by Joan Hall (nee Hawgood)
The tannoy blared (this was the loudspeaker system throughout the entire Training Camp). It was 5am, time to get up. This was the life I was going to have with 462 Squadron, 100 Group, Bomber Command at the Foulsham Aerodrome in East Anglia!
Cold!!! I don’t think I was ever so cold! We rushed to the ablutions, the toilets, washrooms, call them what you like. The room consisted of a long row of washbasins against one wall, toilets along the other. Thank goodness, there was hot water! We hurriedly wash and clean our teeth … with 45 minutes to do everything. Get dressed in full uniform, make beds according to regulations, be ready for inspection and Drill Square.
The beds, metal cots, had three pads used for the mattress, called ‘Biscuits’. Two sheets, a pillow and four dark grey blankets which were wool, thick heavy, and not that warm. The bed had to be stripped every morning and made up perfectly, but not the way one ordinarily makes a bed … oh no! First, blanket had to be folded exactly in four lengthwise and laid across the bottom of the bed. Then the three biscuits were stacked on top of this blanket, the corners of the biscuits had to match perfectly, before the three blankets were folded in four perfectly, then folded in threes and laid on top of the biscuits … then the sheets folded the same way, then the pillow. The first blanket needed to be brought up and around all this pile and overlapped on the top, perfectly! Oh my … what a to-do!! We had to stand by the side of our bed and hope all met with approval. Wow betide you if you got a demerit, which, of course, at the beginning happened to many of us. It was a ‘Mark against the whole Hut’. There would be a lot of competition between the huts. Ours was ‘C’ Hut.
The first day, we were issued with our uniforms, the underwear … oh my! I wonder how the modern generation would feel about our Air Force issue. It really was terrible, but of course, we wore it because we had to. We got very few clothing coupons while in the Service to buy anything else. It was considered ‘unnecessary’. We had shirts with detachable collars and black ties, blue cotton stockings and our shoes.
We were told how the shoes had to look at the end of the week … to see one’s ‘face’ in them, a slight exaggeration, but only slightly. The skirts had to be pressed like a box, which was achieved by putting them under the biscuits at night. Woe betide you if the biscuits moved during the night, then one’s skirt was a mass of wrinkles!
The shoes … it really was spit and polish! First, we applied black shoe polish, the thick paste type. Next, we put the poker into the pot-bellied stove until it was ‘Red Hot’. The poker was then rubbed all over the shoe, then brush-brush-brush … (I still have my Air Force- ssued shoe brush with Service Number on) as everything we owned had to have our number on it. Then we would spit … yep, sorry, but we did … spit and spit, and polish and polish. This would be done every night, hoping eventually the shine would please the Sergeant who conducted the Inspection. Of course, when the Officer came around, everything had better be perfect, from our lockers to the shine on the floor around our beds. Yes, we also had to wash and polish our own section of floor, on hands and knees … no maids in the Royal Air Force!
We spent three weeks in ‘Basic’ Training, learning how to march, to salute, the correct form of address to all the different ranks, and just trying to stay out of trouble. But that really was not all that difficult as, by the end of the day, we were all so tired we just wanted to go to bed, early, very early. I still have the photograph of our group from Hut C when we passed out of Training … oh how young we all looked, but then again, we were!!
Joan centre, 2nd row, in front of vertical pole
Then we were all off to different parts of the country to train for new jobs. I went to the North est coast of England along with a couple of other girls, but there were so many of us one lost touch. We were in the town of Blackpool, which in peacetime was a seaside resort, with many Bed & Breakfast houses. These are where we were billeted with no other accommodation for us. It seemed as if there were thousands of us, but I have no idea how many there were.
For three months, every day but Sunday, we were learning Morse Code. Sitting there, tapping it out, dah dah dit, dit dah dah … then trying to understand it as it came over our headsets. Hours and hours, days and days of Morse Code, also mechanical training on radio sets we would use later. How they were put together, what made them work, what kind they were, how to fix them if they failed.
We then took our 1st Exam, and if we passed, we went on for further training. I really don’t know how I passed … but I did! I was sent to Wiltshire, to an Airdrome for three months further training. This seemed to be somewhat easier. At least we thought we knew what we were doing. We soon found out otherwise, as the Morse became faster and faster, both sending and receiving, and we had to know even more about radio sets. Eventually, I ‘Passed Out’ and was assigned to an aerodrome in Norfolk – Foulsham. 462 Squadron, Group 100 of RAF Bomber Command. I was in England a few years ago and told by a lady born in Foulsham that the drome has been demolished and now covered with houses everywhere. Sounds normal, doesn’t it!
Additional Foulsham Information from Jack Smith Notes:
‘RAF Foulsham was a wartime ‘drome built on the edge of Foulsham village. It was in 100 Group Special Duties) as opposed to 5 (?) Group at Driffield, (sic – 4 Group) which was part of the main bomber force. The other Squadron on the ‘drome was … RAF 192 (BS) Squadron, 100 Group, Bomber Command, with some RCAF crew members. There was also a detachment of USAAF aircraft and crews under the control of 192 Squadron for a time.’
