by LAC Browne, printed in the May 1945 edition of Whizz-Bang, the publication of RAF Bicester
Scene: An Orderly Room on the South Coast (3 miles from home)
Time: 17.15 (a little over a year ago).
Thoughts: Pleasant.
Telephone rings . Someone answers it.
"529 Browne… Yes. That's right ... What! .. No! ... That'll shake him . . . O.K."
I did not need the details confirmed. Five months I had been dreading it. Dangling precariously on a piece of string, and now the mighty scissors of Records had cut it and I was falling fast. Yes, I was posted to F.E.U. (Forward Equipment Unit).
Three days later, I set out for Bicester wondering when I should see home again. Arrived, I was billeted with another unfortunate New Arrival in - M.Q. (Married Quarters). It was dilapidated to say the least and that first night got us both down. We went to the NAAFI for consolation. It was packed to capacity and the noise was terrific. From the drift of conversation it was possible to make out that speculation as to what F.E.U. was intended for occupied everyone's attention. That night I slept for the first time in the R.A.F. equivalent of a four poster bed.
The following morning was spent wandering round the usual ports of call. The main idea seemed to be that all New Arrivals were sent on leave immediately. Something went wrong, however, because I had to wait a fortnight.
The days that followed were spent in putting up tents and marquees as if in readiness for a giant garden fete. Then the stocks began to pour in – and bags of work. The boys were obviously handicapped by the lack of proper conditions and mechanical aid. During this time a feud had arisen, half humorous, half in earnest, between O.T.U. ( Operational Training Unit) and F.E.U. Large notices appeared about the Camp – “Who and what are F.E.U.?" As the lodger Unit on the Station we were made to feel our position as interlopers.
The next step was the removal on May 1st to the tented site. This was indeed the beginning of the end. We had enjoyed a brief spell of fine weather, too early to portend a good summer. It rained, and rained and rained! The tents leaked and collapsed; the mud got beyond a joke and the comfort provided by NAAFI was the last word, not that they could have done anything else under the circumstances. Set in a big marquee with a chain running through the centre from end to end from which swung six oil lamps, it presented a gloomy atmosphere. The ‘floor’ was powdered earth, stirred up into clouds of dust constantly circulating due to the many shuffling feet.
On windy nights the walls would flap and the lamps swing about casting dark shadows. The whole presented an appearance of a Wild West Saloon and I always felt that if a couple of cowboys came in and fired off their six shooters, it would have been a welcome relief. In this atmosphere I came nearer to suicide than ever before in my life. But perhaps most demoralising of all was returning late at night off pass and walking up from the L.M.S. Station – to a tent! Then groping around in the dark and wondering where your bed was and if it was made.
But despite all this, there was a grand sense of comradeship amongst the boys. The work went on and the Unit expanded. Soon, somebody took a hand in entertainments and the result was a play, ‘Why Not Tonight?’ soon followed up by "Outward Bound." F.E.U. had come to stay!
It became increasingly obvious that F.E.U. could not remain a mobile Unit, although there were many wild rumours in circulation and none of them particularly inspiring. ‘D’ Day came and went and some grand work was put in by the Unit, but there were no signs of moving off.
After more than the now customary run of wild rumours, O.T.U. packed its bag and departed. This was, indeed, a great day for F.E.U.
The tent dwellers were rehabilitated and installed in what seemed to be, by way of comparison, luxurious mansions with BEDS. I shall never forget the thrill of making and sleeping in a real bed after so many months of living on a plot of ground little bigger than a family vault, and with as much convenience.
All went well for a while. Many interested parties got organised and arranged a weekly programme of varied entertainment for all tastes. Bicester really went to town and ceased to be a morgue. Having come through so much together, it was only natural that everyone should get together and arrange a good programme for Christmas week. This proved to be the Unit's last Christmas. On 31st December, 1944, F.E.U. officially ceased to exist. Out of the ruins rose 246 M.U.
And now we come to the present. Our future here is even more uncertain than it was twelve months ago. Our friends are leaving us right and left and again we are wondering what is to become of us. But with the war in Europe at a close, such changes are inevitable. After all, isn't this the way we want it? We all know that we shall be released one day – soon, we hope, and instead of losing our friends we have merely strengthened the bonds of friendship that will carry us into a new and we hope, a better world.
Yes! We have seen many changes in twelve months. We have met some grand people and learned to take the good with the bad. We won't forget.
L.A.C. BROWNE (G. Group).