but getting home by the most expeditious route in the minimum of time, and back again, proved equally taxing. I even managed the journey one weekend on a 36 hour pass. The effort was worthwhile because I came back to camp with two pounds in my pocket from my father. That helped ease my financial straits. Most other Cadets sought, and were given, similar parental assistance. On the evening of our return one of the Cadets, Pete Deuchar (son of a whisky distillery executive) brought a bottle which was shared round the barrack room (quite illegally) and drunk from our pint mugs.6
Drill instruction was always carried out late in the afternoon, before tea. At that time of year it was dusk if not dark. Our 'parade ground' was between two hangars which, to some extent, sheltered us from the wind but created echoes through which we had to interpret Cpl. Brown's orders.7 I have to say that towards the end of the course he was actually giving us praise for our proficiency - a rare accolade indeed.
Wednesday afternoons were devoted to sport and physical exercise. It was at Digby that I played my first game of hockey in the RAF. It was more of a shambles than a game and had the Flt.Sgt. PTI in fits of laughter at our antics.8 He soon brought us to order and taught us how properly to play the game.
The weather that January was bitterly cold with a sharp wind across the Lincolnshire plain when we started flying. The planes were nothing more modern than De Havilland DH82a Tiger Moths, two-seater, open cockpit, biplanes. Our instructors were civilian ex-RAF pilots, and their job was to assess our airborne capabilities. Two of our number were always airsick, so they got the chop from the course. Others, even though they had passed the tests at Hornchurch, had no spatial awareness so they got the chop, too. I enjoyed my flying and learned fairly quickly, but not as quickly as others, the primary and secondary effect of controls, the art of stall recovery, and made several attempts at landing - with increasing degrees of success. Mr Unger was my instructor and seeing that I had no real problems in the air decided, one trip, to throw the aircraft about. Hanging from your straps when flying inverted for the first time in an open cockpit plane is something you never forget. Even though he had said "I have control" I made an instinctive grab for the stick. I let go immediately when told "Let go of the stick you're not climbing a bloody tree!" It was during the same flight that I had control for the approach to land. I came in too low and landed somewhat short of the proper place. On debriefing me afterwards Mr Unger said aloud so that all present in the crew room could hear "You came in that low even the bloody pigs on the bloody pig farm next to the airfield had to duck!" On another flight there was a brief spell of formation flying alongside another aircraft - pre-briefed of course. Mr Unger couldn't understand why he had a job to keep station and had a tendency to drop back unless he pushed the throttle fully open. He didn't realise that, with me being so tall, I was acting as an effective air brake because my head and shoulders were so far out of the cockpit into the slip stream! In all I flew, dual, some 12 hours on type, over that freezing featureless landscape, sometimes when light snow was falling. A memorable experience, indeed, if only because of the cold.
Somehow I scraped through the course with average marks. I was wiser, I knew more about RAF life, flying, and what was to be expected of me in the future as an Officer, yet what lay ahead of us all were 3 months of solid, high pressure ground school work at our next destination, RAF Kirton-in-Lindsey.
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6 Pete Deuchar, after completing National Service, was sometimes heard on radio as a Pop guitarist.
7 The Station parade ground was used by the Cranwell Cadets.
8 Flight Sergeant Physical Training Instructor.
8