Spitfire Girl by Moggridge Jackie

Author:Moggridge, Jackie [Moggridge, Jackie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Head of Zeus

29

‘Now what?’ asked Reg suspiciously some months later as I opened a large O.H.M.S. envelope.

‘I was thinking of joining the air force,’ I replied, meekly.

‘Oh. Is that all,’ he said heavily.

‘Yes, dear.’

‘Which?’

‘Which what?’

‘Which air force?’

‘The Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve of course.’

‘What’s the matter, wouldn’t the Russians have you?’ he said, referring to my partisanship for the only air force in the world that has operational women pilots.

‘Don’t be silly, Reg. I’m serious.’

‘I’m sure you are,’ he brooded.

I left it at that for the time being, drove to R.A.F.V.R. Western Command headquarters, near Bristol and met the Commanding Officer of the Reserve Unit. He was intrigued by my suggestion that I should join his unit but was genuinely flummoxed what to do with me, an occupational disease with the R.A.F. as far as I am concerned. We had tea in the officers’ mess whilst he looked through the files and regulations to decide whether he could have a female in his unit and, if so, what sort of specimen she should be. He scratched his head, admitted defeat and suggested I return home until he had investigated further.

He wrote to me later stating that the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve would be delighted for me to join them under a new policy of recruiting experienced women pilots. I would hold a temporary non-commissioned rank of airwoman until I qualified as Pilot Class IV.

The R.A.F.V.R. consisted primarily of ex-R.A.F. personnel who had reserve commitments, voluntary or otherwise, and a small number of experienced pilots and ground crew voluntarily recruited direct from civilian life. They were, broadly speaking, civilians except when attending lectures and flying training. Thus being a member of the R.A.F.V.R. conferred many of the privileges of the R.A.F. with negligible sacrifice of civilian freedom.

Distributed throughout the country were a dozen or so flying schools where V.R. pilots during their spare time reported for flying training and lectures. Each pilot was expected to complete a minimum of forty hours’ flying annually, usually over the week-ends and to attend evening lectures twice a week.

In this way, and at comparatively little expense, a reserve of pilots was maintained in what may be described as the third line air force whose worth in an emergency would be incalculable.

The highlight of the year was the two weeks’ compulsory attendance at an annual summer camp. Each R.A.F.V.R. unit seconded its members in batches of six or so to a regular R.A.F. station where they received the full impact of service life. During this period they lived on the station, wore uniform and were expected to conceal civilian decadence.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I would also receive a salary, flying pay and out-of-pocket expenses totalling approximately one hundred pounds per annum for the privilege and pleasure of flying His Majesty’s aircraft.

I was all set.

‘Reg,’ I said as he sat at his desk.

‘No!’

I let fall a poignant tear. Just one in the brooding silence. I turned my face to the window so that he could see it, but he was oblivious.

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