Leadership, stamina, survival-these are the elements of the new grad course
that turns RCAF aircrew into…
by Sgt – Bombaimer Irv Johns
(Republished from the April 1944 issue of Wings – Log of the RCAF)
The morning stillness shattered into echoing action as a yelling, leaping group of figures streaked across a field, caromed off the top of high barriers, tore through barbed wire entanglements, and were momentarily silhouetted against the early sky on high-swinging ropes to disappear down the road like Gunder Haegg in a hurry.
And that, brother, is how air graduates are being trained to travel now.
In the most outstanding addition to the “flying” syllabus for some time, all aircrew will now complete a month’s gruelling workout at an Air Graduate Training School, before continuing overseas. Four centres are now in full swing, No 1 at Maitland, N.S., and No 2 at Quebec City are stations for commissioned graduates, with No 3 at Three Rivers, Que., and No 4 at Valleyfield, Que., accommodating the sergeant graduates. ,
Newly-winged fliers fresh from months of Service life as trainees under instruction suddenly find themselves on the other end of the stick at these grad schools. Leadership is what they’re here to learn — and they learn by getting out and tackling tough field assignments on their own and taking turns in directing the combined efforts ofthe groups to which they are assigned. They’re made to realize that with those bright new stripes and rings they’ve also taken on a chunk of responsibility for helping to run their part of the war.
But perhaps the biggest eye-opener for the boys is the action close-up the course gives them of how an army operates, as taught by veteran army instructors for a two-fold practical purpose. First, every flying man must understand the close link between air and ground operations if he is to pull his weight in the giant scale combined operations to come. Second, when those operations start any flier is apt to bail out into a battle area where he may have to fight his own way back; or he may find himself temporarily attached to one of our advanced ground units, with his chances of survival depending on his ability to toss grenades or man a Bren gun.
“Survival” is another vital element of this course for aircrew grads. Because they don’t merely “study” ground warfare tactics but learn by participating in hard-slugging, cross-country schemes, these winged commandos quit the course as hardy and toughened a bunch of fighting men as you’ll find anywhere, having added greatly to the stamina and endurance which will carry them through gruelling hours in enemy skies.
The Commando tricks and ground fighting tactics are handled by experts. Army officers with battletickets which have routed them through Dunkirk, Dieppe and other historic frays, acquaint the skymen with what happens on the ground. Field manoeuvres, battle formations, hand-to-hand fighting and camouflage are a few of the subjects covered. Air Force subjects are also handled by experts, often aircrew veterans just back from ops.
As reports of the new course have travelled down the grapevine to air training schools across the Dominion, airmen nearing their wing parades stop in their tracks, mutter down their beards and consider flying the coop. The reports have a way of becoming distorted. The writer, having recently completed the course, hastens to set the records straight. So we’ll tag along with the commandos on an average day’s manoeuvres at Three Rivers.
Swinging along single file and at a smart dog trot, the party leaves the camp gates early in the morning, heading for the hills. Across their shoulders is strung a hundred-foot length of rope. Once in the hills, the beaten track is abandoned and the men scramble, alpine style, up the rocky terrain. After trekking through the woods for a time, their progress is halted by a chasm, its precipice sheering away almost vertically below. The rope is snubbed to a nearby tree and over the cliff go the commandos, dropping rapidly to the ravine floor. The loose end of the rope is carried up the opposite slope, anchored there, and left to provide a rope bridge for following parties.
Rising above the surrounding terrain ahead is a hill. It has been designated an enemy position and is their objective. The men have been taught the correct method of attack. Just to make sure no mistakes are made, the army instructors, armed with Sten guns, take up strategic positions. A member of the attacking group finds out he is doing something wrong when a whistling slug cuts the air over his tin hat. The men learn quickly, remember well.
The party leader dispatches a group of his men as a “recco” patrol. Scattering out, they “monkey run” where cover permits and “leopard crawl” in partially open territory. The recco lads finally work themselves to points of vantage, observe the enemy and return with reports of his number and activity.
