First Tour of Duty - Joining the Real Air Force !

 Hello again folks,

In the final week of Trade Training at Hereford, our instructor, Frank Pender, handed everyone a form to complete. It was often known as a Chuff Chart in some quarters. It asked us to list our three choices for a posting so if you got your posting of choice you would be chuffed ! 

I chose Chivenor, near Barnstable in North Devon, as my parents had owned a holiday caravan at nearby Croyde Bay. I also put down High Wycombe, which was not far from home at Windsor, and finally I wrote down Anywhere in the South of England.

My final choice was where I ended up ! In fact there are some people who say its not in England, but either way I was extremely chuffed when I was informed about my first posting.

St. Mawgan near Newquay Cornwall is about as far south as you can get ! I had never been to Cornwall but had heard lots about it and as for Newquay well I think I had died and gone to heaven. St. Mawgan was the home to the Nimrods of 42 Sqn. and just prior to my posting 7 Sqn Canberra's, which were used for towing targets, but the squadron was disbanded shortly afterwards, later reforming with Chinook helicopters.

The other guys and gals on the course each got their posting, and a couple of them  ,Chris Harvey and Chris Hart, went to Shawbury, in Shropshire, another chap went to High Wycombe, whilst another called Alan, went to RAF Mountbatten which is in Plymouth. 

So it was that Al Garner  and I boarded the same train at Hereford station, heading for the sunny South West of England. Going via Bristol and Exeter it was quite a long journey but several hours later the train pulled into Plymouth and I said farewell to Alan as he got off and I carried on across the Tamar Bridge into Cornwall. 

The two Tamar bridges ( the nearer is the original rail bridge)

Its funny how life in the RAF was a case of getting to know people for a while then one or both move on to pastures new, not knowing if you will ever meet again. Well I did meet Alan again (briefly) while I was at Brize Norton and he was posted in. In fact I also met the two Chris's again many years later ( but I will leave that tale for another time). Steve Day, another guy on our course, I bumped into again at Brize ( on my second tour there) and we ended up on the same resettlement course down in Plymouth fifteen years later.

The advent of Facebook has meant that I have made contact again with even more people that I have known and worked with over the years including one of the girls ( now lady I guess) off the course, Sue "Polly" Perkins from  Southampton.

The day I travelled it was a bright sunny day. A beautiful day in May in fact. The trees were in leaf and the fields of green grass  with cows or sheep. Almost a rural idyll. I say almost because as the train approached St. Austell white mountains  of China Clay spoil appeared. I had heard of these but never seen them, and was taken aback by how many there were. At the time there were still one or two active clay pits or quarries still dotted around the area but as year years went by all had been worked out and closed.

 

 

Shortly after passing through St. Austell station the train pulled into Par Station, where the sign said  Par, change here for Newquay.

The branch line to Newquay on the other side of the platform

So I got myself off the train and crossed the platform to board the next train to my final destination. After making myself comfortable the train set off on the journey across Cornwall to the north coast and Newquay. As this was a local service it stopped at every station, some being a small platform in a small village. And most having exotic sounding names, like Luxulyan and Bugle. I knew I was in a different land despite people saying we were still in England.

Bugle Station

Finally the train started to slow down on its approach to the terminus at Newquay, stopping at the buffers. So here I was, finally at the famous North Cornish resort , but now I had to find my way to St. Mawgan. Armed with my bus warrant, I proceeded to look for the bus station, but before I could locate it I was approached by a young man.

"Excuse me are you heading for St. Mawgan"? he asked me, " would you like to share a taxi"? I said "I guess carrying a RAF hold-all gives the game away there, but I've got a bus pass to get there". He introduced himself as a techy off the Nimrod Line and went onto say," You'll be waiting a long time for a bus, as there are only one or two going a day to St. Mawgan.

After a quick think, I said, OK I will join you. The taxi eventually arrived and we got in. My first glimpse of Newquay was of  young girl holiday makers in Kiss me quick trilby hats and white T-shirts with black logos printed on them saying "Choose Life" and other Wham inspired designs.

 

I later learned locals referred to these people as Emmitts. What's an Emmitt you ask ?

An Emmitt is Cornish for Ant. So the Emmitts appeared as a swarm after Easter and stayed until the beginning of September (when the kids went back to school).

The taxi journey took about ten minutes, and I noticed that there were lots of steep hills and valleys along the road. Finally we reached the turn off from the main road and carried on down another hill to the main gate, where the taxi stopped and we got out. The other guy said goodbye and went his own way, while I picked up my kit and made my way to the guard room to book onto camp.

" Hello I'm SAC Wyatt just posted in ".I got a blank stare as the corporal on the desk looked me up and down before saying. " Funny we don't have any notices of posting in, Oh well I'd better take some details from you". The usual stuff of fill out this form please, and then where will you working, and what's your trade"? I explained I was a steward straight from trade training, but didn't know which Mess I would be in. 

Ok he said I will sort you out for the transit block for tonight, then come back tomorrow and we will get a permanent room for you. He then gave me a plan of the station, showing where the Junior Ranks Mess was as well as other important buildings such as Catering Office ( where I had to report the next day) and the Station Headquarters general office.

So after being issued with bedding and taken to the transit block where I dropped my kit, and legged it to the mess before it closed for the night. The mess was a large building on the side of the hill which went up towards the airfield.

