Chapter 2

Flying was more concentrated now and quite a lot of time was used doing cross-country flights, both alone and in formation. We would probably fly at least three times a day, and if formation was included in those flights your shirt and trousers would be soaked in perspiration, but I enjoyed every moment and longed to be backup there without a care in the world. Flying in formation at night took quite a bit of getting used to, you tucked inside the other planes navigation lights, but the flames coming from your own exhaust manifold could be most off putting. Only did about four-night formation flights, thank goodness!
May 16th 1942 arrived and I with others was presented with due ceremony, our RAF and American Pilots Wings (or Brevet), by an RAF Squadron Leader. American top brass with a full military band in attendance. Pleased and as proud as punch to be wearing wings.
This also meant an immediate increase in Pay as we had all become Sgt/Pilots or Plt./Officers if commissioned.

We were now all sergeant pilots except for the odd bod who had been commissioned before transferring to flying duties, but were offered the chance to remain in the States, take a short course and become a qualified flying instructor, on passing this course be automatically commissioned as Pilot Officer, or return home and hope to be posted to an operational squadron. Bill and Helen did their utmost to make me apply for the Instructor course, with Bill saying he would ensure I would have a good position with his Bank if I would return when hostilities had ceased.
Len, by this time had completed his training as a draughtsman, and had arrived in the States to begin his flying training. Another schoolboy pal called Alec Shipway, (who was later to be awarded the DFC and Bar for his exploits in Lancaster Bombers) had received his Wings at the same time as me, but at a Twin Engine flying school, joined me on a Greyhound Bus trip to visit Len at his Primary Flying School, wish him all the best, telling him that if we could do it, he would find it a piece of cake. Shortly after visiting Len and with 200 hrs flying time in my Log Book we set sail for home, this time three or four to a cabin and a pretty formidable escort. This escort consisted of a large Battle Cruiser together with four Destroyers proving that we were far more valuable now trained than when we came out 9 months previously, our convoy home consisted of far fewer ships than the outward trip. We arrived in blacked out Liverpool sometime in June 1942 and the following morning entrained for a long stop, start, journey through green and lush English countryside to Bournemouth on the south coast, where we joined hundreds of other trained aircrew awaiting postings. The weather was fine and Mum and Dad came down from Bristol to see their clever son, it was grand to be home and see my parents again even though we were not given leave passes.