All badges of rank were required to be removed, RAF Regiment flashes sewn above eagles on jackets and battle dress blouses, white patches sewn onto the shoulders of jackets and wrapped around the shoulder straps of battle dress blouses and white discs placed behind cap badges.  The Nissan huts were heated, as usual, by a coke stove in the centre of each hut and we shared a Cadet mess with cadets from two senior courses.

Our course subjects included weapons training on the rifle, bren, sten, grenade, anti-tank projector, 2” mortar and 3” mortar; fieldcraft tactics in attack and defence; administration; leadership and man management; and, above all, drill under the eagle eye of a major seconded from a Guards regiment.  Drill was the very first priority as we were required to take part, with the two senior courses, in an Armistice Day parade in Grantham on 11th November.

Most of the training took place out of doors and, as it was winter, our bodies were truly toughened up. There were as many exercises as there were cadets in each of the two Flights in which we had been divided and, for these exercises, the position of leader was given to each and everyone of us in turn.  My particular leadership exercise was of the map reading cum treasure hunt type where we were provided with an initial  clue which, when solved, led to the next clue a few miles away, and so on. We were divided into small sections with me leading a section of five others and we were each provided with a heavy RAF bicycle, without lights, as transport. The exercise started after an early lunch but, within the first couple of hours, it became apparent that we were not going to finish before darkness set in. However, we forced on and became one of only two out of ten teams which successfully completed the exercise. At one point, after dark, during the exercise, there was a smell of freshly baked bread which was so inviting, after cycling for four hours, that we followed the smell to its source, getting hungrier every minute. Outside a country cottage stood a baker’s van so we bought three large freshly baked loaves, tore them in half and the six of us sat against a hedge, in the dark, and ate every piece.

Food in sufficient quantity was essential to us with all the outdoor activities but rationing was still in force and, although bread was available in plenty in the Mess, butter and jam were not, so on Saturday afternoons we used to hunt around the shops in Grantham for jars and cartons of peanut butter and chocolate spread etc. which we ate on toasted bread.

I played rugby every week and was taught to ride a motor cycle but I did not have time to continue my correspondence course and I let it lapse. Although the training was hard and demanding it had an element of competition which I enjoyed and I was one of the 50% of those who started the course to make graduation.

So to graduation day when I was commissioned as a Pilot Officer and an extra proud mother made the journey from London to watch the passing out parade on a cold March morning in 1946. After a formal lunch in the Cadets Mess we travelled back to London together and the start of a new life for me which I expected, at the time, would last for just a year but which lasted for 16 years.

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Following a period of leave at home I boarded a continental ferry in Hull bound for Cuxhaven to take up a post in Germany.  The passage took 36 hours and, although the sea was rough, I was one of the few who enjoyed the meals on board, especially the newly baked white bread rolls served with breakfast after all the wholemeal bread to which we had all become accustomed during the years of rationing.

We stayed in Hamburg for a few days whilst our postings being were sorted out and, naturally, during that time, I made a tour of the city.  It was damaged far more than I had imagined and, in some parts, I was surprised that any life existed at all, but it did.

From Hamburg to the HQ of the British Air Forces of Occupation ( BAFO for short) at Bad Eilsen where I joined my first RAF Regiment Squadron ( No. 2865) as a Flight Commander. The other squadron officers and all the N.C.Os and airmen were wartime Regiment types and, in addition to being the new boy, I was also the youngest of them all. The Commanding Officer was Squadron Leader “Johnny” Blake, the Second-in-Command was Flight Lieutenant “Pop” Hannan, and the Adjutant was Flying Officer “Jock” Conner. There were four Flights but only one had a Flight Commander at the time of my arrival and he was Flying Officer Bill Newton, although, within a few weeks, we were joined by Flying Officer Reggie Morse and Pilot Officer Kep Axford.

