Memoirs of W/O John Hall

Memoirs of Warrant Officer John W. Hall Armaments Section No.6 Squadron

With thanks to John's daughter Nancy Bamford and family for permission to publish his memoirs.

The Air Force and Me
At the time of the outbreak of war my father and I owned a farm at Taupaki. We were about to sell the farm with the thought of purchasing a larger unit. Instead, I decided I was going to join the Air Force. We sold the farm and I insisted that my father take the equity of the farm as he needed support having been injured in an accident on the railway about 10 years previously and he was partially paralysed. My application for the Air Force was accepted and I went for a medical examination. My only interest in the Air Force was to be Aircrew. Unfortunately for me on the medical examination I was found to have a visual defect which made me unsuitable for all aircrew. However the Air Force offered me a position on the ground staff. In this I was not interested in the slightest and went off to join the Army. I was accepted by the Army but their medical examination found me “Permanently Medically Unfit!”. I had never suffered a blow like this before. I was devastated and couldn't believe it. Being rejected twice, I had to go back to accept the Air Force offer of ground staff. I was instructed to report to RNZAF Station Whenuapai with the rank of Aircraftsman First Class ACHGD. I thought this sounded very grand, I didn't know that at that time AC1 was the rank for all those over 20 years and ACHGD meant aircraft hand general duties. Those in this rank performed every general purpose or menial work that the Air Force had to offer. On reporting to Whenuapai I was instructed to see the station warrant officer by the name of Mr Trott. Warrant Officers in the Air Force were the only ones addressed as “Mr”. In my interview with him he asked me what I did in civilian life, I said I was a farmer. I could see that this put him at a bit of a loss because as I guessed there would not be many vacancies in the Air Force for farmers. Then he came up with a bright idea. Have you ever used a telephone, on my answer Yes, he said right, we will make you a telephone operator. This work I carried out on my first 2 or 3 months while I was searching for something more meaningful to do in the war effort. I found that I could apply to be an armourer and to go on an armourer's course. I needed to wait about 2 months before going on this course and in the mean time, I was transferred to the armoury at Whenuapai to work. I was fortunate in that I was learning and working on a lot of machine guns and armoury equipment before going on the course. At this period I found that I could get a long weekend pass from my previous section and the next week get a long weekend pass from my new section. At this time weekend leave was permitted only once a fortnight, but I got both of them for about six weeks. I came back from leave from one weekend to find that I was on charge - I had been drawn for guard duty and I wasn't there - a terrible crime. I found that I was charged with being absent from guard, absent without leave and guilty of conduct to prejudice the good order and discipline of the Royal NZ Air Force. When I appeared to answer the charge the armament officer was most amused because of the racket that I had been able to perform. I was punished by being given one day confined to camp and being recorded as having been admonished. I lost my privilege of having long weekends each week.
Eventually I was sent to the armament school which was then situated at Wigram. I had quite an advantage over others because of my practical experience at Whenuapai. I also studied while a lot of those on the course just had a jolly good time. I passed out of the course equal top and while I was still AC1, I automatically attained the rank of LAC (Leading Air Craftsman) after 3 months. My posting from the course was to RNZAF Station Taieri. I arrived there in winter and it was a winter of dreadful frosts. The frosts lay like snow on the ground. As with all Air Force stations we could only have leave one weekend in two. One incident that I would like to record happened when one Airman found that he could go across the airfield to the back road to Mosgiel at night, and he had a source of booze. He would regularly get on whisky. One night on returning he couldn't make it back to the dormitory, but collapsed at the edge of the flying field. The patrolmen going around in the morning saw this heap of white and had never seen that before so they prodded it with rifles. The lump stirred and our friend blearily got to his feet - he had been all night in the deepest frost of the year. He got to his feet and ambled away, back to the mess for breakfast and so warming were the properties of whisky that he suffered no ill effects, also the thick Air Force great coat helped him.
At Taieri I was engaged chiefly in instructing airman pilots in the armaments their aircraft would carry. Airman pilots were pilots under training and could be distinguished from other air personnel as each has a white facing on his field service cap. It was mostly of machine guns and I had to take parties of them to the range for machine gun practise. Our butts can be seen today if one goes from Dukes Road parallel with the railway to the aero club.