My first impression of the mess was that it had seen better days. Although everything was clean, the interior seemed a bit dated, and I can remember the windows were steamed up from the steam heated bain-maries' keeping the food hot. I had to get used to airmen's' mess food from now on, and more importantly the opening hours, which were very restrictive. Later, at weekends once I was established, I tended to not bother with mess food at lunch or evening as I would eat out in Newquay, even if that meant Fish and Chips with curry sauce.( I was introduced to chips with curry sauce while at St. Mawgan - what a sheltered life I had lived up till then).

The next day after I had got up I went back to the guard room to sort out permanent accommodation. At that time there were quite a few barrack blocks, but several of them were used by the detachment of United States Marine Corps personnel who were guarding a secret area away from the main  camp, that stored Nuclear depth charges for use if we ever went to war with the Soviets. There was also some work going on to upgrade the barracks to single man accommodation, so for several months I had to share a room with three other airmen. It was a bit of a pain but as I had been in shared rooms for several months now, I just got on with it.

The blokes were fortunately ok. There was a guy called Chris, who was a photo interpreter, studying the photos taken by the Nimrods of enemy ships or subs. Another chap was a photographer and would be seen walking about with his camera kit. The last chap was called Paul. He was a MT fitter,( a very useful bloke to know when I eventually passed my test and bought an old banger). I got on with Paul quite well and later a few of us went in his car to go plane spotting at airshows over in Norfolk. As Cornwall was along way from every where it was an epic journey just to visit the airshows at Mildenhall and also visit nearby Lakenheath.

Mildenhall Airshow 1982

Once I had sorted out my bed space and cupboards I thought it would be a good idea to report to the Catering Office and introduce myself and find out where I was going to work. 

Now the domestic site at St. Mawgan was on a hill, starting at the Main Gate and Guardroom. Next came the NAAFI Atlantic Club, where you could buy odds and ends like clothes hangars, washing powder etc. ( not forgetting shoe polish for the perfect pair of shiny shoes). Opposite was a large carpark / parade square, and some tennis courts. Back on the other side was the Airmen's Mess followed by the catering office. The Senior NCO mess was a bit further up the hill and the Officers Mess a bit further still.

A lot of RAF stations were build prior to the Second World War and all the mess buildings followed a similar pattern and layout. St Mawgan wasn't developed until the end of the war and was used by the USAF for a while, so the Mess buildings were of a modern pattern ( 1950s/60s). The further up the hill you went, the more important the buildings became ( SHQ and finally the technical area and Hangars) near the actual airfield.

So back at the catering office, I walked in and greeted the staff in the front office and explained who I was. I was told by the Sgt. to wait to one side and I would be called in to have a welcome interview with the Catering Officer, Sqn Ldr McAllister.

Eventually I was called in, so I marched into his office and gave a smart salute. Sqn Ldr McAllister had a gentle Scottish accent and appeared a very nice chap, he made me feel at ease. He invited me to be seated opposite his desk and then proceeded to give his welcome speech. 

It went something like this.... Welcome to St Mawgan SAC Wyatt I have decided to send you to Portreath for six months and if you like it you may stay there a bit longer.

Now I was thinking what or where is Portreath. I had never heard of the place. I thought that St. Mawgan was the only RAF unit in the area. I had heard of Culdrose, but that was Royal Navy. So where was he sending me. ? A fine way to start my RAF first tour. I hadn't even been there a day and I was being sent away. The Sqn Ldr then told me I could spend the rest of the day doing arrival admin, like visiting the General Office and RAF Regiment to let them know I was on the unit. His parting word was you need to catch a bus from the carpark to get to Portreath tomorrow. I saluted and made my way out of the office. 

If you study a map of Cornwall you will find exactly where the village of Portreath is. It is about 20 miles further along the coast towards St. Ives, with the nearest towns being Redruth and Cambourne. This was tin mining country with the remains of some of the Engine Houses doted along the cliff edges.

A typical Cornish Tin Mine ( RAF Portreath can be seen in the far distance)

 

The RAF had only recently returned to the old WW2 era airfield as a Early warning Fighter Control radar site which explains why I had never heard of it. The airfield was one of several that had been constructed in the war that were very close to the sea. St Mawgan and St Eval airfields near Newquay, then Perranporth (Trevellas) and then Portreath. After the war Portreath was closed as an airfield but then the site was taken over for the production of Chemical warfare weapons. A large factory was built on the runways and high fences put up around the perimeter. It was then named after the farm that had once been there and became known as C.D.E  Nancekuke. The factory also made protective clothing for use against chemical and biological warfare.

The factory closed in the mid 70s and the buildings pulled down, with some of the debris pushed down disused mine shafts and concreted over.

Once I had been to as many sections that I could to inform them I was now on station strength I went to the mess for my evening meal and then back to the barracks to finish sorting my stuff out. I met the other guys and got to find out about the camp, and more importantly about Newquay. I then changed out of my uniform into my civvies. A bit later I went across the road to the NAAFI club for a drink and a packet of crisps. There was only a handful of people using the club, as it was mid-week. After watching the TV in the lounge for a little while, I went back to the room to get my uniform ready for the next day and my first day at Portreath.

No.2 working dress jacket

At the time we were wearing the 1972 Pattern uniform. The Number 1 uniform with peaked hat,( as I had worn for my passing out parade) then we had the No.2 working dress uniform which included the jacket ( as shown above) with a beret. We could also wear a woolen round neck jumper ( often called a Wooly Pully). As I was going to work the next day and to ensure I gave the right impression to my new boss, I gave my uniform a good pressing and my shoes a good polish. Having completed that I chatted to the guys for a while. The main topic of conversation at the time was the conflict going on in the Falklands and our opinions on how the British forces were doing. We all turned in for the night ready for the next day.

I will talk about my first day at work on my next episode.

See you then 

Rob