North Scotland

BACK TO NORTH SCOTLAND AND A NEW EXPERIENCE

After my pleasant experience with the toys and the kids at the hospital I was all set to enjoy the rest of my leave, but NO; suddenly, and for no apparent reason I was recalled to Peterhead, and had to leave on Friday the 13th, leaving London from King's Cross Station on a train for Aberdeen, arriving about 8 a.m. next morning.  I chummed up with a RAF Sgt. and we went ice skating at the local arena and then to a show.  We stayed the night at the YMCA.  That same night a raid on Aberdeen resulted in a direct hit on the arena I had left just hours previously.  Such is fate.  [shades of my first night in London].

At 4 p.m. the next day I took a bus to Peterhead and then another smaller bus out to the  RAF Station, Peterhead. The snow situation had improved thank goodness and it was much easier to get around the camp.   I was a little disappointed though to be back here, as I thought I was well on the way to going overseas.

On the Monday I reported to my signals officer, W.O. Shepherd and once more reported to the VHF Tender to work with the Operations Room for that air sector.   I was located on #10 site and assigned from my old hut of 101 to 137.  I reported to a W.O. Turner.  It seemed that several of us had been recalled, so here I was again with some old mates from Cranwell, Willie Adams, Mac MacDougall, John Simons, Taffy Thomas, Ian Black, Mike Jacobs, Bill Willans, Horace Baldwin and Alan Garlick and a wireless mechanic Harry Welding.  There were so many of us that shift duties were a breeze with lots of time off.  It was also bloody boring.  Our Ops. room was connected with Cocklaw and Dyce in the north and HQ Ops. room.  Had to watch our Ps and Qs here. Time dragged on. 132 Squadron left and the crack 613 squadron arrived.  Then the Canadian 416 Squadron left.  Then we heard that 613 were off to Malta.  

There was lots of movement.  One wondered what was in store for us.   

On April 6, Ian Black, Willie Adams, MacDougall and Harry Welding, left for West Kirby [Liverpool], prior to shipping overseas.  

Then Eureka, I got 14 days leave, was paid  £4 .12s plus four shillings a day for travelling expense.  Great!  I went to get my pass at the guardroom and they didn't have it.  Oh hell, here we go again.  Off to the Orderly Room where staff remembered my posting going through, but that's all.  They said if I wrote out a pass for myself in a hurry they would "pass" it for me.  But then I had to run across to the signals tower to get W.O. Shepherd to sign it.  As luck would have it he was going to dinner.  I met him on the road and walked along beside him all the way to the bus stop while he signed the form [using my back as a table], in the necessary places.  He said, "If I miss my bus, I'll put you on a charge."

I rushed into the Orderly Room to find the staff had gone to dinner and only a WAAF was in charge.  I explained everything to her, smiled nicely and finally she filled in my ration card for me.  She didn't seem to know her job though and we got in quite a muddle.   Finally it was sorted out. I went to a farm house where I had ordered a dozen and a half eggs for Aunt Eva.  I just managed to catch the 3:10 from Peterhead to Aberdeen, and was back in London by 9:30 Saturday morning. I spent the first part of the week digging Uncle Bert's allotment garden in a field next door to their house.  

On another outing I went down to Windsor to see my Aunt Nell. I had a nice day with her seeing Eton College [where she was looking after many young ladies].  I walked across the playing fields with her, to Windsor Castle.  It was a perfect day weather-wise. 

At this point I am going to put in an excerpt from Aunt Nell's diary, which I think anyone reading this will find of interest.  It reads as follows:

"During the war [WW2], I took a post at Eaton College as matron to an evacuated school of girls.  You will no doubt wonder why, as this is a boys college.  In those trying days when everyone was being turned out of London and people were asked to take whoever they could, into their homes, Eton College was no exception.  So the decision was, sooner than have their individual houses disturbed, they would give one over entirely to us - hence Bekington [name of house where I was]. I was very proud and happy to be chosen for the post. One of the reasons for accepting me, was the claim I had the mother instinct which was necessary when all of these girls, aged from 8 to 18 were separate from homes and parents.   I had over 40 under my care and with the very co-operative staff and under matron, we had the whole concern running very well.  There were also quite a number of outside girls, meaning those that slept out in private homes and fed with us.  My daily register reads quite amusing when I have to record for the Ministry of Food, regulations as to how many ate and how many slept."

