THE HISTORY OF THE R.N.Z.A.F. STATION, OHAKEA, 1939.

Erk's Work, 1 February 1941, Page 3

THE HISTORY OF THE R.N.Z.A.F. STATION, OHAKEA, 1939.

When war broke out between Britain and France, on the one side, and Germany on the other, the 4th of September, 1939, found us, in New Zealand, by no means unprepared. Apart from military and naval preparations, this Dominion had numerous aerodromes and camps already established for the training of pilots, observers, etc. But those in authority were not satisfied, even then, that all had been done, and it was decided to open another air-station.

Exactly nine days after hostilities in Europe had broken out, Ohakea Air-Station was born !

On the morning of September 12th, 1939, the first airman arrived. He was A.C.I. R. B. Smith, shortly to be promoted to Corporal, and now, unfortunately, deceased. How his heart would have glowed, could he have looked into the future, and seen to what an extent the empty site would eventually be covered by costly buildings, and peopled by upwards of a thousand airmen. Two days later, reinforcements arrived, consisting of A/Sergt. (now F/Sergt.) W. S. Smith; L.A.C. (now Sergt.) N. A. Millar; A.C.I. (now Corporal) K. McGill, and A.C.I. now L.A.C.) P. A. Hines. At once the task of establishing the Station was commenced, and these five airmen lost no time in showing the rest of the world what New Zealanders could do when called upon in an emergency.

On September 18th, the little party was joined by Flight Lieutenant (now Squadron Leader) E. G. Gedge, M.C., and Flight Lieutenant E. N. Rabone, the former taking over as Commanding Officer, while the latter acted as Station Adjutant.

Warrant-Officer Baker came next with ten of the Station Staff and preparations were at once made for the advent of the first draft of recruits who were due to arrive on the following day, viz., September 20th.

Previous to these arrivals, the Public Works Department had been in possession of the ground for some considerable time, but, although the work of constructing the camp was well in hand, none of the permanent buildings had been completed. The existing Air Staff messed in the P.W.D. camp, and as the kitchens were not ready when the recruits arrived, they were given their first meal—breakfast- —in Palmerston North, before leaving for camp. In any case, the limited accommodation of the P.W.D. mess hut would have been hopelessly overtaxed by the invasion of Flights of hungry

recruits, but Sergeant Perreau proved a tower of strength. By superhuman efforts, he managed to get one of the stoves working, and on September 30th the first meal was cooked on the Station.

The following day was a busy one for all concerned, and an important one in the history of Ohakea. The first task was the attesting of all the recruits, and taking their measurements for uniforms, the latter, always to be remembered in the life of a man, be he airman, soldier or sailor. Later the recruits were organised into Flights, and, until the following morning, employed in interior economy. From a Headquarters point of view, September 24th was a very important day in the annals of Ohakea, for on that date the first Routine Orders were published, together with provisional Station Standing Orders. Although this does not sound very exciting, it was something to be proud of when it is realised that every copy had to be typed by hand. As the only typewriter on the Station was a small portable one owned by Flight Lieutenant Rabone, this was no mean feat. However, by making an early start, sufficient copies were turned out by 1600 hours to supply all the notice-boards. Perhaps the 25th of September, 1939, was actually the most momentous occasion in the history of Ohakea, and one little likely to be forgotten by those who were on the Station at that time. This never-to-be-forgotten event was the first Squadron parade!

What a scene it was!

As a parade it was unique—and as a fashion display it could not be paralleled! Every description of dress appeared, from the latest creation of the Dominion’s most select tailors, right down to the lowly flannel bags—in fact, one recruit even had the temerity to appear in-—plus fours ! The remarks of his fellows were, as may be imagined, more expressive than polite, and anything but polite. They indicated, in unmistakable language, that “plus fours” were simply not the correct dress for such an occasion. However, bright plumage does not necesasrily make fine birds, and what these young airmen recruits lacked in sartorial adornment, they certainly made up for in—enthusiasm. The aforementioned default was soon remedied, for, on the 26th the majority of the men were enabled to exchange their motley clothing for suits of navy blue combinationoveralls, the regulation work-dress of the Air Force. After that, the parade ground had a less upsetting appearance, although the variety of civilian headgear left much to be desired.

