Those Good Olde Dayes

A Memory of Compton Bassett.

Who can forget the grim start to 1947?  I was one of those arriving at RAF Padgate in March when after barely 2 weeks induction we were all sent back home and the place virtually shut down. No heating, washing in ice cold water and the country in the grip of a postwar fuelless and austerity freezeup. Hence my arrival at RAF C B in May and the subsequent mindless squarebashing months as ACH/GD lasted until August through an equally roasting summer.  One of the refuges from the endless parades, marching up and down, rude awakenings at 6.30am & fatigues was the camp cinema and the NAAFI.  One particular day we all dreaded was the first day on the range at RAF Melksham - my first attempts to actually fire a Lee-Enfield in the face of varied dire threats and warnings and the later sessions dismantling, firing and blindly reassembling the Sten Gun.  Somehow we got past it without killing each other, or indeed the NCOs, although one luckless guy almost shot his foot off.
I also got to climb the hill to that White Horse, saw 'King Kong' at the tiny village cinema, and made flying visits to Bath, Marlborough and Swindon. The one single thing we wanted after those first endless months was to get out of the place, so imagine my reaction when the postings went around and mine was to return to the place as W/TPOp u/t to no 3 RS.  Those endless hours of Morse Code, typing, procedure, tech and DF remain etched in my memory and I can still read Morse 60 years later. Radio and telecommunications became my life's interest and I ended up at NWSC Blackbrook to spend one of my best ever years enjoying Liverpool in its heyday and my work.
I have often wondered what befell CB, Calne and Harris's sausage factory in the village. I have still an old atlas bought in Chippenham then that bears a label:
2348397 Sheehan  2 Sqdn 1 Wing 3RS RAF C B.  
I also retained my original 'housewife' with a now faded name.  Many of us from London would often charter our own coaches as a hut for about 30/- return for our 'incentive weekends' rather than suffer the trials of the local rail service.  One lasting memory I don't treasure was missing the coach back from Victoria at 8pm one Sunday and panicking. Checking with the RTO I was advised to take the late train from Paddington to Chippenham and use my initiative. That significant and sacrosanct time of 23.59 turned out to be academic when to my disbelief on arrival at Chippenham at around 1am not only was I far from being the only one, as I had feared, but there was actually a coach there waiting to deliver us all straight back to camp!
It was a short night's sleep but was I relieved.
It's quite true, one doesn't forget those times and their virginal experiences.

---

---