STORIES
Over the years that our Association has been formed, the Committee, via the regular newsletters, asked members to send in stories of their experiences, or incidents, which they thought would be of interest. The response was overwhelming and there were enough stories to form a book. Ben Mitchell put the stories together and edited them ready for publishing. A publisher read the stories and was shown many of the photographs which are on file, and agreed to publish them. Sam Bugg and Ben Mitchell liaised with the publisher and Sam was involved with the content and design of the front and rear covers, and which photographs to include. The Committee thought it would be fitting to include on the web site, periodically, a story from the book about some of the many escapades which the 51st got up to either during their apprenticeship or the remainder of their service career, this one is by Joe Woodford.
A MIDDLE EAST SAFARI BY LAND, SEA AND AIR
By
Joe Woodford
The Empire Ken – in the summer of 1951 - en route for Mombasa. It was an ex-German ship, one of three which had been converted to troopship duties, with a speed of around 12 knots. We sailed from Southampton Docks, across a comparatively calm Bay of Biscay, then through the Straits of Gibraltar. I can recall seeing small rowing boats fishing in the Straits and I didn’t envy them having to row back to whichever shore they had come from. The Mediterranean was very rough, and according to the matelots on board they had never seen it so bad. Many of the troops on board were seasick, and the Mess Deck cooks recommended greasy bacon and toast for breakfast to combat the seasickness! Anyway, when I went down for breakfast, there were only half-a-dozen of us eating toasted bacon sandwiches and thankfully I was all right. I never did find out if the recommended breakfast was a joke or not.
Our first stop was Port Said, where we picked up the Canal Pilot and his so called ‘look-out’, who was an Arab who was to be seated in a small box suspended from the bow. While he was waiting to go into his box, he squatted down and heated some opium in a tin lid and inhaled the smoke coming from it. I think he had to be doped to get him in the box! We then sailed through the Suez Canal on to our next stop - Aden. Here I went ashore and found a shop which sold Mah Jong sets (Game of the Four Winds). I bought one for enjoyment on the remainder of the journey. In Aden, I met an ex-brat of the 52nd Entry who I promised to write to. His number was 582853 J/T ............... and it was then I boobed. I put my name down instead of his! The rest of his address was “3 Block, Top West, RAF Khormaksar. (I have just found that piece of paper with this address on, so can anybody out there help me to find him?) At Aden, two Army chaps joined the ship, one from Rhodesia and one from the Belgian Congo. I soon struck up a relationship with them and they had been fighting the guerrillas in Malaya alongside the Gurkhas. They told us a lot about the war out there which would fill a couple of pages.
Next stop was Port Louis in Mauritius. Here, another chap and I decided to climb the hill, or mountain, behind the town. When we arrived at the foot of it, the other chap chickened out. So off I set and reached the top after brushing through various cactii plants, collecting a few prickly hairs en route. At the top, it was flat with numerous cactii and bushes, so I decided to explore and whoops - within 30 ft the escarpment ended abruptly, with a sheer drop to a fertile valley below. I was very pleased that it was daylight, for there was no indication or barriers. I laid on my stomach to peer over the edge, but not for long as I am not a great one for heights. While at the top I watched the strange looking birds gliding in the thermals. They looked like small magpies, but they didn’t have tail feathers, instead they had a long quill over a foot long, which they used as stabilizers. I don’t know if those birds were unique to Mauritius or not. I started the descent and when I arrived at the bottom there was a small park with a hut nearby. It started to rain heavily, so I ran towards the hut and went in to find it was already occupied by three or four locals. Whilst waiting for the storm to clear, an old man sitting next to me kept saying “La femme, very young, only 12, you like, I get?” “No, no. Thank you” I said politely and hurriedly departed. Wandering down the main street I heard a familiar sound, the sound of Mah Jong tiles. I went up some steps and found myself in a Mah Jong gaming hall. There were at least a dozen card tables, all with linoleum tops to facilitate the easy movement of the tiles. It was then I realised that it was a gambling den and they asked me if I would like to play. I naturally declined but asked if I could stay and watch them. They nodded and I stayed quite a while and was astounded at the speed in which they played the game and realised how lucky I was in declining their invitation to play. I would have lost!
It was time for me to return to the ship, but not before I stood under a drain pipe from which water was pouring after running off a roof. You know the feeling, you are already soaked from the tropical downpour, so why not get thoroughly wet and cool off at the same time. That night, back on board, one of my companions used my tweezers to remove some of the hairs from the cactii plants from my body. I was covered with them and it took several days to get rid of them all. I now treat cactii plants with a lot of respect! The next day the Army took some of us to a sandy coral reef beach, where as usual there are always some people who want to be first in the water. The trucks stopped and even before the tailboards were lowered, people jumped out with their trunks on and made a dash for the shore line and dived in. Their efforts were short lived - they stood up in the water with their chests spurting blood. The water was only about 18 inches deep with a coral floor! Some of the party went climbing for coconuts, but after struggling to break them open, they sheepishly asked the watching local natives to help them. They did, by breaking them using the edge of a sawn off tree trunk. The Army lads had been trying to break them open by banging them on the flat table of the tree trunk!
