25 years ago: the next step (part 2)

We arrived at Arron Lines and found we had been allocated beds in a four man room. It was luxury compared with what we had at Swinderby. Other blocks around gave the impression of being like a council estate; the mess and club were a short walk away. There was a NAAFI as well, to cater for all our needs. And we could for a drink any night we liked!

We were told that our course mentor would come to collect us from the block at half eight, and that was it; no inspections, nothing. We went to the mess, had roast beef and all the trimmings and thanked our stars.

Next morning, we made bed packs and were stood to attention when the sergeant came to collect us. You can cut this nonsense out for a start he told us. We noted that.

He marched us to what was to be our other home for the next eight months, Weapon Training Squadron, or WTS, where we would have information and maths and science rammed into our heads. We marched like all airman who had just completed basic training, arms swinging until they were parallel with the ground, we looked good. Cut that out as well we were told, walk in a squad, move your arms, but none of that marching nonsense: you're not on parade now.

We had our course picture taken, then were taken into the hanger to begin our transformation into armourers.

Once again we were bottom of the pile, with all course ahead of us looking down on us: we stood in the vending area trying to look invisible before being called to a classroom to fill in paperwork and begin our basic maths. These would be long days

I suspect that after tea in the mess, we went over to the club for beer and listen to music. I seem to remember Brown Ale was 37p a bottle, and many time I had 37 1p pieces and would pay for my sole drink that way.