Some time ago I sent in some articles that was originally written by a 77year old friend of mine called Jim Law, he`s a nice chap, and for his age he`s got a brill sense of humour, a bit like mine in fact, but not quite so warped, I suppose that`s why we get on so well as friends
Whilst he served his time in the RAF during 1942-194g he visited quite a few places, some abroad, and some places nearer to home, some time after 1946 when he was demobed he decided to write down all or most of his adventures during his war service, but he didn`t want to just write them down as a normal book, he wanted to keep it write in a light-hearted sort of way, so he finally decided to make his excursions come across in a sort of poem-based way.read on.you`ll see what I mean..I like it
Tingewick And Finmere
The day came to leave Mill green and go to pastures new,
Nick and I went to Bicester with another job to do.
We arrived at Bicester station a real lively place,
Enough to wipe the smile off anybody`s face.
Night was creeping closer and we wondered where to go,
It really was to Tingewick, but how were we to know?.
We got a lift up the road and were dropped off by a gate,
We began to get worried because it was getting rather late.
In the field there was a hut to which we made our way,
We thought, this is funny, hope we don`t have to stay.
The man inside said: Yes, you`ve come to the right place,
He sat behind a table, a big smile on his face.
Welcome to 312STC, he said, you`re very welcome here,
If you do as your told, you will have nothing to fear.
In the morning, yes, we stayed all night,
The next day dawned fair and bright,
Some more bods came to join our clan,
I suppose it was all part of a plan.
We were all hearded on a troop-carrying QL,
And taken to a place where we were to dwell.
Up the road towards Finmere, and underneath a bridge,
Turn right down a lane and over a ridge.
At the end there was a camp all nestled in the trees,
I suppose at the time we were not so hard to please.
I think there were Americans there, I`m not really that sure,
Some Michell bombers were on the drome, you should have heard them roar.
We were all allocated our huts, of which I think there were two,
We didn`t think have much choice, so we had to make them do.
There were Davy McKay, Johnny Thain and Timber Woods I am sure,
Nick French and myself and many many more.
One Job we had was at Quedgley, down in Gloucestershire,
To pick up some QL Bedfords and bring them back here.
We had to stay the night there, but only for a short while,
It was mainly a WAAF camp and one thing made us smile.
We were herded into a hut and there had to stay,
The reason why was very clear, when dawn came the next day.
We were in the middle of the WAAF`s site,
Which I suppose seemed to be quite alright.
A crowd of DMT`s would do no one any harm,
We would never understand the cause of the alarm.
Perhaps the idea was t o safeguard all of us,
We were only innocent lads and did not want any fuss.
When we did get out on the road, it really was quite a sight,
Many an unsuspecting motorist must have had such a fright.
It was the first time we had been in a convoy, everything was new.
There were no motorways in those days, no M1 or M2.
We arrived back a Tingewick, unscathed, but learnt a lot,
A lot wiser for the outing, which none of us forgot.
For evening`s entertainment there wasn`t much to do,
There was no telly, there was the radio.
Some of us played cards, whenever we could get four,
Solo was the name of the game, but sometimes left you poor.
There were some nights we went out for a drink,
But where did we go, now let me think.
There was a pub at Tingewick, but it was very quiet,
Wherever we went we didn`t cause a riot.
Buckingham was best, but it was a very long walk,
But we passed the time with plenty of talk.
There was a footpath that ran between the huts,
Which led to the main road, the best way for short cuts.
Once on the main road we turned to the right,
It wasn`t all that long before Buckingham was in sight.
One particular night we had had a few drinks,
And when walking round there were always high jinks.
This night three or four women passed our way,
And in the process they had plenty to say.
Nick answered them with a P@£s up your kilt,
One or two of us felt a bit of guilt.
But when the women answered with Go and Play With Your Steam,
We thought all of this was some sort of dream.
Everyone stopped for a bit of a chat,
The talk was just about this y`now this and that.
Then they invited us down to the house for a cup of tea,
Which had on the front door a very large V.
It was a very small room where we all were ushered in,
A baby was crying, kicking up quite a flippin` din.
Tea was made and was passed around,
While we were drinking there wasn`t much sound.
The minutes ticked by and Nick was getting pretty bored,
I wondered what was next agenda board.
He reached to a shelf which was just above his head,
Took down a bottle and nothing was said.
He unscrewed the top and put it to his lips,
And proceeded to partake in a couple of sips.
He took out a match which he lit a bit smart,
Put it to his lips and blew very hard.
All of a sudden there was a zoom,
And a flame shot right across the room.