A plan of attack is formulated and the whole party goes into action. A frontal assault has been decided on, with the attackers creeping in as close as possible before exposing themselves. Forward they go. Slightly over-enthused, one member raises his head to take a peek around. Half a dozen slugs whine warningly by, and he flattens.
Finally in position, the party breaks cover, and with an ear-splitting yell that would have echoed back from the rim of creation, they charge the enemy position, using all the commando tactics they’ve learned in an effort to oust the position. Mortars, Sten and rifle fire add realism to the uproar. A winner is declared and the trainees gather around their instructors who point out mistakes made in the attack and answer questions on different types of approach. Each airman has learned that in an army platoon every soldier has a certain duty to carry out, exactly the same as in an aircrew team.
MONKEY ACT
The afternoon’s operations start with a game that would make a monkey out of a monkey. Tied to trees about twenty feet above the ground, two ropes form a horizontal cross. At the base of each tree a team falls in, the first member shinnies up and out on the rope. His job is to crawl across it to the other tree, but of course members of the other teams are also starting across from their trees. The idea is to shake the other fellow off and get across yourself. It has all the patent medicines beat to a frazzle as a cure for after-dinner indigestion.
Now the men get down to a little practice on what to do with Jerry in a hand-to-hand combat. They are shown how to disarm the enemy by some handy trick which usually involves breaking his arm and literally beating him over the head with it. The methods are all quite practical although somewhat at variance with the Marquis of Queensbury rules.
A spot of gun-handling is taken next, with the party moving up to the range. Here they discover for themselves what a handy little gadget the Sten gun is and are given a chance to demonstrate their own accuracy with it. The Bren gun is also an item on the program.
The crew finally returns to camp, tired but not downhearted. A hot shower and a sizzling, supper top off the day. Added up, they have quite probably done in one day the equivalent to a month’s PT at a flying schools And here’s the pay-off. Almost without exception, they didn’t even realize they were doing it. While the training is quite probably the most rigorous they will ever have to take, the method of dispensing it makes it as easy to down as a candy-coated pill. It can be stated here that few and far between are the fellows, who, after the initial week of the course, are not thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Favourite sport is the night scheme in which a group of men are driven from the station after darkness in a blacked-out van to a desolate spot about twenty-five miles from the station and dropped there. They must be back in camp the next morning by 0700 hours. To make it a littlemore interesting a number of SPs are scattered around the countryside to guard bridges and cross-roads and pick up any of the group they may nab. The town police are notified when the manoeuvre is in progress, and are instructed to toss any ‘“prowlers” they may catch into the local jail.
Considerable initiative has been displayed by the boys in getting back. In one case, the night party learned in advance their time of departure. They did a hurried bit of phoning. When the van left the station carrying the coverall-clad party, a cruising taxi immediately started to follow at a safe distance. The boys were deposited in a desolated spot and the van disappeared. Minutes later the taxi appeared on the scene, and the jubliant crew followed the station van right back to town. Having until morning to report, they decided to brush up on a few of the latest steps at the town struttery. At this point, however, their scheme ran amuk. Still wearing their very informal khaki dress, they were quite conspicuous, especially to an SP who dropped in. He promptly slapped the enterprising gentlemen in the sin-bin.
On the less strenuous side, yet of major importance to the grad, are the classroom lectures. Questions concerning technicalities of Service law and discipline which he has encountered during aircrew training are answered by experts. The duties and obligations of his new rank are impressed upon him. Security becomes a subject of interest when translated into terms of his own safety while on operations and in event of his capture by the enemy.
When his month’s course has slipped by, the air graduate is posted to “Y” Depot to await an overseas draft. He will soon come to grips with a new oppositon, and this time the chips will be down. With the confidence that springs from a keen mind and a fit body, he will meet his enemy, and in conquering him will reflect upon the advantage he carries due to the finest aircrew training available, topped by a he-man’s course in the gentle art of survival.