Boy Entrant; The Recollections of a Royal Air Force Brat Read Online Free Page A

Boy Entrant; The Recollections of a Royal Air Force Brat
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“Bull” McDonald, were already there. Melvin was with his mother, but Bull was by himself as he usually was. There’s safety in numbers, so we joined them because, as I recall, we were the only people there.
    As we waited on the platform for the Belfast train to arrive, the stationmaster and porters engaged us in friendly banter and soon learned all about the reason for our journey to the big city. Then, as we boarded the train for the two-hour trip to Belfast, everyone including the station staff waved and wished us good luck. It had been arranged that Melvin’s aunt was going to meet us at the other end and get us safely to the recruiting office. So, three young boys off on a great adventure would still have adult protection from the big bad world, although it was a more innocent time and we were in no great danger. The wheels clickety-clicked and smoke from the steam locomotive’s smoke stack streamed past the carriage window as we sped towards Belfast, stopping with a screech of brakes and a blast of steam at Ballymoney, then Ballymena and finally past Bleach Green as we swept around the eastern end of Belfast Lough and into Belfast’s York Road railway station.
    Melvin’s aunt was there waiting, as promised. She welcomed us then led us to her home a short distance away for some very welcome sandwiches with steaming mugs of tea and freshly baked Irish soda scones topped with butter and strawberry jam. It was mid-morning by now and the time had come to present ourselves to the RAF. So, when we had finished our scones and tea, the kind lady escorted us to the recruiting office in nearby Clifton Street and then wished us well before saying goodbye.
    A friendly sergeant welcomed us, introducing himself as Sergeant Malloy whilst he checked our names off his list. If you’ve seen one recruiting office, you’ve seen them all. They’re full of colourful posters and brochures depicting the glamour of life in uniform, but it was the RAF ensign, hanging from an almost horizontal flagpole over the building’s entrance, that really made an impression on me. The ensign was sky blue, with a small Union Jack in the upper corner nearest the flagstaff and a large red white and blue RAF roundel just a little off-centre. This was the first time that I’d laid eyes on the RAF flag, little realizing that, starting from right there and then, I would be seeing it with great frequency for the next 15 years of my life.
    We had all received a letter advising that we should be prepared to be away from home for a few days. The arrangement was that we would undergo some testing in Belfast and those who passed this successfully would then travel from there to RAF Cosford in England. I’d never been to England before. In fact, up to that point, Belfast was the furthest distance I’d ever been from home in my entire life and that was only a piddling 60 miles from Coleraine. So the prospect of going to England had me really fired up. This seemed to be the adventure to beat all adventures.
    In all, there must have been close to a hundred boys in our group that day. We came from all corners of Northern Ireland and there were also some boys from Southern Ireland. I remember some of them by name: Niall Adderley, Cecil Burden, Charlie Cunningham, and Billy Cassidy. Most of us were ordinary middle of the road well-scrubbed working class kids, but this was the era of the “Teddy Boys” and one boy showed up in full Teddy Boy attire—long drape jacket with its velvet collar, drainpipe trousers and a shoestring for a tie. His hair was dark, thick and full, heavily Brylcreemed and slicked back into the “DA”—Duck’s Arse—hairstyle popular with the “Teds”. He looked tough—a real hard-man, as they say in Belfast—so most of us kept our distance. Teddy Boys were reputed to carry flick-knives and cut-throat razors and weren’t afraid to use them at the slightest provocation. No point in taking chances with somebody like that.
    They paid
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