22862 Frank Lord I initially volunteered for service in 1939. It had come up on the radio that they wanted people with coastal experience. I had sailing experience but when I made enquiries no one knew anything about it. I was sent to the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries to see if I could be of use but they could not help. I had no success. No one seemed to know anything about it.
My ambition was to go into the Navy and in 1941 I was called up. I was twenty six. I reported for my medical having just recovered from 'flu and they wouldn't accept me. Instead I was told to go home and return in three months which I did.
I signed on at Poole Street, Preston and then was sent, despite my request to join the navy, to train for the RAF at Blackpool.
The training took place on a field where a man had kept hens and which backed onto my grandmother's house. When the officer in charge realised I lived locally he asked if I wished to live at home. So for the six weeks of my training I was allowed to do so. My wife and I lived near Squires Gate.
Next I went to Padgate which was a dispatch centre so I was only there a few days and on to Middleton-St-George.
We reckoned Middleton-St-George was being built up for the next war because it was nowhere near finished. To make matters worse 1942 was a terrible winter. The central heating was fed from a central boiler but the pipes running from it had never been covered in so that the central heating was not working. Things were bad but when the water supply failed it became really serious. No heating, no water, some actually died and so we were sent home for seven days.
A mock station, a decoy, was built in the area with 'cut-outs', false buildings to fool the enemy. It was destroyed in air raid attacks. The station itself was very much in the front line. The Darlington to Stockton railway ran at the back of the aerodrome and for a time they stopped using it because the Germans used to machine gun the trains as well as bomb our runways.
The barracks were three storeys high, twelve men to a room and a room at the end for the chap in charge. They were all good lads.
When I first arrived they were all strangers but soon they were friends. I found my bed and another conscript came along to take the adjacent bed.
I said "I'm Frank Lord," and held out my hand. "And I'm Bert Lord from Bacup," he replied.
We remained friends throughout the time we were at Middleton-St-George and with the squadron. He was an older recruit, about forty. He was a good pianist and liked a pint but if we ever went out and there was a piano, he never had to buy one.
I worked in the food store, allocating food supplies. In about 1942 the C.O. sent for me one day. I went to his office and he asked me to sit down.
"You volunteered for the Navy," he said, "there's a commission and a minesweeper for you in Portsmouth. Do you want to go?"
I declined.
Whatever duties you were assigned to, you all had to do a gunnery course. They were always short of gunners. If you did not get to serve as one you were lucky. I was lucky.
After a while I was sent to Arbroath on a commando course. We never really knew what was our intended destination after training. This course was to train for the Special Air Squadron Units which they had set up. Their role was to follow the army and when they had been flown in, to make preparations for our 'planes. There were only four Special Air Squadrons. Three saw active service but I was in the fourth which was never used. The squadron's role was not only to prepare for our planes but in the case of having to retreat, they had to destroy what they had built so it could not be used by the enemy. Some, therefore were sent overseas but I never went. Our unit was supposed to be destined for Singapore but it fell before we got there.
The Arbroath station was an old mill with a canal running through it. You had to walk alongside the canal to get from the barracks to the washrooms. One day we got a surprise because when we got there they were full of Polish servicemen all stripped to the waist, washing.
Whilst at Arbroath we were fed four dinners a day because the training was so intensive and we were still hungry. We used to go out to the harbour area which was surrounded by fish and chip shops to supplement our food intake. One night we listened in amusement to three women in the shop all having an argument, One Italian, one broad Scots and the other speaking Gaelic.
During the course we were split into squadrons of twenty four men. Of the twenty four only nine to eleven passed on average and the rest were returned to their squadrons as unfit. Ray Ellington, the band leader, was one of those undergoing training when I was there. He passed.
Although not serving abroad whilst on base we were definitely on the front line.
I remember the occasion when twelve of our 'planes went out to Norway to try and sink the Bismarck. Only one came back. Seventy men were lost.
When an aircraft crash landed it made a terrible sound. Everyone sprang into action. There was the struggle to free all the crew and afterwards the dreadful smell of burning which lingered long afterwards in your nostrils.
On every station there were those who offered support; the W.V.S., the Salvation Army, the Catholic Church but not the Church of England.
One day I was assigned a duty off base or rather I was lumbered with taking six men to the military hospital at Richmond. We sat in the waiting room. There was no one else there. A big notice said "No Smoking". "Can we have a smoke sir?" I was asked. Since there was no one in sight I nodded. They'd just lit up when the sister came. She looked at the notice.
"I'm sorry sister," I said "they've got bad eyes, they can't see."
My first flight was in a tiger moth but the first bombers we had were Whitleys. We called them flying coffins. They were so slow that they set off at tea time, long before the others, because the Halifax had come in, but the Whitleys were still being used, but it would still be nearly midnight when the Whitleys returned from a mission, long after the Halifaxes.
The Halifaxes also saw service as glider tow craft and then they were superseded by Lancasters.
For identification returning 'planes used to drop flares and the colours changed nightly. One night they changed colours but the Germans were caught out because they dropped the wrong colour. We could not, however, launch a barrage against the Germans because we only had one gun and very little ammunition which you had to ask for.
The station next to ours was wiped out in one attack. Next day thirty two survivors arrived in a bus at our camp. The camp's complement had been 1,100 men.
When Singapore fell they did not know what to do with us. We'd been trained and were awaiting orders at base. A notice was put up asking if we wanted to go and help in industry for three months. They would not say where or what they wanted us to do. Bert and I both volunteered and that was when we separated and lost touch.
I was sent to Leyland Motors. At first there was no job for me but then they taught me to be a link and arc welder. We were bases at Faringdon and we made Churchill tanks. It was not a pleasant job because you were working inside the tanks and so, being in such a confined space, you collected burns. Depending on the shift a hull was completed very day or every night.
Factories were busy throughout the war in armament production. My wife, Joan, was at Squire's Gate Airport where aircraft were repaired. She worked in the office sending signals.
The whole of Brooklands Aviation was relocated from London to Blackpool and stayed for the duration.
I was offered a job at Leyland but I didn't accept it. At the end of the war I was never actually discharged. In fact I still have a travel warrant and a voucher for food for my demob' unused.
Of all the regiments, brigades, squadrons, units it was Bomber Command that in percentage terms had the highest casualties. At the end of the war, however, no medal was given to Bomber Command.
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