Another incident that marks September, 1939, as being the most fateful month, occurred on the 26th. This was the arrival on the flying-field of the first plane, No. 2KAAC,

piloted by Squadron Leader (now Wing Commander) Gibson! All training was immediately interrupted as all eyes—even the instructors’—were at once turned on the visitor. How these young airmen must have longed to have been the pilot. It is safe to say that their heads were too full of calculations as to when they would be able to emulate Squadron Leader Gibson, to hold details of such an uninteresting movement as flight drill! They were also beginning to discover that the term “aircraftsman” did not imply that they would spend most of their time flying through the air, but that the instrument they would manipulate mostly is described in requisition orders as brooms—common-—with handle ! September 29th was a red-letter day in the recruits’ calendar, but all ointment is said to contain a fly—and they found one in theirs. Issues were made that day, for the first time, of Air Force uniforms, but, alas —no caps ! To complete their discomfiture, the Commanding Officer issued an edict that recruits could not go on leave unless they were properly dressed—viz., in uniform, complete with cap! Heavens! What a disappointment to these embyro airmen who had been cherishing enchanting visions of creating great impressions on the hearts of the fair sex. However, fortune smiled on their adversity, for, a scant half-hour before the leave bus was due on the Saturday, word flashed round from one end of the camp to the other, that Stores had received a box of airman’s caps! A wild rush was made to the Store at once, and many were the excuses offered as to why they, in particular, should be issued with caps immediately. Much to everyone’s surprise, the Stores people displayed, for the first time, an air of goodwill towards all men, and issued caps as far as they would go. Half-an-hour later, the leave bus departed, laden with happy airmen, impatient to get home, and feeling very important. Their one idea being to impress upon their friends that they were all Squadron Leaders, etc., at the least. In fact, one budding airman even went so far as to claim the high honour of Wing Commander!

Exactly one month after war broke out, tragedy touched this young Air Station. On the 3rd of October, the first fatality occurred, culminating with the sudden death of A.C.I. C. H. Tayler.

A week later, on October 9th, all ranks paraded for dental examination, and great were the expectations of many an airman, who had visions of extensive free dental treatment. Unhappily, these were doomed to disappointment, as nothing further was done in the matter for many a long day. Meanwhile, the leisure hours of the airmen had not been forgotten, and on October 9th the first entertainment was

given in the Social Hall. The Palmerston North Little Theatre Society presented three excellent one-act plays. The Social Hall was not the splendid room it is to-day, for the building had not been completed, nor was it furnished. Entry to the hall had to be made by means of a temporary staircase, specially erected for the occasion. Nevertheless, by extraordinary efforts of organisation, the artists and personnel of the Station were marshalled into the hall and the function held.

Perhaps the greatest red-letter day in the lives of those who partook of No. 1 Recruit Course was on October 18th, for on that day they completed their training and were posted to their different Stations as full-blown airmen! History relates that on arrival at their new Stations, the drafts were still “full-blown”—but not with pride.

On the 23rd, No. 2 Recruit Course marched in, and in addition, sixteen observers arrived to undergo recruit training prior to the commencement of the Observers’ Course. Changes in administration were made on November 9th, when Squadron Leader A. G. Gerrand assumed command of the Station and Flight Lieutenant Gedge, M.C. took over the duties of Adjutant. An upward step in the status of the Station took place on November 20th, when Ohakea ceased to be a Recruit Depot and was elevated to the position of Air Observers’ Training School. The first classes of gunnery commenced on that day. This followed the completion of No. 2 Recruit Course, and the posting of the men to their various Stations on November 15th.

December 12th saw the culmination of the airmen’s ambitions, viz., the despatch of the first draft for overseas duty. This was No. 1 Air Gunners’ Course.

A day to be remembered by senior N.C.O.s was December 13th, when the Sergeants’ Mess was officially opened. Judging by the lack of enthusiasm on the following day, the opening ceremony must have been an unqualified success. Group Captain L. M. Isitt, Acting Chief of the Air Staff, made his first official visit to the Station on December 19th.

On December 23rd, the Station closed down for our first Christmas leave, bringing to an end our first year of service as an Air Station.

(To be continued).