In the crowded darkness and anticipation several of our number began to feel unwell and a couple of Cadets actually fainted while waiting. This delayed proceedings and it was some time before all of us received our injections. In my diary I recorded this event and likened it to being unnecessarily caged up in circumstances analogous to the 'Black Hole of Calcutta'. This, on being read, was regarded as a matter for further investigation and I was called for interview. Apparently, and surprisingly, no-one else had dared to mention the event. I was questioned at length and asked whether I had told anyone off-camp about it. I had not, and was asked not to. Procedures were altered for ensuing courses.
There was one incident which I did not record in my diary. I was attending a lecture and sitting in the back corner of the lecture room in one of the hangars, paying attention and minding my own business, when I got a tremendous blow on the top of my head. I momentarily blacked out. On coming round everyone was looking at me. There, on my desk, was a lump of concrete which had chosen to drop on me from the ceiling. I dusted myself down, and the lecture continued. I didn't record the incident because I didn't want to appear as though I was complaining and, thereby, possibly lose marks.
During the course we were taught field craft, the use of camouflage, rifle shooting and the cleaning of weapons, including Stens and Brens. The rifles were different to those we used for drill. The latter were regarded as being past their proper use and deemed to be worn and inaccurate. We were also taught how to protect ourselves from a gas attack. This extended to our being taken to Scampton, one of the local heavy bomber stations, to experience tear gas in a gas chamber. It was advised that a couple of glasses of gin were a good antidote for the after effects of tear gas but our NAAFI didn't sell it, and none of us could have afforded it even if it did!
As I remember it we were given two 36 hour and one 48 hour pass during the course. The first weekend home I travelled by train from the local station (almost two miles from camp), via Retford, Sheffield, Manchester and Liverpool. It was neither an easy journey nor fast. For the next two breaks those of us living on the west side of the Pennines hired a bus to take us to Manchester - and back on the Sunday evening. This simplified matters enormously and didn't cost all that much.
One particular Church Parade sticks in my mind. After having marched to the church and been instructed to file into the building, the Sergeant at the church door repeatedly shouted "Ats orf in the 'ars of Gawd", much to everyone's amusement.
As each course took its final exams there was much relief and singing in the NAAFI. (That is apart from those Cadets who had failed and had been quickly posted away elsewhere). It was time for them to relax until the results came through. To create an annoying 'distraction' that course would usually raid the barrack block of the following course and remove the light fuses. The chaos,

National Service Acting Pilot Officer.

14