 I arrived at Newark railway station. There was a sign telling new recruits where to wait for the RAF bus to camp. There was quite a few of us but we didn't have to wait long until a 39 seater RAF coach pulled up and we all got on. We arrived at Swinderby camp and a corporal boarded the bus. He handed out small forms that we had to put our name and date of birth on. "I haven't got a pen," I said. He went crazy and started shouting and bawling at me. I felt like giving the skinny runt a slap, but good sense prevailed and someone had a spare pen anyway so it was all right, or so I thought. We got off the bus and lined up. The corporal walked along with this nasty looking sergeant and stopped by me. "You'll have to watch this one sergeant, he's a trouble maker," he said.The sergeant started screaming down my ear about sorting out troublemakers. It was of course an act. They probably pull someone up on every intake to show who's boss. It could have been someone chewing gum or whistling or perhaps calling the corporal corp. When I said I hadn't got a pen it was like giving a cue to start the show.
The training was much the same as seen in films on the TV. It was hard work getting fit but once you are there, it feels great. The food was not very nice though, just about eatable.
A couple of weeks into the training and I made a boob. I had locked my keys inside my locker. We were in our battledress and after our tea break we were sent back to change into our number one dress for drill on the square. So there I was in my battledress on the square, with the rest of the fight in their best uniform. The sergeant made a bee-line towards me. I told him that I locked my key in before he had chance to start shouting. Follow me," was all he said, and he left the corporal in charge of the drill. We marched across to the block at breakneck speed looking like a couple of cartoon characters. When we got there he took a screwdriver from his room and then set about removing the back from the wardrobe. I got the key and got changed while he replaced the back. We marched back and rejoined the flight, it wasn't mentioned again, I was quite surprised.
The drill instructors, (D.I,s) seemed to know who they wanted out after the first week. There was two lads that they wanted out and they made their lives hell. The smallest mistake and they amplified it out of all proportion. We all got an ear bashing now and then, but they picked on these two all the time. One left after a couple of weeks, but the other one really wanted to be in the RAF and tried to keep up with the rest.
We were on parade and one of the corporals told us that we were going to make camp in Sherwood Forest for a couple of days. "It's not compulsory, those that don't want to go can stay here with Corporal Jones. He want's the toilets cleaned and some painting done. Anyone who doesn't want to go to camp, take one pace forward." The sergeant had joined us and they both walked over to the lad that they wanted out, they began shouting at him. "You don't really want to go do you?" After a few minutes of verbal abuse and prompting, he stepped forward. He was still on camp when we got back from the forest, but he left soon afterwards.
The week before our passing out parade, our flight had to back up the previous week's intake on their parade. It was a nice day with plenty of sun. It all went well and we had a fly past of three Vulcan Bombers. It was a very impressive fly past, these three giant delta wing aircraft flying low over the parade ground, but the noise was astounding.
Unfortunately, when we had our parade it was raining so we had to have the parade inside the drill hanger, so we lost the fly past.
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