A Wireless Operator's Tale, Part 2.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Bill Ross of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Jack Morley, and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr. Morley fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

The stories were transcribed from audio recordings made and supplied by Jack. When some of the foreign place names that are mentioned could not be found very easily in an atlas, they have been typed as they sounded, as have some of the technical and coded terms with which I was not familiar, therefore, they will probably be misspelled............. Bill Ross, BBC People’s War Story Editor.

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Other parts to this story can be found at:

Part 1: A5041397

Part 3: A6023701

Part 4: A6039722

Part 5: A6081257

Part 6: A6081301

Part 7: A6126077

Part 8: A6126167

Part 9: A6138010

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I was congratulating myself on my mother not knowing until tomorrow and………my pal Billy came in and said, “Hello Jack, I’ve just come to tell yer I’ve joined up.” I said, “Oh, have yer?” He said, "I go to Bedford tomorra, I’m going to Cardington.” I said, “That’s strange, so am I.” Well, me mother looked, she was quite shocked, but, she didn’t have an outburst or anything. Later, I said, “I’ll see yer tomorra morning then Bill.” I started packing a little case up and my mother said, “Let me pack that up, I’ll make it tidy, you’ll not make it tidy.” She packed my case, gave me a thump and said, “You’re a naughty boy, you shouldn’t have signed up, but you’re nearly eighteen anyway, so, you’ll be going anyway, they’ll be calling you up.” I said, “Ay, and I wanted to go in t’RAF, that's where I wanted to go.” She said, “Alright.” So next morning, she kissed me goodbye. I got down to Victoria Station and there was me dad waiting to see me, he’d been to work and he’d left work to come and see me off.

Bill and I met outside the station and we walked on; we found a carriage and stood in the doorway. Me dad said, “Don’t forget lad, if ever you need anything, let me know and I’ll make sure you get it.” That was funny because Dad never had two ha’pennies for a penny himself. Anyway, we went into a compartment and there sat another pal of ours, Eric Brown, who had been another of our pals from the Shiregreen reading rooms. “Hello,” he said, “I didn’t know you’d joined up.” We said, “Well, we didn’t know you’d joined up. Where yer going?” “Cardington,” So off we went and when we got to Bedford, we piled out with our little attaché cases and there was a whole fleet of little vans outside; a corporal by each.

There were three of us together, so one said, “Right, in here you three.” Off we went to Cardington. We reported in, to the guardroom, we went to another place and put the cases down for a minute until there were fifty or so of us there, all in a row, then an officer came in and said, “You’ve all volunteered, now, before we go any farther, you’ve joined up and you will be staying in the air force in whatever position we decide, but you’re here for an aircrew selection board. Before we do that, you’ll all be sworn in.”

We had to raise our hands and swear our allegiance to King and Country, and the officer said, “You are now in the air force, you can’t join any other service, and now we’ll carry on with the selection board business, but whatever happens, you are in the RAF now.” We were taken into another room and there were quite a few doors in this room.

The first of our lot to go through was Eric Brown. He was only gone a few minutes and he came out and said, “They won’t let me go in the aircrew.” I said, “Why not?” He said, “Because I’m a wireless ‘ham’, I’ve been a wireless ‘ham’ for some years. So they said I’d be far better joining a ground station, but I am in the air force and I’m staying.”

Bill goes in next, and he comes out, he sez, “Jack, I can’t go in the aircrew because I’ve been a sheet metal worker. They decided to send me on ‘Rescue and Repair’” I said, “What’s that?” He said, “Going out somewhere in the desert or somewhere to find aircraft, fetch ‘em back, drag ‘em back on a truck and get all the bits that we can or get bits from other aircraft to repair that one.” He said, “That’s what I’ll be doing.” So he said, “I shan’t be going back home, I’ll be staying here, I’ve got to get posted yet.”

