Edinburgh
On most of our days off, which was usually one in seven, a few of us would take the train to Edinburgh where we would do some window shopping along Princess Street, sight-seeing, and service club dances. Being the only Canadian in the group I always took the rest of the fellows to the Canadian Legion for a hot dog and chocolate milk shake.
In the Glasgow and Edinburgh area there must have been at least twenty small R.A.F. flying stations and the air got to be pretty crowded at times. Most of the time the whole valley between the two cities was filled with smog due to the heavy industry around Glasgow which was entirely fueled by coal. Sometimes when coming back to land at East Fortune it was easy to become confused and get into the landing pattern of another station. Once I was just touching down when I realized I was not at home, so I opened the throttles and got out of there hoping that no one picked up my ID. When we got into night flying our problems in this regard increased considerably. From above 1000 feet the identification in the complete darkness is a blinking marker beacon which shows the location of a particular airdrome. After the pilot picks it up he maneuvers into the approach and finally picks up the hooded landing lights when the plane is about 500 feet above the ground. At the end of the runway a three colored light control beam is there to assist the pilot in not over or under shooting the runway. The idea is to fly in on the "green" beam because if you're in the "red" beam you could prang short of the end of the runway while if in the "amber" the danger is in running off the far end.
As none of the aircraft operated at night with any running lights the danger of midair collisions was very high, especially in a high traffic area. One night something went by us at high speed and it made me a little nervous for the next few night trips. When you can hear the roar of another aircraft over the hum of your own engines you know it was real close.
One morning our course went into Edinburgh to practice Dinghy drill in the pool at the "Y". At the beginning it was a lot of fun, except that the water was like ice. From a dummy aircraft you had to get out, inflate your dinghy, and climb aboard before you froze to death. I succeeded in flipping the dinghy over on top of me and just about drowned. Afterwards we all went down to the Legion for a hot toddy to try and warm up. The Legion was a very popular place for Canadians and it seemed each time I went in a familiar face would usually be seen. I believe it was the pretty Scottish girls with their shiny clear complexions which was the major attraction to Edinburgh.
About three times a week there was some entertainment on the station, either a movie, dance or ENSA show. The latter usually were variety shows and as East Fortune was a small R.A.F. station, the quality of the talent was near the bottom of the barrel. One night we made the mistake of sitting in the front row near the C.O. and we couldn't easily walk out in the middle of a real "clinker”.
Rather than buy another bike I managed, with the help of a carton of cigarettes, to talk the warrant officer in charge of bikes to issue me a new one. When I had a few hours off I would ride into one of the neighbouring towns - either Haddington or North Berwick, which was a pretty vacation town on the Firth of Forth. One could usually find a small cafe and if lucky talk the proprietor into bacon and eggs, and if not so lucky you could at least have tea and crumpets.
I set aside Wednesday and Saturday evenings for letter writing and this was done propped up in bed listening to the songs of Vera Lynn or Ann Shelton, who were the most popular artists of that era. Some of the other chaps in the barracks would on occasion drop by, especially if I had just received a parcel from home. They knew at that time I was a good source of cookies, chocolate, honey, peanut butter and raspberry jam.
The Women's Auxiliary Air Force (W.A.A.F.) on this station handled a lot of the jobs normally looked after by the ground crew. Their wages averaged about .50 cents for an eight hour day which included cleaning aircraft, strapping pilots into their cockpit seats and turning over the engine propellers by hand. Most of them seemed to be a happy, carefree lot with few worries.
We completed our ground school course about two weeks before Christmas, but due to bad weather we had fallen behind in our flying schedule. A couple of snow storms a few days apart closed down the airport completely. As they had no heavy duty snow removal equipment, guess who along with a few dozen others were out at the end of a shovel trying to clear the runway and taxiways? By the time we had just about finished the rains came and completed the job for us. A lot of the snow did remain on the surrounding hills though and it made for some picturesque flying.
As none of the aircraft operated at night with any running lights the danger of midair collisions was very high, especially in a high traffic area. One night something went by us at high speed and it made me a little nervous for the next few night trips. When you can hear the roar of another aircraft over the hum of your own engines you know it was real close.
One morning our course went into Edinburgh to practice Dinghy drill in the pool at the "Y". At the beginning it was a lot of fun, except that the water was like ice. From a dummy aircraft you had to get out, inflate your dinghy, and climb aboard before you froze to death. I succeeded in flipping the dinghy over on top of me and just about drowned. Afterwards we all went down to the Legion for a hot toddy to try and warm up. The Legion was a very popular place for Canadians and it seemed each time I went in a familiar face would usually be seen. I believe it was the pretty Scottish girls with their shiny clear complexions which was the major attraction to Edinburgh.
About three times a week there was some entertainment on the station, either a movie, dance or ENSA show. The latter usually were variety shows and as East Fortune was a small R.A.F. station, the quality of the talent was near the bottom of the barrel. One night we made the mistake of sitting in the front row near the C.O. and we couldn't easily walk out in the middle of a real "clinker”.
Rather than buy another bike I managed, with the help of a carton of cigarettes, to talk the warrant officer in charge of bikes to issue me a new one. When I had a few hours off I would ride into one of the neighbouring towns - either Haddington or North Berwick, which was a pretty vacation town on the Firth of Forth. One could usually find a small cafe and if lucky talk the proprietor into bacon and eggs, and if not so lucky you could at least have tea and crumpets.
I set aside Wednesday and Saturday evenings for letter writing and this was done propped up in bed listening to the songs of Vera Lynn or Ann Shelton, who were the most popular artists of that era. Some of the other chaps in the barracks would on occasion drop by, especially if I had just received a parcel from home. They knew at that time I was a good source of cookies, chocolate, honey, peanut butter and raspberry jam.
The Women's Auxiliary Air Force (W.A.A.F.) on this station handled a lot of the jobs normally looked after by the ground crew. Their wages averaged about .50 cents for an eight hour day which included cleaning aircraft, strapping pilots into their cockpit seats and turning over the engine propellers by hand. Most of them seemed to be a happy, carefree lot with few worries.
We completed our ground school course about two weeks before Christmas, but due to bad weather we had fallen behind in our flying schedule. A couple of snow storms a few days apart closed down the airport completely. As they had no heavy duty snow removal equipment, guess who along with a few dozen others were out at the end of a shovel trying to clear the runway and taxiways? By the time we had just about finished the rains came and completed the job for us. A lot of the snow did remain on the surrounding hills though and it made for some picturesque flying.