RAF ATCC ISMAILIA 1954-55
As Remembered By Jack (Taff) Williams
At 18, I enlisted for the RAF. I was
brought up on a farm in the centre of Monmouthshire. Although I loved the countryside,
the furthest I had been was the annual trip to the seaside – either Barry
Island or Porthcawl with the local chapel. I must have been one of the most
naïve people to have joined the forces but I wanted to see the outside
world.
I had to go to Cardiff to find a recruiting centre. After taking a test I was accepted. You can imagine my feelings when I had to go to Cardington. We hung around playing cards etc. for a few days before being kitted out and sworn in. Now I experienced the real forces!
Everything was done at the double and, in those days, it was webbing and brasses. If you weren’t running then you were cleaning! We left Cardington and went, via Northampton, to West Kirby. Arriving at the railway station there, all our kitbags were strewn over a large tarmac car park. We were lined up and ‘stood at ease’ for about half an hour. If anyone moved they had the wrath of 3 NCO’s . Then Cpl Holloway shouted “Does anyone smoke?” Not a sound! Again, “Does anyone smoke?”. A little voice piped up “Yes Corporal”. His response “Well F’ing smoke then” – but not so polite. It was getting dusk when a few ‘garries’ appeared. The last persons to find their kitbags were on a charge! It was like a scrum with people lighting matches and using lighters to locate their gear. The kitbags were put on the ‘garries’ and taken to RAF West Kirby and we had to wait until they came back to collect us. Arriving at West Kirby, all the gear this time was all over the Parade Ground. Same routine but this time it was me that was on a charge.
Square Bashing at West Kirby - 1953
That night we were shown the proper
way to fold sheets and blankets. Then we spent half the night polishing the
billet. It was close to midnight when we thought we had finished. Suddenly the
door burst open and the squadron who had just passed out threw buckets of water
over the floor! Eight weeks later we got our own back.
I took a wireless operators course so had to go to Compton Bassett, Wiltshire. You expected less ‘bull’ there but we were in for a shock. All the stones were painted white and the grass would have done credit to Wimbledon. The billets too had to be spick and span. The course there was six months. All except one passed the course, he finished up as Ablutions Orderly! A friend of mine, Frank Spencer (no a different one) and I made it a habit to go to the Jolly Miller every Thursday night and we had good times playing darts with the locals. The relaxation must have been good as we had about the highest marks. Towards the end of the course we had to choose our postings – choices were: Far East (top), Germany (2nd), UK (3rd) & Middle East (last). We had one WRAF on our course and she got Abingdon – the other 29 got the Middle East.
We had a fortnights leave and then had to go to Stanstead. I was now a seasoned traveler but I didn’t fancy flying to Egypt via Malta on a York. I was not the only apprehensive one. The flight was like a roller-coaster continuously climbing and dropping. The Yorks did not have the greatest reputation at the time. After re-fuelling at Malta we flew on to Fayid arriving at approx. 0300 hrs. After being picked up by ‘garries’ we had gone from freezing to sweating as we made the journey to Ismailia. By now it was now daylight.
We called in the Guardroom to ask where ATCC was. The MP told us to walk to the end of the road and then across the airfield which was seldom used. Four of us were ambling along when all of a sudden a flare went up, then a siren went off and a fire tender and engine were coming towards us. An Avro Anson was due to land. We feared the worst but when we explained that an MP had told us to go this way the response was “He didn’t say up the runway though!” – luckily we got away with just a ticking off.
On ‘tented site’ we were greeted by a large canvas sheet rolled up, a large centre pole and a lot a steel pegs. Much to the delight of the onlookers, there was no help and no advice! After a struggle we managed to erect it. Later Joe, the W.O. made himself known and gave us our work-shift pattern.
To get to ATCC we were driven through Moascar Garrison, through RAF Ismailia main camp, over the RE Bridge and up the El Firdan Road. The three shifts insured there was 24 hour attendance there at all times. We had a DATCO i/c, 2 operations clerks, a sergeant i/c of the wireless operators and 2 teleprint operators.
The first set you were put on was
a Cairo. They were a civilian outfit and you were lucky to get them in your
8 hour shift. As you got more experienced you went on the busy sets and finally
you graduated to ‘air to ground’. We covered an area from 24 East
to 40 East. Although we had the Canal Zone Crisis and later the Suez Crisis
(I was in Cyprus when the latter occurred) I enjoyed my time in Egypt. We had
a couple of very enjoyable Christmases there and I managed to get around by
playing sport.
Guard duty was daunting as you had to patrol the barbed wire fence with fairy lights at intervals. For anyone in the desert, you were a sitting duck.
There was a large open-air cinema which we often went to before doing a night shift. All the time we were confined to camp until the last few months when we were allowed to go to Ismailia. Vic Harrison and I used to go there and later I met my best mate that I had grown up with in our home village. He was in the Army and used to drive married families to shop in Port Said at weekends.
By working ‘air to ground’ you could chat to the WOP on the aircraft. Luckily I met up with a Johnny Johnson who was on the VIP flight with Governor Foot and General Harding. Thanks to him I managed trips to Kartoum, Amman, Aden, Oman and Shanfah. Bahrain and Habbyania. I will always be grateful to Johnny for seeing these places.
In 1955 the whole section was posted to Nicosia. Here we had proper billets but worked in portacabins. At this time EOKA were operating in Cyprus and, once again, it was confined to camp.
I was on duty and worked the ill-fated York Ansi on it’s flight to Malta and chatted in morse to the wireless operator. Unfortunately I never got his name. When the York got to 24E, Malta ATCC took over.
We had an excellent sports section in Nicosia, both station and section sides in football and cricket. I may have been lucky as CO S/Ldr Woodcraft was officer i/c of ATCC and also officer i/c of football. Through this I managed to miss all guards and kit inspections.
I was on duty the morning that all the aircraft flew from the UK for the Suez Crisis. On average you took about 40 signals on a morning shift – that day I took 130.
My biggest drawback to the Suez was that I was kept behind for another 50 days over my service time.
Life in the Middles East, especially in dress sense, was a lot easier than in the UK. Ernie Drice, who I did a lot of my service with, and we were on our way to Innsworth for demob. We were ambling down Gloucester Station when “Airmen, where do you think you are?!” – it was a Warrant Officer. We were in working dress with berets in our lapels. A crowd witness a good dressing down and we knew we were back in the UK.
After demob I went back to the farm for a while. If I had my time all over again I wouldn’t change a thing of my service life – thoroughly enjoyable. The big decision was whether to sign on again or come out – I decided on the latter.
If anyone reading this remembers me I would love to hear from them.
Some of my friends from ATCC Ismailia:
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Myself centre, Vic Harrison lounging in chair |
Myself with Pete Fuller |
Myself with Vic Harrison |
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Myself with Joe Pearson |
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ATCC Ismailia Cricket Team |
'A' Watch, ATCC Ismailia |
Mahmood, our tent cleaner |
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John Powell, RASC, from my home village & me |  | |
Myself on Night Watch |
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Scenes In & Around Ismailia
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Ismailia Railway Station |
Boulevard Sultan Hussein, Ismailia |
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Ismailia |
Sweetwater Canal | |
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Sweetwater Canal |
Roman Catholic Church |
War Memorial, Ismailia |