Our final port of call was Mombasa, where the following day we were to disembark for RAF Eastleigh, Nairobi. We watched the Army lads disembark first and they headed for the ‘cattle trucks’ to start their journey by rail. We then asked when were the RAF personnel going to disembark. We eventually discovered that the senior RAF Officer i/c had inspected the ‘cattle trucks’, which were carriages with wooden slat seating, and he had decided that this form of transport was not up to white mans standards for a 2 day crossing of semi desert to Nairobi. He then phoned RAF Eastleigh and requested air transport for the following day. Fortunately for the Brylcream Boys, the pongos had already departed and were not aware that we were going to fly! After a night on the town in Mombasa, the following day we flew to Eastleigh and on the way we spotted the train still chugging along! On arrival, we were left to fend for ourselves, to find the Mess, to sort out where to sleep and to search out the Bedding Store. The next morning the CO called us to a ‘welcoming’ meeting and after preliminaries, and was foolish enough to ask “Any complaints?”. In typical ex-brat fashion, I simply mentioned the fact that we had arrived, totally unexpected and had to organise ourselves. At the time, my complaint was answered, and as far as I knew - end of story. A week or two later, the Ops Room secretly let me know that my tapes had been substantiated, because for the past two years I had been paid as Acting Cpl. I thought that was great and waited for the call from the Orderly Room. A week later I received a message to report to the CO’s office. “Woodford, you have been posted to the Canal Zone and you will leave as soon as possible”. I naturally queried the posting, and he said “I don’t like you and I don’t want you on my Station, so I have got you posted to the Canal Zone”. “What about my stripes Sir?”. “Yes, they have arrived, but I am certainly not going to give them to you. They may reach you sometime, somewhere, now get out”. I think this was in November/December 1951.
I had an interesting flight up to the Canal Zone in a Dakota, sitting on the floor and using the aircraft fuselage as a back rest. I think we stopped three times en route - Jubba in the jungle, Khartoum and Wadi Haifa on the banks of the Blue or White Nile. The worst take-off was at Wadi Haifa, at least, I think it was Wadi Haifa. The pilot said “Don’t worry. I’ve done this many times” as we raced towards a sheer cliff face at the end of the runway, and, seeing the skyline disappear and the cliff face filling the windscreen, he pulled back on the stick and we just missed the cliff top. He said “I hope you enjoyed that one!”. We had a nice stop-over in Khartoum - it was the only place I have ever tasted sarsaparilla - lovely. On arrival in Egypt I went to 107 MU Kasfareet and it was as if the hate campaign against me had followed me, because I was picked on and hassled most of the time. I even studied navigation in case I could steal one of the Meteors on the drome and fly home! I was desperate, then I was picked on once again and that was when I told them in no uncertain terms what they could all do to themselves and the Air Force! Two years earlier they had refused my application to buy myself out, now I was being discharged on medical grounds for free. At the last minute, they asked me what would persuade me to stay in. I told them that many times I had applied for pilot training, so they put this to whoever adjudicated on these matters and the reply came back “If it was wartime, he is just the chap we are looking for, but in peacetime we could not take the risk of trusting him with a few million pounds worth of aircraft!”. I flew back to the UK in a York via Luqa, and it was a bumpy ride all the way to Northolt. It was then on to Halton Hospital, and, after seven years to the day, I was set free and went back to college to study as a Mechanical Engineer and graduated in 1957.
THE BOOK
POST WAR BRATS AT LARGE
This book contains a collection of stories written by members of the 51st Entry of RAF Aircraft Apprentices, often referred to as “Trenchard’s Brats” after their founder, Marshal of the RAF the Viscount Trenchard. It covers the years since they, 252 young men, joined the RAF in 1945, six days after the end of the Second World War, and includes stories from their 3-year Apprenticeship, throughout their subsequent RAF careers and into retirement as senior citizens.
There are some amusing and incredible tales from their Apprentice days - beating the system without getting caught (but not always!) was a popular pastime. When they were finally ‘at large’, many of the Entry left their basic trades and were trained as aircrew and inevitably some of the more exciting stories relate to their flying experiences. Some, unfortunately, did not survive to tell their tales.
Service overseas is another source of interesting experiences, although sadly many of these postings are no longer available to the RAF personnel of today. Nevertheless, these stories provide a worthwhile insight into Service life away from home, as it was from the late 1940’s to early 1980’s.
Sixty years on, the former apprentices of the 51st Entry still have many more stories to tell, and no doubt some emerged during the Diamond Anniversary Reunion which was held at RAF Halton on 21st August 2005, in honour of which this book is being published.