The women screamed and we all laughed,
A pity that this moment wasn`t photographed.
One woman feeding the baby was quite petrified,
Shoved the bottle so far down his throat till he cried.
A bloody great spider ran out from within it`s lair,
And nearly dropped in one woman`s hair.
Everywhere was chaos and in uproar,
The dog came in and peed on the floor.
It was one of the best laughs we ever got,
And Believe you me, we had quite a lot.
The last time I passed by the house was still there,
But didn`t have time to have a good stare.
I must stop one day and pleasantly enquire,
If anyone remembers the night the man breathed fire.
The days rolled by and so did the war,
The month was April 1944.
This was to be a great month in my life,
For on the 15th the girl at the café would be my wife.
Rose was her name and suited her fine,
I suppose it was time that I toed the line.
The day drew near, my best man should be Nick,
But unfortunately he was taken sick.
On the 14th I had to return down to Kent,
It`s a good job that I had not overspent.
Though London to Headcorn was a big drag,
It was there that I had a slight snag.
I had to go to Biddenden about four miles away,
But there were no houses going that way.
I wondered what was the best thing to do,
When two Yanks in a jeep appeared out of the blue.
Say guy, they drawled, Where do you want to go?,
I told them exactly and what do you know.
Jump in, they said, we will give you a lift,
They certainly did and my god, did they shift.
The next day I was married in Biddenden church,
No, she didn`t leave me in the lurch.
Everything went according to plan,
But I had to find another best man.
We went up to Rugby for our honeymoon,
But I had to be back at Finmere pretty soon.
Seven days leave was all that I was allowed,
Then it was back to the same old crowd.
Not much had changed back at the base,
Everyone still had the same old look on their face.
One job I remembered and will never forget,
It was quite hair-rasing and made me sweat.
We had to pick up some wagons at Derby MU,
I didn`t know how many but it was quite a few.
The wagons in question were Thorneycrofts you see,
They all stood there looking very ugly.
We were all allocated one vehicle per erk,
And then we had to set to work.
Great lumbering things they turned out to be,
When you sat in the cab, everything you could see.,
A ruddy great steering wheel thrust in your hand,
It made you feel like the Lord of the Land.
We all got aboard and started the engines with a roar,
Your feet would hardly touch the floor.
Your handbrake is on the right-hand side,
And the cab was very very wide.
When you look out of the cab, down at the ground,
You seem much higher than you first found.
Our destination I think was Hertfordshire,
To us it was a very long way from here.
Out of the gate and onto the road,
Wondering where was our next abode.
For the first few miles everything went like a song,
Then outside Shardlow Hall something went wrong.
My lumbering friend came to a sudden halt,
And I suppose I had to find the flippin` fault.
The engine stopped and there wasn`t a sound,
There weren`t even any people around.
I made my way up to the hall,
To give the MU a call.
They said Stop the next truck to give you a tow,
So I went back to the wagon to see what I could do.
Another Thorny came lumbering along,
He asked me what had gone wrong.
We had a quick look but couldn`t get it to go,
So he said I`d better give you a tow.
Out came the rope, well, a thick wire cable,
That was all that was available.
Off we went at a very slow pace,
It was no use trying to race.
Everything was fine while the air tank was full,
But then after the truck had had a good pull.
The air had all gone and the foot brake as well,
Which made life a little like hell.
The hand brake had to be used to keep the wire pretty tight,
But I don`t think the chap realised our plight.
I could really have done with a couple of scotches,
For a start the the hand brake came up a couple of notches.
Steering the monster with my left hand,
Wasn`t exactly very grand.
To reach the hand brake was no easy feat,
You really had to reach out of you seat.
Down the A6 through Loughborough and Leicester,
I was hoping he would no go any faster.
We stopped and had a little snack,
Then into the saddle for another attack.
By now the hand brake was coming back more,
And my behind was feeling pretty bloody sore.
Daylight was fading and night was drawing nigh,
The moon was beginning to show in the sky.
At last we reached our destination,
I must say with plenty of frustration.
We had a good laugh when everything was done,
What is life without a bit of fun?.
We were not at Tingewick very long,
Once more we had to be moving along.
A whisper was to Slindon we were bound,
Once again we would be on strange ground.
New pubs to be found to have a drink,
That could be done as quick as a wink.
Away we went to our new destination,
To Slindon it was with not much hestitation.
When we arrived it was a glorious sight,
Everywhere was covered in bright sunlight.
On through the gates and under the archway,
Which stands there this very day.
We all wondered what we had come to do,
For there were no lorries in view.
All we could see were some tents all around,
Which some turned out to be ours, we found.
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