The squadron had the task of providing sentries and security patrols for B.A.F.O HQ and also for the residence of the Commander-in-Chief.  These duties were not arduous and airmen were leaving almost daily for demobilisation. Every departure was preceded by a “demob party” the evening before and, as other squadrons in Germany closed down, so their remaining airmen were posted to us until the newcomers themselves were demobilised. Life for all of us was unreal.  The Germans were short of food and most other things as well, whereas we had food in plenty, even if it was “compo rations” together with a liberal allowance of alcohol and cigarettes. Our squadron’s Officers Mess had been a small private Guest House and its owners continued to live on the ground floor whilst we had the first and second floors.  We were well looked after and, on my 22nd birthday, a party was held to celebrate it. So different to my 21st at Mildenhall, my 20th at Cranwell and my 19th at home before being called for aircrew training.

The currency in which we were paid, and which was in use within Messes and the NAAFI etc., was the same as the German population used in their shops - the German Mark and the rate of exchange was 40 Marks to £1.  Germans would pay 100 Marks for a packet of cigarettes and illegal trading for goods and services between servicemen and Germans was based on this rate of exchange. Such illegal trading was curtailed on the introduction, in August 1946, of a separate currency for servicemen named British Armed Forces Special Vouchers (BAFSVs for short) based on Sterling and not the German Mark, which were then used in Messes and the NAAFI etc.

An athletic meeting in June/July for all RAF personnel serving in Germany was announced and I decided to take part but, as I had not done any serious running for 3 years and had concentrated on enjoying life’s pleasures during my time in Germany, I had to do a crash course to get fit.  This meant getting up early and running two or three miles before breakfast and carrying out a series of exercises.  Much to the amusement of the Mess orderlies.

Come the day and I was the runner-up in both the sprint finals.  Unknown to me, however, one of the V.I.P. spectators was the Command RAF Regiment Officer, Brigadier James VC, DSO, MC. It appears that he turned to his Personal Assistant, who I had previously met in the Mess, and said “Don’t I know that young fellow?” On being told that I was a flight commander on the local squadron he said, “If he got rid of some of that weight and was fitter he could be good “.  So he had words with an Army friend of his and, within days, I was on my way to the Army School of Physical Training in Germany to attend an Army Physical Fitness Officer’s training course.

That course was three glorious and enjoyable weeks spent in P.T. gear and a track suit in the middle of summer. I was taught all the physical training exercises in use by the army and had to go round their “Confidence Area” a couple of times each week. This “Confidence Area” was a type of Assault Course but 20 feet above the ground so that one was forever jumping into space to grab ropes. If I had been on my own I don’t think that I would have tackled it once, let alone half a dozen times, but I was surrounded by Army types, so I did it.  In addition I was given instruction in field and track events by a coach to the 1936 German Olympic Team so that, by the end of the course, I had acquired the basic knowledge for training in these events.  I also received personal coaching to improve my own sprinting.

Furthermore, after theoretical and practical instruction, I was examined on my knowledge of the Laws of Association Football and the Rules of  Amateur  Boxing which resulted in the award of an F.A. Referees Certificate and an I.S.B.A. Boxing Judges Certificate. Both of these were to become very useful in the years ahead but I did not know it at the time.

Back to the squadron at Bad Eilsen full of enthusiasm to keep in training and produce some really fast times in sprint events the following year. I also started playing tennis again having brought my racket with me from home.

During my absence, the squadron had received its first post war National Servicemen and there were further intakes until all our wartime airmen who had been demobilised were replaced. We also had two National Service officers posted to us. The squadron’s N.C.Os were mostly wartime airmen who had signed on for extra service.

Johnny Blake left us and Squadron Leader Hanford took over as Squadron Commander just before we received orders to move the squadron with all its personnel, vehicles and equipment from Bad Eilsen to Gatow, Berlin.  The drive to Berlin in convoy took best part of 16 hours, with stops every two hours, and it rained for most of the time. I travelled in the passenger seat of a Jeep with no side protection and was soaked through to my skin by the time we arrived in the late afternoon of a September day.