I signed up at Wigan and had my medical exam (at No.1 Medical Board, Wigan) on the 27th December 1940, I passed at grade 1. Shortly after my birthday I received my posting instructions and a travel warrant to proceed to West Kirby R.A.F. depot. When I told Edna, she was upset and she said she wanted to come to Aintree train station in Liverpool to see me off. I had to go to Aintree via Ormskirk railway station and then change to the Cheshire line to West Kirby. Edna and I made arrangements to meet at the bottom of Sandy Lane to catch an early bus to Ormskirk. On the departure day I was stood at the bus stop waiting for Edna to arrive. Eventually the bus appeared and there was still no sign of Edna. I had no option but to leave, as I had to be at West Kirby in time to catch the train.
Disheartened and upset I waited on the platform at Aintree station for the Cheshire train, wondering what had happened to Edna and why she hadn’t come to see me off, when suddenly I heard my name being called and turned to look down the platform and to my delight saw Edna running towards me. She was out of breath and said that she had overslept and had jumped out of bed, rolled up her nightie and tucked it into her knickers. She put on her coat and rushed out of the house and was fortunate to see a chap she knew and managed to persuade him to run her to Aintree. I was so glad to see her and although we only had 10 minutes to say our goodbyes, we will always be grateful for the man who worked for Len Rainford (the business next door to where Edna lived) who was just leaving in his van and was kind enough to bring Edna to me.

New recruits in their uniform (I’m at the front in the middle)
On arrival at West Kirby, along with a lot of other lads around my age, we got kitted out and shortly afterwards we were all drafted to Blackpool for training on the beach. We were billeted with several landladies who were being paid by the R.A.F. to provide board and lodging. I thought to myself ‘this is great, we will have a good bed and good food’.

We had to muster on the beach early every morning seven days a week to do all the necessary training i.e. marching in unison – rifle drill etc. I enjoyed it. I felt the benefit of the exercise and was always hungry, but the Blackpool landladies always looked after us on that score. We also did some target practice and further instruction in a public meeting hall. The period of training lasted around 4-5 weeks and then we wondered what would happen next, We got a couple of days leave and were allowed to go home to await further instructions. I was posted to R.A.F. bomber command at Linton-on-Ouse near York, on the 3rd of Feb 1941.

The aircraft at this station were mainly Halifax bombers. I was attached to the M.T. (Motor Transport) section, where I soon made friends and one friend in particular, a chap named Bill Sharp who came from Padiham near Burnley. I think what brought us together apart from being another Lancashire lad, was the fact that I had brought my ukulele with me which I had recently bought prior to joining the R.A.F. with a view to learning to play it. I wasn’t much good though, but Bill was quite interested and he asked me if I had any music sheets so he could try it out, I gave him some sheets and he had a go. He spent a fair bit of time with it and he began to play it reasonably well, much better than me, so from then on we were mates. We used to go to the N.A.A.F.I (Navy, Army, Air Force Institute) on camp for a drink or two when not on duty. The NAAFI was well used by all the men but also the women (W.A.A.F.S – Women’s Army & Airforce Service) went there to relax when not on duty. We went into York now and again as it was only about 8 miles from the aerodrome and the R.A.F. supplied a passenger bus each night for the trip. with a pick up point at a set time later for the return journey. If one happened to miss the return trip he or she was in trouble and would be put on a charge.

I can remember a period each night where our group would have to pull trailers containing several 1000lb bombs, which had been hydraulically loaded on to low flat trolleys with tractors units and take them to the waiting aircraft bomb bays where they were hoisted up into the aircraft. There was always quite a number of aircraft being loaded with bombs, usually around a dozen or more. These planes were being refuelled ready for take off and personnel would be checking the machine guns in the rear turret. Whilst all this was being done the aircrews were in the briefing room being shown their targets in Germany. After the briefing finished we took the crews to their respective aircrafts and the engines would be started and warmed up. When the time came we watched as each Halifax taxied in line to the runway and took off. We all wondered each night when operations were on just how many would return safely. There was a break for us for a few hours until early morning, around dawn when we were back on the fringe of the runway together with other R.A.F. personnel listening for the sound of aircraft engines. Eventually we would hear the first Halifax coming in to land and others would follow at intervals, some badly shot up and having difficulty landing. It was lucky if all the aircraft returned safely each morning. Many times one aircraft, sometimes two, did not return and there were times when members of the crew were wounded. I remember early one morning when I was on duty I was amazed that the pilot of this particular aircraft had managed to even land it safely, it was so badly shot up. There was a big hole in the fuselage, parts of the tail was shot away and worst of all, the rear gunner was spattered over the guns in the badly damaged turret. I think I have said enough about what those lads in the aircrew went through to do their part in saving this country. I have nothing but the utmost praise for them and I think everyone will agree. This routine carried on during the following weeks and months, I don’t have any idea how many planes and aircrew we lost - but there were too many.

Of course some nights ‘ops’ were cancelled due to bad weather conditions. The events of one night during the 11/12th of May 1941 are still vivid in my mind. It was a clear moonlit night and some of us were in the billet, (which in those days were Nisson huts. Rows and rows of these metal huts were placed in regimental straight lines to accommodate ground personnel.) Bill Sharp said "Lets go down to the N.A.A.F.I. for a beer". So off we went. We were in there quite a while talking and drinking and having a snack, when suddenly the air raid siren started - so most of us went outside to listen for aircraft engine noise and after about two minutes we heard Jerry in the skies and we made a dash for the nearest air raid shelter, which was alongside the N.A.A.F.I. We heard the bombs explode and the gunfire from the army blokes who were based on the fringe of the aerodrome.

When the ‘all clear’ sounded we came out to view the damage. Bombs had been dropped right across the site in a line and also on the runway. Fires caused by incendiary bombs were blazing and one of the hangers was on fire. Some of the billets were on fire and lots of chaps were trying to put the fires out. We dashed to our billet and found it still relatively intact but we were devastated to find that the air raid shelter outside our billet had received a direct hit and at the bottom of the crater we could see several dead bodies of our colleagues, who had remained behind in the billet when we left to go for a drink. We could not move for a while we were so upset but there was nothing we could do and so we helped to clear up the mess and extinguish the fires. When it became daylight the damage was clearer to see and as far as human life was concerned, there were 13 dead and 13 injured (according to records). The thoughts in our minds (Bill and myself) were that if we hadn’t gone to the N.A.A.F.I. that night, we would have been lying at the bottom of that crater as that particular shelter was the nearest one to our billet. We knew we had been extremely lucky and were thankful. (Obviously our time hadn’t come).