In 1959 on this date, 3 February, I reported to RAF Cardington to start National Service. For some reason, while I have a very faulty memory about many things that have happened to me over the past 72 years, I possess almost photographic recall about what occurred that day, and right through square-bashing at Bridgnorth.
Eventually I was posted back to Cardington as ‘Mr 1085′, where I was responsible for processing recruits who had been turned down on medical grounds, an excellent job with my own office and plenty of time to polish my snooker skills in the NAAFI between intakes. I wonder, did anyone out there arrive at my desk, no doubt jumping up and down with glee despite the revelation that they suffered from flat feet?
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