We had Lancaster bombers at Foulsham and our mission was to cut up communications with aluminium foil (called ‘Window’) and we flew day and night. We had both British and Australian crews, along with all the airmen and women that made it tick. The quota was 4000 airmen. I don’t know if that figure was ever met. The quota was 104 airwomen, but the most we ever had was 94. We worked in shifts in the Signals Cabin, four days on duty, and one and a half days off. Our shift started at midnight till 7am. Then we’d cycle back to our hut four miles away and sleep until 3pm. We’d eat, cycle back to Signals, and remain on duty from 5pm till midnight, before cycling back to sleep … on at noon until 5pm; cycle home, free evening … back to Signals at 8am until noon, off for 36 hours. The beautiful part about Signals was that we were excused all drills and inspections. Out of the twelve of us in the hut, someone was always sleeping. But we had a good life, and amazingly, we all got along very well.
Foulsham aerodrome w 2 friends & dog. Joan is left of the picture.
Additional Base Info from Jack Smith’s notes:
‘Most of our ops consisted of ‘Spoof Raids’, intended to create as much confusion as possible for German Air Defences, and to divert attention – on some occasions – away from Bomber Command’s main force target area. Various ploys were used: the most common was for a Pathfinder Force to mark out the Target Area with parachute flares if cloudy, or ground marking green and red flares if clear. A small force of planes from our Station and others in the Group would be used to bomb the area. We would carry a relatively small bomb load, and a considerable amount of ‘Window’ – foil strips showing up on German Radar. The ‘Window’ was thrown out of the plane by a ‘spare bod’, an additional crew member; to give an impression of a much larger force.’
We were surrounded by American Air Bases, and of course, there were very few young women in this part of the country other than at the other two aerodromes. As a result, we were invited to all the dances at American Bases, and if we were off duty, we went. We were plied with food, drinks, cigarettes (impossible for us to obtain) and good dances. The Americans would send trucks for us and we piled into the back of them and away we went for a fun evening.
Our pay was not very much and, if I remember, I received 30 shillings a week, but I allowed Mum half of this. By now, Daddy had died, and Mum still had to pay the rent and everything else. She had only her salary and the allowance from my sister Phyllis also in the RAF and my allowance. I collected only $6 every two weeks, but it was enough for the little I had to spend it on.
First Leave w sister, Mum & brother
A friend and I often used to go into Norwich when we had 36 hours off. It was about 18 miles away as the crow flies, but about 45 by train. We used to stay the night at the YMCA as a bed was one shilling, including breakfast. While there, we would either go to the Show or dancing at the Norwich Dance Hall called ‘Samson and Delilah’. Ask any American who was stationed in that part of the country – they were all at the Dance Hall, or in the pub, but that took a little more money.
It was either 1944 or early 1945, I’m not sure now, but for some time we had ‘V1s’, those horrible little buzz bombs, being shot at us by the Germans. One could hear them as they putted across the sky, seldom see them, but if one heard the put-put stop, it was time to get down and pray – for as soon as the engine stopped, they would come straight down at a 90-degree angle and destroy whatever they hit. How we feared and hated them and the terrible damage they did!! Then came the V-2s, bigger and more menacing and we could not hear them coming. They came, while their engines or whatever was propelling them stopped. Down they came without warning! Whatever they hit was destroyed as well as much of the surroundings.
It was a V-2 that did our house in. Mother had been out doing her shopping. Well, anyway, she was gone from home and when she came back, the street a block away was cordoned off. The police stopped mother and told her she could not go through. ‘But I live on Judd Street’, she said. ‘Well, lady,’ said the policeman, ‘Good luck! I don’t know how much you have left!!’ The house was still standing as the V-2 had dropped half a block away, but the roof was gone, the ceilings were all down in our rooms, windows were gone, frames and everything … What a mess!! Mother told us later she just stood there and cried.
The Council found her a small apartment in a few days, better than what we had had for over 20 years, and I presume they helped move her. Mother stayed in this apartment until sometime in the 1950s when new apartments were built in London. Of course, she was one of the first to get one as she had been bombed out. However, in this apartment we had our own toilet, but no kitchen as the cooking stove was in the hallway. The table Mother had to do all her work on Berkley, was built on a sort of dropleaf table on the back of the toilet door opposite the sink. We had a living-room and two bedrooms … so we were in clover!
May 1945 – VE Day! Oh my … what a day that was!!
I had a 48-hour Pass and was going to London. What a wild city! Everyone was dancing in the streets, especially in Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly, flags flying everywhere. The war in Europe was over!!!!!!!
Soon after VE Day, I was in the Signals Cabin and our Warrant Officer came in asking: ‘Do you want to go on a reconnaissance?’ I just looked at him. ‘Me? Fly?’ ‘Be at Dispersal at 0800 hours,’ he said. I couldn’t believe it. But I was there in the morning. I had on my Service gear with slacks and jacket to keep warm. The guns had all been removed to improve visibility and allow cameras to be mounted. You must realise that no-one knew what roads, bridges or rail lines were still intact – or how supplies were going to get to their needed destinations.
