Not Good Enough? – Grahame May (25th)

When my brother visited me in Wroughton Hospital in early June 1957 he told me he was considering leaving the RAF Education Branch and emigrating to teach in Canada. At first this did not sink in as I was still reeling from the bad experiences I recently had during my three months in the Pay Accounts at RAF Middleton St George, as well as the subsequent onset of pleurisy which had landed me here in hospital. I told my brother about the unhelpful characters in the Accounts Office such as the morose, overweight Scots Corporal who enjoyed saying ”You are supposed to be the gen kiddie” whenever I asked him a question, the Accounting Officer who said the only thing I was good at was giving parade ground salutes, the Sergeant and two other ranks who turned a blind eye to everything that went on and the National Service jerk who kept saying that my J/T stripe was on upside down . My brother listened and then said he had already asked the hospital Medical Officer about my condition and apparently it was very unlikely that I would be allowed to stay in the service. In a way this came as a bit of a relief but I still felt I could make a go of things given the right situation. (This sounds silly now but I had not yet come to terms with the last five months during which my world had been turned upside down and inside out!)
Fast forward to April 1958 and I was with a girlfriend from work on a bus which just happened to stop near the aerodrome so that several RAF lads could get on. One of them seemed a bit familiar but I was too engrossed in other matters to pay too much notice. A tap on the shoulder, however, brought me round and there was the familiar face. He asked me if I would like to come and meet the poor sod who had been posted in to clear things up after I had left. I graciously declined the offer and the girl and I hurriedly got off the bus at the next stop. “What was that all about?’ she asked but I was unable to give a sensible answer. ”It sounded to me as though you were just NOT GOOD ENOUGH at something or other” the girl said, and then added a sarcastic little comment about our physical relationship. Needless to say that proved to be the end of the affair and we soon went our separate ways.

I have been back to Middleton St George (now Teesside Airport) several times in the past and always felt uncomfortable when I got near to the old Station Headquarters that once housed the Pay Accounts Office. Why did I do this? Heaven knows, because it did not prove anything nor did it change the way I felt. { I suppose it never will !)
Before my brother and his wife and little boy left for Canada we sat down together and I thanked him for everything. He then confessed that his own service career had become rather mundane and aimless, just doing the same things that Education Officers do, firstly at RAF Kirton Lindsay and then at RAF Manby, neither of which were exactly front line stations. He said that when he realised he was just treading water it became obvious that a new career in a new country was probably the best answer. When the wife and I were invited over to his home on Vancouver Island in British Columbia some fifteen or so years later, it was obvious that he really had made the right decision. He was the Headmaster at a local education college and had added a second boy and a girl to the family.