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Glynn’s war time memories have been recalled by his Brother, Gerry Howe.

Glynn soon discovered that this new kit had to be stored in a huge canvas bag. Not only was it to be stored in this cavernous receptacle, regulations decreed how each item should be folded. He soon learned that sailors’ bell-bottomed trousers needed to be turned inside out and each leg was given seven equidistant folds! “Remember” said the kit instructor, “there’s seven seas in the world and your trousers must show it, not more and not less.” Those young men must have wondered why they had volunteered to join this strange new existence.

In fact there is a very sound reason for all this peculiar equipment folding and storage but at the time it seemed rather bizarre, to say the least.

After a couple of weeks or so, his intake was transferred to the Fleet Air Arm barracks a Lee-on-Solent, on the south coast of England, Life at Lee, known as “HMS Daedalus”, was very disciplined.

These young men were taught how to march, drill, fire a Lee Enfild rifle, throw a live grenade, without blowing-up themselves or their shipmates. There was daily physical education, assault courses to be mastered, wireless telegraphy to be learned and much, much more. All this activity was monitored by their officers. Those who made the grade were selected for further flying training. Those who didn’t were transferred to other branches of the Royal Navy.

Glynn was full of pride. He, and several of his close mates had made the grade. What was more, they had been allocated places on the training draft to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. After all the privations of war torn Britain, word had it that Canada was a ;and flowing of milk and honey! Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but at least you got enough to eat and the girls were quite friendly! He was sent home for seven days leave, to tidy up his affairs, and prepare for the “Great Unknown”.

Not much is known of the journey across the Atlantic, other than it was decidedly uncomfortable. Letters home tended to be brief telegram like epistles, which were micro-filmed, to save space and weight and then enlarged before being sent to the addressee. Furthermore, they had to be very discrete to get past the censors who read specimens of all mail that might be useful to the enemy!

Glynn and I had devised a “secret” code which he would use to let me know that he e was likely to be coming back to England. It was perfectly simple. We agreed that he would wish me a “Happy Birthday” for the date if his move. No one else would know that it wasn’t my birthday, particularly the Nazis!

This story was submitted to the People's War website by Jim Salveson of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Glynn Howe & Gerry Howe and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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