I flew for over eight hours with an Aussie crew. All over Holland, I saw where the Dutch had destroyed their own dykes when invaded. We flew over Germany. At Cologne, I vividly remember bridges all bombed and down in the river I think there were four. We also flew over Dresden (which we had been criticised for bombing … the Air Boss should have flattened it completely!). I do not remember now all the countries we flew over, but there were many.
When we crossed the English Channel at the beginning of the journey, I crawled down into the nose where the Front Gunner was flat on his belly with nothing but plexi-glass around him. I climbed into the upper turret, again, nothing but glass. I did not climb down into the rear turret … too claustrophobic for me! I sat in the Signals Cabin, so tiny. I went all over the plane. We flew back over France and Dover. When we landed and I was once more on solid ground, all I could think was: ‘My God, the courage of these men, some so young, who flew on these missions, with the ack-ack against them, the German fighter planes shooting at them. How did they do it?’ I have never forgotten it.
After VE Day with Radio Operators no longer needed, I was classified ‘Redundant’. I was transferred to St Athan’s, an airdrome in South Wales where the Air Force trained Engineers and non-commissioned Officers, as well as Ground Airmen. It was a very large air base and a peacetime base. I think it is still there, but I have not been back. On arriving at St Athan’s, I was asked what I did in civilian life and when I told them I was a shorthand typist, I hit the jackpot! The Squadron Leader in charge of all engineering trainees needed a Secretary. Well, I got the job and stayed in that position until I was demobbed from the Royal Air Force in July 1946.
By this time, I knew I was coming to America and had applied for a Visa … my, what a time it took! I had also, in 1946, applied for a seat on a plane to the U.S.A. and acquired one for August 1946 which was amazing as planes were few and far between. However, this passage had to be cancelled as my Visa did not arrive in time.
I then started to put my name down on all the shipping lines, which also were few, while waiting to hear about my Visa. One day, while waiting at the American Embassy, I met a new friend, Betty Watkins. Her father was a BBC Producer of radio shows and we started going many places together. We eventually managed to get a passage on the ‘John Erickson’, an American ship, but then there was a strike in the USA, and this was cancelled just a week before we sailed.
Back to the Visa for a minute. As it was all moving along, we were required to have a complete Physical at the Embassy by an American, Dr Mine from New York. He looked at my papers and said: ‘You are going to Kansas????’ ‘Yes’, I said. ‘Do you have a dog’, he asked? ‘No’, I said. ‘Well, good!’ said he. ‘There are no trees in Kansas.’ Did he really believe this, I wonder?
Another problem surfaced regarding the Visa. I was demobbed from the RAF, but NOT discharged. It meant I could be recalled if necessary. Now, the Visa people told me: ‘We must have your complete discharge or there will be no Visa issued to you’. So, I wrote to the RAF that I must have my Discharge as I was going to America and needed to get my Visa. The RAF wrote back: ‘Yes, we will be pleased to give you a complete discharge as soon as you have a Visa’. Oh my! Red Tape and Bureaucracy!! Well, I eventually got my Visa – valid for just four months.
After our passage on the ‘John Erikson’ was cancelled, we decided we needed to get a job, and Betty knew people at Equity (the Actors and Models Union). We went there and low and behold, even without Equity Cards, we got jobs (as her father was a Film Director). Report to Denham Studios on Monday 7 October at 9am for modelling and bit parts. My first experience with: ‘It’s not WHAT you know … but WHO you know!!’
Excitement … Saturday morning, 5 October 1946. A telegram from the Shipping Office: ‘… we are sailing aboard the S.S. Washington, leaving Southampton Monday 7 October.’ I’ve wondered a few times what might have happened if we had not sailed, and reported instead to Denham Studios?
But as it was, we sailed for America. You simply cannot imagine the excitement. I guess Mum was crying at the railway station, I really do not remember. I was young and I was off to a ‘New World’. We boarded the ship, travelling under wartime conditions. One enormous cabin for about 80 women, if I remember rightly, with tier bunks. There was no privacy, but we didn’t care. As soon as the ship sailed, we changed some of our money, then tried to begin to understand all the new American coins. Each of us had managed to save $100 US Dollars which we had with us. My first experience with the money was buying a carton of cigarettes. When I was told they would be ‘One Five’ I thought they meant $105 Dollars. Not $1.05. I said to Betty: ‘Things are going to be expensive in America’. I’m sure glad I was wrong!!
We were blessed on our voyage to make the acquaintance of three businessmen from Washington. They worked for the Hudson Bay Fur Company and this was their first business trip to establish post-war fur trade with Britain. They were all very polite to us and had a private supply of liquor with them (which was NOT available on the ship). So, we were very privileged each evening to have after-dinner drinks which they generously offered. One night, at our dinner table which had assigned seating, one of the other male passengers was making snide comments about the three men. I didn’t understand why. After dinner, talking to Betty, I was informed that, as the three businessmen were Jewish, many others would not like them.
This was my first experience with post-war prejudice!
Joan
Winifred Joan Hall (nee Hawgood)
Veteran WAAF at RAF Foulsham
This article is from the Summer 2019 issue of Confound and Destroy
