group of aircraft that had played a part in the history of aviation and I could not believe what I was seeing. Neville Duke’s red Hunter, the Vampire that had held the world altitude record, what looked like a swept wing Attacker, the Sapphire engined Meteor and a few others.

At first, Halton was a big culture shock for me but I soon got used to the routine. The first three weeks were the busiest of my life so far. The Leading Apprentice showing us the various tricks like pressing our uniforms, bulling boots and wetting our berets to shape them properly. Nobody seemed to have explained this to the National Service education officers, did you notice?

We were constantly supervised by a New Zealand Cpl.App. How could these people wield such power? I chose cross-country running as my sport as team games never appealed to me. Brought up in the countryside, I spent most of my free time on my own, following country pursuits. However, snow is the great leveller and when the sports fields were frozen over everyone was out in denims running along the Buckinghamshire roads led by Wg.Cdr. Stubbs.

The break up of the entries after Christmas saw me move to 2 Wing 1 Squadron Block 7 and this meant that you only got to know your colleagues who were with you at schools and workshops. I found the academic subjects quite difficult and wished I had stayed at school for another couple of years before going to Halton. I did three days Jankers for climbing into a classroom through a missing windowpane in the door while waiting to get in, aided and abetted by one AA Ward. We did it for a prank and had no ulterior motive, after all who would seriously want to pinch a copy of ‘Mechanics of Flight’. I enjoyed going to the ‘Other Denominations’ church, the Chaplain there had a marvellous personality.

Summer camp at Southport was enjoyable; the weather was good as was the food, cooked outside on portable stoves. The Regiment instructors were firm but fair and I think we all enjoyed being with the Regt. Officer who had recently returned from fighting the Communists in Malaya, which would explain the machete which dangled from his belt. We had weapons training on the long range. The .303 rifle gave me the inevitable sore shoulder but I looked forward to firing the Bren. After firing off the first magazine we waited for the MPI indicator from the butts. Incredibly the indicator was being waved from side to side, I had missed the target! Worse was to come, a RAF Regt.Cpl. standing behind me, tall, with an immaculately pressed blue, asked me if I was firing at the right target! Oh well, no marksman badge for me!

I went on the Spanish trip with Flt.Lt.Healey. It was my first time abroad and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We had lessons in Spanish in the evenings prior to the trip. Mike Stanley has a very good memory and described the trip very well. I remember visiting the Bodega where we sampled the wines and were offered food as well. I wondered what the rest of our time in Spain was going to be like if it was this good after a couple of hours. We were not disappointed. A trip to Barcelona was organised and we visited the foundations of a cathedral still being built and we also went to a bullfight, maybe that was when Mike was enjoying coffee on the Ramblas studying the talent. Some of us frequented the bar of the Pension Fonda Tonet and I still have their business card autographed by the ladies who worked there. One evening went to a dance and enjoyed mesmerising flamenco dancing. Two friends and I visited Tossa de Mar again in the early 1960’s during a motor bike trip but that will be in a later story.

Looking back would say that in general I enjoyed my time at Halton. The totally unique experience of marching to and from work behind a pipe band, seeing the drum major throwing his mace over the cables at Main Point, cheering when they played ’Black Bear’, these are experiences that I will never forget.