I followed him into this doorway; there were four officers sat in a row, the commanding officer came round — that was the fifth officer — he came round, “Have you been to Secondary school?” I said, “No Sir.” “Well, I’m afraid you can’t go in for aircrew.” Well, I was most disappointed, so I said, “Just a minute Sir, I went to a senior school.” He said, “I’ve never heard of such a school.” I said, “But I’ve got a merit certificate here.” He said, “Well, let’s have a look at it then.” They had a look at it and I had so many distinctions, it was unbelievable. “Oh, right, stay there a minute.” And he walked along the line of other officers and showed them all, they all nodded. He turned round to me and said, “That’s it, you’ve been selected for training for air crew, we don’t know what yet, you have to go through a series of adaptability tests to find out what you’re most suitable for.

Well, I didn’t know what to think then because I’d hoped to get to be an observer or something — a navigator. He passed the merit certificate back to me and I turned to go back out of the same door, but he said, “Wait outside.” As I turned to go through the door that my pal had gone through, he said, “No, hang on, you go out of this door, you’re going for an adaptability test." So, I went through and took various tests and a sergeant came along and said, “Now then Morley,” no first names, no ranks, “Now then Morley, you’ve been selected to go for training as a Wireless Operator/Air Gunner.” “Oh,” I said, “Thank you Sir.” He said, “You’ll not be thanking me before you’ve finished, but anyway, he said, “That’s it, now you can go and join yer pals in the big hall.”

I went into the big hall and we all got chatting and, Bill’s name was called out first; he’d been posted down south somewhere, ready for embarking to Africa. Then they called Alec’s name out. He’d been posted up north to some wireless school. Gradually, one by one, names were called until there was about a dozen of us left. They were scheduled to go for training, for aircrew, various trades.

So, back to the hut that night, we were called up next morning; just a few were going on aircrew next morning. The Flight Sergeant came banging down, tapping on the beds with a pickaxe handle. Bang, bang, bang, “Come on, rise and shine!” We thought we were going where we’d been the day before, to the airmen’s mess for food. He said, “You are going to the airmen’s mess, but not yet, not until you’ve had a wash and shave,” So with that thought, we thought we were going to the ablutions. “Oh no,” he sez, “You’re really in the air force now. There’s a tank of water outside the hut door, a large tank with ice all over it.” So he smashed the ice with his pick handle and said, “There you are, get washed and shaved and report back here in a quarter of an hour.” He said, “Then we’ll go for breakfast.” That was the first taste of having a shave in icy cold water which was to happen many times while I was a Cardington. I was there for about a week all told. We were issued with knife, fork, spoon, mug, various other details. We were taken first though, to a place where we were kitted out with uniforms — one of these, one of them, two of these, and a kitbag. Then, we went along with our kitbags into the airmen’s mess, all sat at a long table, kitbags behind us and we had breakfast.

Following this, we were to be taken back to a certain hut; not the ones we’d left. There we were to have beds at our disposal and lockers for our kit. Then they said, “When you’ve got the kit out,” he showed us how to do it, “laid out neatly, just like this.” He said, “And the orderly officer will be in shortly to make sure you’ve got everything,” which he did. He checked every man’s belongings and made sure we’d got everything that we needed. Then, we put the kitbags into the lockers and away we went, marching around the camp, showing us various places, various things we would have to do. One of these things: they marched us across the airfield to these great big hangars, one of which had housed the R101 before its disaster.

…………………These aeroplanes seemed immense, but they weren’t really, they were the largest bombers the Germans had in the First World War, and they were kept in this hangar on display. For the next few days, we were marching around, having improvements made to our uniforms, and then, I was called on one side and was told, “Morley, you are now an AC2 in the RAF, but I’m afraid you’ll have to hand your kit in. It’ll be all sealed up and left in your name, and you will have to go home, because, you’re not only under 18 - you’re 17 years old - but you’re also a crucible furnace man, and this is an exempt trade. What we want you to do now is to go back to Sheffield, enrol at the Naval Wireless School in Sheffield, to learn Morse Code and procedure, but also to try to get another job because until you leave that job and get a job that is not reserved, we cannot recall you.

I was most disappointed, but, I had to do as I was told and when I came back home, Mam said, “Oh good, they’ve sent ya back ‘cos ya not old enough.” I said, “Yeah, but they’re goina send for me back when I get the sack.” I told Beattie, she sez, “Well, what yer goina do Jack?” I sez, “Ask at your firm if there’s any jobs,” I sez, “’cos I’m going looking for our boss and if I can’t find him, I’m goina put me notice in ‘cos he still owes me some wages.”

