my first night solo. Taking off and landing on a featureless (other than patches marked as bad ground which couldn't be seen in the dark) grass airfield tended initially to involve more good luck than flying skill. The 'runway' was a T-shaped pattern of goose-neck flares laid out according to the wind direction at the time; landing was on one side of the leg of the 'T' and take-offs on the other. Aldis lamp signals and, in dangerous situations, Verey lights were the only visual means of control in addition to the R/T. The control tower couldn't see us properly in the dark and couldn't readily distinguish one aircraft from another. A sharp - particularly sharp - lookout was essential. There was a 'Chance Light' which, when switched on, usually caused one (instructors included) to tend to 'land' about six feet above the ground and thus hit the ground heavily for the real landing.7 Airfields had 'Pundits' in those days. These were red beacons which repeatedly flashed an airfield's identity in Morse Code. When it came to night navigation these were an enormous help. But I had a problem. I had a complete block when it came to learning Morse Code. To me it was like trying to sight-read Chinese without previous knowledge. I got by in ground school at four words a minute provided the words were short. In the air I had a piece of paper carrying the code fastened to my right knee where I could always refer to it. Neither Morse code nor calculations came easily to me when airborne. To navigate by both day and night I relied heavily on my strong inbuilt sense of direction and have to say that I never got lost, even in or above cloud.
One day, quite unexpectedly, we were all gathered together by the CO and told that we would be taking part in an Escape and Evasion exercise as defenders of a make-believe country called Lestrutshire which was the combined area of the counties of Leicestershire and Rutland. As defenders we were to be on guard at what we were told would be critical locations past which escaped 'foreign' airmen were supposed to be making their way to a 'safe house'. The 'foreigners' were none other than trainee pilots from other airfields. Defenders were made up of Police, Army, RAF, and Civil Defence personnel. Our stint found us, late one chilly summer night, being bussed to some strange location where there was a bridge on a main road in a housing estate which was regarded as 'important'. None of us saw anything at all suspicious, and the night was only memorable for our acute tiredness and the shivering cold in the hour immediately following sunrise. To us, it was a total waste of time and taught us nothing.

In National Service Mess Kit outside my room
window before going to a Dining In Night.

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7 Chance Light = The commercial name for a unidirectional floodlight which could be switched on to shine a beam along the landing side of the flare path.
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