leave the gear down. The landing was normal and, apart from minor distortion on one of the main-wheel ‘D’ doors, no damage had occurred. Nevertheless I received one hell of a rocket for not having seen the high-flow selection on the instructor’s oxygen-control box and for not noticing my depleted oxygen tank reading before suffering hypoxia.
Shortly after this, Wing Commander Wilson flew me on progress checks and Squadron Leader Dicky Bradshaw conducted my instrument flying test, which was successfully flown on Wednesday, 6 August 1958. This was a day I can never forget!
Beryl and I had been engaged for fourteen months at this stage. Apart from Beryl’s objections to sex before marriage, her mother had planted a notion in our minds that made us decide to get married in secret. Beryl had turned twenty-one two days before, so parental consent was not an issue and we both believed we could keep our marriage secret.
Immediately after my IF test we motored to Bulawayo on the pretext of visiting my brother Tony, who was there on secondment for Territorial Army training. In reality, we had an appointment to be married in the Magistrate’s Court. At three o’clock we were ushered into a room with the magistrate and his assistant. A moment or two later two people, who worked in the Magistrate’s Court, came in to act as witnesses. One of these was a girl from Gwelo. She immediately recognised and greeted Beryl. In so doing she had blown our secret out of the water even before the marriage had taken place! But there was no way out of the situation.
Having been officially pronounced man and wife we visited friends of Beryl’s folks who lived in Bulawayo. This was part of our cover plan but it turned out to be a bad mistake. The family cat took to Beryl in a big way and nothing would induce the long-haired creature to leave her alone.
Beryl had become a chronic bronchial asthmatic as a young girl, which led her parents to move from Britain to the drier climate of Rhodesia. For the most part she had been fine throughout her latter teens but certain irritants, one of which was cats’ hair, could trigger a severe asthmatic attack. Beryl struggled for breath all the way back to Gwelo and any idea of consummating our marriage on our wedding night was lost. I had to get her home to her parents and bed. Then, back in my own single-quarter room I lay on my back and, looking at the ceiling, asked myself aloud “What have you done PB? Have you just destroyed your own future and made Beryl’s uncertain?”
Two days passed before Beryl’s mother made singsong utterings about a little bird having told her a secret. Though she would not tell Beryl what this secret was, it was quite clear that she had heard about our marriage. So we felt compelled to come clean with the folks, who both took the news very well. The Air Force would be another matter! Nevertheless, I decided I had to let Wing Commander Wilson know right away
When I went to the CO’s personal secretary to make an appointment for the following day, her face lit up and away she rushed to the CO’s office. The next moment she called out, “Officer Cadet Petter-Bowyer, the CO will see you now.” I went cold because I had not yet worked out what to say, but it was very obvious to me that the secretary was tapped into Gwelo’s gossip network.
I had absolutely no feeling below my waist. My upper body seemed to glide through the door into the CO’s office and it stopped automatically in front of his desk. An involuntary salute occurred and I could not speak until the CO asked me what my business was. “Sir, I have come to let you know that I married Beryl last week. I need to tell you this before anyone else does.” The Wing Commander’s face told it all. He was dumbfounded and seemed not to know what to say or do. Then he rose from his chair, came around the desk and extended his hand saying, “Let me be the first to congratulate you.”
Archie Wilson was well known for his handshake and many stories have been told of the agony suffered by many an unprepared hand. Those who knew him well made quite certain that they put their hand in rapidly to avoid his snap-action vice-grip from trapping their fingers. I was taken by surprise because his hand trapped my fingers so fiercely that all feeling returned to my legs and I was in such pain that I found myself almost on tiptoes. There was silence between us as he looked me directly in the eye, maintaining his grip on my severely graunched fingers.
“I did not have to get married, sir”, I said in a high-pitched voice. Whereupon the CO let go and said he was relieved to hear this. He invited me to take a seat as he returned to his own. Then, rubbing his chin and looking blankly at his desk, he remained silent. I piped up again, this time in a normal voice, and told him why I had got married. He seemed impressed by Beryl’s attitude to premarital sex and understood my response to this.
Very quietly he told me that I was to continue as normal and he would handle Group HQ in his own time. I was instructed to let the members of my course know my situation and ask them to keep my news to themselves. I found my course mates at Station Equipment Section drawing their wings and pilot Officer-rank braid for our forthcoming Wings Parade.
Two days later Wing Commander Wilson conducted my final handling test for wings. I passed and together with my ten colleagues received my wings on 19 August 1958 from Sir Roy Welensky, the Prime Minister of the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland. There was no presentation of the Sword of Honour for the best student on 10 SSU but Dave Thorne was presented a book by OC Flying to acknowledge the fact that he attained the best all- round position on our course.
This was quite a day for Bill Galloway to receive his wings and promotion to acting pilot officer because it was his 21st birthday. The Wings ball that evening was the first such occasion for the Royal Rhodesian Air Force at Thornhill, the forerunner of many to follow.
Operational Conversion Unit
ON 10 SEPTEMBER, MY COURSE moved into the Operational Conversion Unit (OCU) phase, which was the final stage of our two-year course. This was by far the most interesting period of training, during which we learned to use our aircraft as weapons platforms.
First Flight Lieutenant Ted Brent taught me to fire 20mm cannons, He and his wonderful wife Di were to become very close friends to Beryl and me. Ted was a gentleman through and through and his manner appealed to me from the moment I met him. On the ground and in the air his instructional techniques were very detailed and polished, which made learning a pleasure. In flight, he suggested corrections to my dive angle and aiming errors in a manner that helped me bring my strikes to target without ever making me feel pressurised or foolish.
Flight Lieutenant Frank Mussell (John’s elder brother) was a good Pilot Armament Instructor (PAI) too, though his superior manner somewhat undermined the confidence I thought was needed between instructor and student, particularly during advanced training. Frank introduced me to the delivery of 60-pound rockets. Next, I flew with a very different instructor who had come from the RAF.
Flight Lieutenant Sandy Mutch, then the Flight Commander heading weapons training for No 1 Squadron, was bulldoggish in appearance and during his pre-flight briefings. In line with his personality he was very harsh in aircraft handling. He instructed me in low and high dive-bombing. When I made attacks, he had the nasty habit of grabbing the controls when my flight line was not to his liking and pressing his bomb-release button before I could press mine. This had never occurred with my other instructors so I was pleased that my solo bombing results were better than during instruction.
Having said this, I must say how grateful we were when Sandy persuaded Group HQ to let our course accompany elements of No 1 Squadron to Nairobi for that city’s annual Royal Agricultural Show. Aerobatic and