This is what I did, but I couldn’t find the boss at his home, so I called into the firm at Gladwins and said, “I’m putting my notice in, I can’t find the boss, so I’m finishing now.” I said, “He owes me some money, so I’ve finished.” I went straight down to Beattie’s firm, a Wafer Razor Company, and they made machines as well, they made caps and lathes. I asked the foreman and he said, “Oh yes, we’re waiting for somebody to paint these lathes when they’ve been made. “Oh,” I said, “I’ll take that job on.” He said, “Right you are, when can you start?” I said, “Now, if you want.” He said, “No yer can’t, your dressed up, come back tomorra.”

So now, I was exempted and I was now a machine painter. Beattie used to engrave the razor blades in acid, a nasty job, but I had a job now. I was outside most of the time, or I had a little shed if it rained. I used to go home with Beattie at dinnertime, because she always went home for dinner, and I used to take my sandwiches with me. After a few weeks of this, her mother said to me, “Ya can’t come here any more for yer dinner.” I said, “Why now?” She said, “Because tea and sugar are rationed and you haven’t brought me any tea and sugar. “Oh,” I said, “Alright then, I’ll just not bother,” and I didn’t.

Beattie was most upset, but I wasn’t going to tell me mother how mean Beattie’s mother was, she couldn’t afford a cuppa tea for me. Anyway, after a period, the Wafer Razor Company bought out a church on Scotland Street, and I was one of the two who had been asked to go and knock the inside of the church out, get rid of the pews into the yard at the back, and then we could help to put the girders up. They’d bought the chapel, so as the move from Earlsham Street, to John Street. One of the delicate jobs was taking the organ down and marking each piece, one, two, three etc., taking it carefully down and it was to be collected by a lorry and taken to somewhere in Oxford, to a church there.

The place that was meant to be the canteen had a War Memorial in, and the boss kept that War Memorial. For the next twelve months, I was helping to rebuild this firm and when it was built, painted all the walls inside and helped in the installation of the machines. Then, eventually, I got called up because I’d changed my job; I wasn’t doing the furnace job, but in the meantime, those months have been wonderful months. I attended Naval Wireless School three nights a week and I was still in the Home Guard (I still had to carry my rifle about with me, so I used to take it to work and lock it up at work), and at weekends, if we weren’t on exercises, and if we’d no parades for the Boys’ Brigade, and we’d no Sunday Parades, Beatrice and I used to go rambling all over Derbyshire in that twelve months.

Anyway, I was recalled, not back to Cordington, so I had to be kitted out again when I finally got to the next destination. It was a place just outside Manchester. I got to Manchester Station, clutching my little case and I met a lad on the station; he had a little case too. We got talking and it turned out that he was a collier from Shirland. We both caught the train to our destination where we were kitted out: knife, fork and spoon etc. After we’d received out uniforms, we were told that, that afternoon, we’d be going by train to Blackpool for wireless training. A few of us had made pals that first day, and a few of us managed to squeeze into one carriage and off we went to Blackpool.

A funny thing happened at Blackpool; we stepped off the train at Blackpool’s Talbot Road Station, and as we looked around, a voice shouted, “Stay where you are.” This was Flight Sergeant Frazer. “You are all to be under my command.” This was a bit shaky for a start. He said, “Stand in two rows,” which we did. “Right, put yer cases on the floor and everyone, go outside the station, there’s a barber’s shop. The barber will deal with you in a few minutes; get your hair cut!!” The lad I’d palled up with, Alan Wallace, had long blonde hair. So, we walked down together and they gave us a haircut.

We were among the last to get back and when we did arrive, they were all waiting. When half way across the platform, the flight sergeant shouted, “HALT”. So we did. He said, “I thought I’d told you to get yer haircut.” “We’ve had it done, Flight Sergeant.” “Go back and get it finished.” So we went back to the barber and we had it cut again, when we came back……………..”Now go back and get it done properly.” So on the third visit, the barber said, “Who keeps sending yer back?” “Flight Sergeant Frazer.”

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Pr-BR

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