It was also about this time that my father asked me if I would like to do a Fire Watching shift on alternate Saturday nights at the premises where he worked. (On the Saturdays when I was not there the Foreman’s son would do it). My father and the foreman were the other two regular members of the three man shift. (All owners of large premises had a Fire Watching team on duty after normal working hours every day to put out fires caused by incendiary bombs etc.). Dad’s firm’s premises (a book-binders, full of paper etc.) were adjacent to London Bridge railway station and to Hays Wharf on the river Thames  -  all in all a perfect target for bombers sandwiched between a large railway station and a river.

My father and the foreman took over the shift at 6pm but they allowed me to go dancing provided I reported by midnight.  They also allowed me to sleep on a camp bed all night until we went off duty at 6am, whilst they took it in turns to stay awake. For this duty we were each paid six shillings and eight pence. Saturdays then became very full days with being at work in Smithfield in the morning, playing rugby in the afternoon, dancing in the evenings and fire watching duties at night.

After a good  Sunday breakfast at home I cycled to the Sunday morning ATC meeting.

So into 1942, the year in which  I would be 18 and, by the year’s end, I would probably be in the RAF. I asked for, and obtained, a further ten shillings rise in my wages to bring them to £2 per week (£1 each to my mother and myself). There was also the 6/8d every two weeks for firewatching at my father’s firm.  My duties at work were not difficult. I knew all of our customers, who were mostly small shopkeepers with one or two shops and caterers of all sizes from large West End hotels to coffee shops. (As wholesale provision merchants the company sold bacon, poultry, eggs, butter, cheese, margarine and all types of canned meats, vegetables and fruit.)  Customers had to register with us in accordance with rationing regulations and most of them paid at least one visit each week to the market to select their purchases.

On my 18th birthday I visited the Recruiting Centre and applied to join the RAF as a member of aircrew. After a brief medical I was told that I would be contacted within a few weeks.

In the ATC I was promoted to Flight Sergeant; I continued to enjoy playing rugby and managed to score at least one try every game; and in the early months of the year I won my first boxing trophy, as a middleweight, by knocking out my opponent in the second round with a right hook. The local paper ( South London Press) had a write-up about me and one of my uncles was so thrilled when he read it that he gave me a gold ring. Furthermore, the other winners and myself were called onto the stage of the Brixton Theatre during an evening performance to be given a round of applause. Furthermore, during the summer months I thoroughly enjoyed taking part in sprint races at athletic meetings and winning a few trophies.

ATC summer camp was held at RAF Upavon, Wiltshire where Sgt. Freddie Mills (a professional boxing champion) was stationed and I watched some of his daily training sessions. My “friends” told him that I boxed as an amateur so he invited me into the ring for a short sparring session. We both wore 16 oz. gloves and I led with my left in the approved fashion but every time I hit him he grinned, then he gave me a cuff round the ear which knocked me sideways. We continued sparring but the cuff round the ear was enough to warn me that I should be very circumspect as to whom I go into a ring with in future.

During that camp we had many air experience flights and, for the first time, I took over the controls of an Anson aircraft. I also experienced my first taste of cider from the barrel in a local pub.

The OHMS envelope arrived at last and the letter inside instructed me to report to RAF Cardington, Bedfordshire in late August for aircrew selection tests and a medical examination. I was required to take my overnight things as I would be there for 3 days.

The medical examination was very thorough and we were passed from one specialist to another. There were also written psychological tests and numerous other tests. The end result being that I was accepted for training as a pilot or navigator, given a number (1628035), required to swear an oath of allegiance to the Crown, given an RAFVR badge to wear and sent home on indefinite (unpaid) leave to continue with my civilian job until called for aircrew training but, in the meanwhile, authorised to wear a white flash on my ATC cap to denote that I have been accepted for aircrew training.

 My employer did not take too kindly to the fact that I might disappear into the RAF at any time (the lower age for conscription at that time was 19 and he thought that, as I was only 18,  I would be with him for another year). So, when one of the ledger clerks at the higher end of the conscription age bracket was called up,  a woman was appointed direct from the Employment Exchange to take over his ledger.  Ledger clerks were paid more than me and I had expected to be offered the job, so I asked to see the boss. When he told me his reasons I was so furious that I handed in my notice and immediately obtained a job as an accounts clerk at the HQ of the Navy, Army & Air Forces Institute (NAAFI for short)  in Kennington at the same salary. My task was to check the quarterly account books sent in by a number of NAAFI canteens in the Eastern region.  There was a big difference in the working environment between my previous job and the NAAFI, which employed many accounts clerks, both male and female, furthermore there were canteen facilities and a sports and social club, with dancing  on Saturday evenings.

I had previously gone to the Locano in Streatham on Saturday evenings to attend dances but now I started to go to the NAAFI dances in Kennington, within walking distance of home. The majority of those attending the NAAFI dances were colleagues I worked with and also the daughters of the older members of staff. I was 18 years old and a reasonable dancer ( I no longer trod on my partner’s toes) and I knew most of the girls so although I tried to play the field, attachments were made for short periods but  not long enough for me to be pinned down to letter writing etc. once I was called for aircrew training.

As the NAAFI HQ staff grew in number, additional premises were taken over and I was transferred to new offices in Brixton which had previously been a large furniture shop. Once again there was a staff canteen and a table tennis room which made Firewatching duties fairly pleasant occasions and, in addition to receiving a small payment for these duties, we were also given a good cooked breakfast. Only males did Firewatching duties but all staff were allowed the use of the table tennis room after office hours.

I continued to play rugby on  Saturday afternoons during the 1942/43 season and to box. Furthermore, at our ATC squadron HQ we established an N.C.O’s room which we N.C.Os  (I was a Flight Sergeant) were allowed to use every evening and a benefactor gave us a half size billiard table. Past members of the squadron, who were now in the RAF, visited our N.C.Os. room to consume the odd glass of beer.

 So into 1943 with the expectation that I would soon be called for aircrew training although some of my friends had been waiting much longer than me. NAAFI gave me a rise in pay and I was able to enjoy life.

The winter months slipped by together with my 19th birthday in May and, with the money given to me then, I purchased a Dunlop Blue Flash tennis racket. Once again, during the spring and early summer, I competed in sprint events at many athletic meetings, one of which still stands out in my memory for, after competing in the individual sprint races  (100 and 220 yards) and the two sprint relay races, I was told, as the team captain, that one of our members in the 4 x 440 yards relay event had strained himself and could not compete again that day. We had no reserve 440 yards runner, and as we had a good chance of winning the overall team prize, I decided to take the place of our injured member.  I told the other three members that I would run the last leg and, if we were in the lead at the changeover, I would do my best to hold it.  They ran their hearts out and the third runner handed over a lead to me, so I was off like a bomb to discourage the other runners and, although I was slowing down a bit at the end, we did win the race and the overall team prize. Whereupon my team hoisted me onto their shoulders and chaired me to the dressing room. This spontaneous action by them made me very proud.

We had our ATC camp at RAF Halton, Buckinghamshire and the RAF Officer in charge of the camp was Flt. Lt. Bernard Joy, a player with Arsenal Football Club. As a cadet Flight Sergeant I was given about 50 cadets to look after and we did the usual things one does at camp including flying.

At long last my instructions arrived to report the Aircrew Reception Centre at Lords Cricket Ground on Monday 2nd August 1943 - about a year after I had been accepted for aircrew training at RAF Cardington but, as I was to find out later, this was the usual length of delay. So I was on my way to be able to hit back after being dumped on my back by a bomb blast almost three years before.