There is much more than the above, about the war and Eaton College in Aunt Nell's bio, but that will have to wait for now.  I'm sure a family member will have it, long after I am gone.

Most of my leave was spent visiting relatives.  I spent more time visiting London's West End, rather posh don't you know‚ looking in the shops, walking Oxford Street.  I visited Uncle Bert at his office and then he took me out and showed me a few places before supper.  We went up the Old Kent Road and he showed me the Tower of London and the Bloody Tower.  I saw The Monument where the famous Fire of London started many years ago.  I visited The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street [the stock exchange bldg.]  We went to St. Paul's Cathedral.  He told me that at one time a distraught lady had jumped from the top of the dome and killed herself.

We ended the day by visiting the famous pub, Dirty Dick's.  It is partially underground and very, very old inside. There were old dried up bats and cow's heads, dog's heads and all sorts of grim looking things hanging from the ceiling, including condoms [a modern touch].  Everything seemed to be covered in dust.  They say it is all artificial though and the place is really quite clean.  Could have fooled me.  Then we came home to Aunt Eva's for supper.

The next day I visited the Beaver Club, [the hang out for Canadians away from home], for the sole purpose of being part of a radio broadcast to Canada to mom's and dad's; but I was too late for that day's broadcast.  I ended up sending a cable to mom with some flowers, for onepound, about $5 then.  On the 26th of April/42 I caught the 10:15 p.m. train back to Aberdeen.  The train was crowded with soldiers, sailors and airmen.  You didn't see many people who were not in uniform.  There were no seats so I had to stand all the way to York.  Even the aisles were crowded with A.T.S., WAAFs, some sitting some lying, some leaning this way and that one against the other [back to back], jiggling around with the train's motion, and all trying to snooze a bit. 

I arrived in Edinburgh at 8:30 in the morning, where I changed trains.  Grabbed a bun in the station cafe with some so, so, tea, then caught the 10 a.m. train for Aberdeen, arriving at 1:30 p.m.  Had a bit of a wash up here.  I went to a picture show and came out to catch the 6:05 p.m. back to Peterhead.    I had something to eat in the Service Club and then caught the bus out to the camp.   Another leave finished, but when in the heck was I going overseas?  I was bloody browned off!

My first night back and on duty and we had an air raid so the fighters were up.  It was nice  to be busy. Many of the lads had gone overseas while I was away and now our shifts were closer together and longer, with just myself, Horace Baldwin and Mike Jacobs to share the duties. 

Then one day, something completely different happened. Several of us [with Sten guns yet,], were put on a lorry - no rations - and we were taken out into the wilds, [and believe me there are], of Scotland, north of Peterhead.  We took a long winding dirt road up and down sloping terrain to a very desolate spot.  All we could see when we arrived was a squat flat-roofed rectangular brick building about eight feet high, the size and shape of a very large packing crate.  That is about the only way I can describe it.  It was very, very drab in a sort of camouflage that I guess was supposed to match the countryside.  No windows.  One door.  It turned out that it contained six 'sets' A,B,C,D and Command Guard Channels and one Stand/By.  Another large lorry had followed us carrying two [in sections],  huge aerials.  We spent the day using the truck winches and a lot of cussing and swearing, assembling the two aerials a section at a time with the winch, hauling each one up into position above the brick crate-like building, where they stood out like giant sentinels against the sky.  So much for a camouflaged wireless hut.  

The crew who had built the building and placed the radio trans/rec. inside had long gone many weeks ago.  Why they had not finished the job of putting up the aerial etc., I don't know.  They were probably shippedout of the country, so that they wouldn't be able to talk to anyone about it.  Once the aerials were up we were ready to start tuning the sets.  Would you believe "they" expected us to be operational that same night. 

No one had thought to send out any rations with us.  All we had was a bit of water in our water bottles. 

Fortunately it was the time of year when the days were a little longer, and where we were situated farther north the days were longer still.  I either volunteered or was selected to go hunt for some food at local farmhouses, none of which could be seen as far as the eye could see in all directions.  There was sparse, low growth foliage, on barren, undulating land as far as one could see to the horizon.  Nevertheless I set out on my hike.  At least we were in good physical shape in those days.