This book will be of considerable interest to members of the 51st Entry and other RAF Aircraft Apprentices, their families and friends. It should also appeal to those who have never served, but have an interest in the history of military aviation and the Royal Air Force.
The Book (ISBN 1-903953-93-6) priced at £15-00 plus p&p, is obtainable from :-
| Woodfield Publishing, |
| Mail Order Department |
|
Babsham Lane, |
| Bognor Regis, |
| West Sussex, |
| PO21 5EL |
| Telephone 01243 821234 |
| or on the net at www.woodfieldpublishing.com |
BOOKS
CHRIS ASHWORTH- AVIATION HISTORIAN
In the RAF he was Joe - a nick-name acquired in Block 15 Room 5, but it was as Chris Ashworth that he became a significant Aviation Historian. Few of us realised that Joe began the hobby of collecting information and photographs of aircraft, airfields etc., at quite any early age - probably as an ATC cadet before Halton. We were aware that he owned a camera - a rare sight amongst Apprentices in 1945 - and some of us saw several of his pictures. That early start became “...a great passion of his...” (RAeS) and led to a massive collection of books, magazines, articles & photographs which eventually filled three rooms in his home!!
It was the title “Chris Ashworth Collection” of a two page article in a recent Aerospace Professional magazine, published by the Royal Aeronautical Society (RAeS), which caught the attention of a member of the 51st Entry and prompted further interest in the works of Joe/Chris. The RAeS article listed “... a large number of typescripts recording the development of a number of British civil and military types (particularly detailed in their records of individual aircraft histories and squadron allocations) ...” and “... are a mine of information for anyone researching aircraft or squadrons ...”.
Many of these typescripts were articles which Chris contributed to aviation magazines over the years.
With the help of Margaret Ashworth, it has been possible to put together a summary of Chris’s remarkable collection which included : 4,000+ Books & Magazines - 3,500+ Archive files - 80,000+ photographs from Bristol Fighter to Nimrod ( many originals taken by Chris), and 132,000+ negatives, slides, plates etc.
The Ashworth family decided that the wealth of information contained within the collection would be of value to many other aviation enthusiasts - even though this would, sadly, lead to the break up of the collection. Auctioneers, Dominic Winter, sold Chris’s library of books and his photographic collection at specialist Collectors Sales in May & November 2005 and May 2006.
Chris continued his writing when he retired from the RAF in 1977. In addition to his many magazine articles, Chris published several mini monographs including: Gloster Meteor PR Mk10, De Havilland Comet & Avro York in RAF Service, Avro Shackleton MR Mk3, Vickers Valiant, Bristol Brigand, Airfield Focus St Eval & Kinloss.
His major written and published books are:
| Action Stations: 5. Military airfields of the South West - 266pp (ISBN 085059510X)
|
| Action Stations: 9. Military Airfields of the Central South and South East - 328pp (ISBN 0850596084)
|
| Encyclopaedia of Modern Royal Air Force Squadrons - 210pp (ISBN 1852600136) |
| RAF Coastal Command 1936-1969 - 256pp (ISBN 1852603453) |
RAF Bomber Command 1936-1968 - 256pp (ISBN 1852603089) |
Avro’s Maritime Heavyweight; The Shackleton - 224pp (ISBN 0946627169) |
Below are just four covers from his major works.
Many of these Monographs and Books are still in print and available new & used from specialist book sellers.The following is a quotation from Chris’s Introduction to one of his books and is typical of the detail and enthusiasm which he gave to his work:
“My first sight of south-east England was the best possible - from the air on a beautiful August day. It was pure chance, for I was just one of many ATC cadets camping at Bircham Newton during the summer of 1944 and when my air experience flight came up it was not in the usual Dominie biplane, but in a Wellington XIII which was flying to Manston and back. I was put in the front turret out of the way and off we went across East Anglia and over the Thames Estuary. The thing I remember most about the flight was the fright I got when a P-47 Thunderbolt attacked us head-on. So convinced was I that it was a Fw 190 that had I known how to switch on the fully-loaded turret I might even have tried to open fire!”
SUPERSTAR- THE FAMILY GOES TO SEA
This is the title of the book written by Eric Mold and was
published in October 1996. The book tells the story of how
Eric & Vera sold up their wordly possessions, bought a boat
with the proceeds and set out for a life on the sea.
It begins with them sailing out of the Solent, with little or
no experience of sailing on the high seas, and ending up 4 years
later in the Caribbean via the Mediterranean as veteran sailors
and running a successful charter boat business. If you would
like to purchase a copy of the book, its reference is
Ident No. ISBN 85200 066X, and was available (in 1996) from
United Writers Publications Ltd, Ailsa Castle Gate, Penzance,
Cornwall TR20 8BG at a cost of £15.95, or alternately borrow it
from your local library.
