Three Cheers For Colour-Blindness by "Eric Sparky"

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Elizabeth Perez of Stockport Libraries on behalf of "Eric Sparky". It has been added to the site with his permission and he fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

This is not a story of heroism or of medal-winning bravery under enemy fire. The events I describe came about entirely due to a slight misunderstanding combined with a minor visual impairment of mine namely colour blindness. The end result was that my own part in the war was almost entirely free of danger, except perhaps for my Atlantic crossing in the “Aquitania” which zigzagged all the way to New York to avoid submarines.

In 1938, at the age of thirteen, I joined No. 55 Squadron of the Air Defence Cadet Corps at Hazel Grove, and eventually became quite competent at Morse Code. Later I joined the youth radio club and increased my speed of sending and receiving to eighteen words per minute.

In March 1943 I volunteered for the R.A.F, and was told to join my local Air Training Corps until I was called up. I joined the Stockport School Squadron, and two months later I was called up. A certificate from the A.T.C. had been sent in advance to the R.A.F. indicating that I wished to be trained as a wireless mechanic. This was incorrect as I had told the A.T.C. Commanding Officer that I wished to become a wireless telegraphist, because of my ability to send and receive Morse Code. It was too late to do anything about it.
So after six weeks “square-bashing” at R.A.F. Padgate, I was sent to a college in London to begin the wireless mechanic training.

Three months into the training course, the R.A.F. Medical Officer suddenly decided that all trainees should be tested for colour vision. I was given what is known as “The Ishihara Colour Test”, and I failed it so badly that I was told it would be unsafe to allow me eventually to do wiring repairs on radios which may be used in operational aircraft. The Medical Officer told me I was finished as a trainee wireless mechanic, and asked me what trade I would like to change to and of course I said I wanted to be trained as a wireless telegraphist, which I wanted to do in the first place.

Six months later, I qualified for my “Sparks badge” and in due course served with Atlantic Transport Command in Canada, Bermuda and the Azores. I managed ten days leave in New York, but being on R.A.F. pay I had to stay in the Salvation Army Red Shield Club for Servicemen at W56th Street off Broadway. On booking in for bed and breakfast, the desk clerk said “I recognise that accent of yours, are you from Stockport?” This man was the first American I had spoken to, but I confirmed this rather remarkable deduction, whereupon he told me he came from Reddish in Stockport and had emigrated in 1920. It is indeed a small world!

In 1948, about a year after demobilisation, when my demob suit was getting rather the worst for wear, I decided to buy some new clothing, and I went to Lewis’s in Manchester to make my purchases. As I walked through the men’s wear department, I saw a tall blonde-haired man approaching me smartly dressed and obviously one of the staff of floor-walkers. He stopped in front of me and said “We’ve met somewhere before, haven’t we?” His blonde mop of hair gave me the clue and I said “R.A.F. Radio College London 1943”. I told him I had been to Canada and America and been stationed for twelve months in Bermuda, and asked him where he had ended up. His reply was that he and most of the radio mechanics on the course had finished up in various airfields in Burma, and how the hell did I manage to get myself a posting to Bermuda and the Azores? My answer was that Samuel Morse had arranged it for me and thank God for colour blindness!

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.