While at Taieri during the weekends whilst on leave, we of the Air Force were always seeking entertainment. We were very pleased to find the availability of the ANA dances put on by a number of good ladies in Dunedin. The ANA (Army, Navy & Airforce) Club was run on very strict lines. The Dunedin ladies were all young women who could only attend if they were members and could only become members by invitation. There I met Frances who was later to become my wife. About a month before we were due to be married I was posted to No.1 stores depot at Te Rapa. There were hundreds of Air Force personnel at Te Rapa, all of them clerical staff or stores wallahs. I was the only armourer and it appears that I was sent there to be a technical adviser regarding armament stores held there. This was the most useless, dead end job I have ever had, I had no meaningful work to do and yet I had the most terrible task to get leave to get leave to get back to Dunedin to be married. I was allowed only one week. On my way through Wellington I was so fed up with the uselessness of my work that I decided to go to Air Department. Air Department was the Holy of Holies in the Air Force. It was situated in Stout street, Wellington, and rigorously guarded. It was absolutely forbidden for any personnel to go there without authority. I went, marched in the door, as if on official business, could see at a glance that the Chief Armament Office for the whole of the RNZAF was on the fourth floor and took the lift. I entered his office and told his receptionist who I was and that I requested to see him. The armament staff officer was one Wing Commander Wix. He made me very welcome which surprised me and did not question my bowling into Air Department. He chatted with me for about half an hour, asked about what I had been doing in the Air Force and what stores were at Te Rapa and was most agreeable. It was he who got his office staff to look up my file and told me that I had come top equal on the armourer's course. I told him that my purpose in seeing him was to seek his assistance in me being posted overseas. In this matter he didn't commit himself. We parted on very friendly terms and I found it no trouble to leave Air Department. Poor Frances did not know until I rang from the South Island that we could be married on the due date (3rd March). We had the most meagre honeymoon of 3 days and I had to leave her in Christchurch while I went back to Te Rapa. When I arrived back at Te Rapa I found that I was promoted to Corporal and posted to Woodbourne. In Woodbourne my work was again instructing airman pilots but they at this stage were more advanced in their flying and I had to instruct in a lot more armament subjects. Despite all my efforts I still could not get a posting overseas. In the end I was sent on a course to Rongotai again passing through Wellington, once again I decided to beard the lion in his den and went back to Air Department. Same procedure as before, but this time there was a different armament staff officer, one Squadron Leader Greenaway. Once again, I had quite a long chat, once again I requested that I be posted overseas, and went on my way. What amazed me was, that on neither visit to Air Department, did the Staff Officer question my being into Air Department, out of bounds except on Official Business. On returning to my station at Woodbourne, I found that I was promoted to Sergeant, and posted to instruct in the armament school which was now situated in RNZAF Station, Levin.
How I wished that I had gone to Air Department earlier because who knows what rank I might have attained since I was promoted each time I went there. The armament school at Levin was out of place and was planned to be shifted to Woodbourne. Levin was a completely drill and discipline station, it seemed to be there solely to impart drill and discipline and spit and polish. The atmosphere was quite foreign to me. Soon after my arrival a huge wing parade was planned. Personnel from other stations converged upon Levin, the top brass from Air Department and Ohakea were there and the big parade ground was planned to be filled. I was instructed that I had to take a flight from the armament school to this wing parade. In vain did I try to get out of it, saying I knew nothing of the procedures - to no avail, on the day in question I marched a flight, one of three from the armament school to this big wing parade. The order was clearly given "At the halt facing left, form flight." I could see the immaculate way in which the preceding flights carried out this manoeuvre. When it came to my turn, I marched my flight up to the proper position. I should have given the order, Halt, Left Turn, Form Flight. They should all have halted, turned left and marched in a cartwheel fashion to neatly join the parade. I had not a clue what to order - I said "Halt", looked around in dismay, they were all standing there behind me. There were several other Flights behind mine forced to mark time as I held up the whole works. In desperation, I said, "do the same as the others have done." They all shambled like Browns' cows to raggedly form a proper position in the parade. This is the way in which I mucked up the whole big wing parade at Levin. They couldn't do anything to discipline me because I had never had any parade ground training, but the Commanding Officer at Levin had a jolly good try. One good result was I was excused from the next wing parade. About a month after arriving at Levin the whole armament school was shifted to Woodbourne. While there I made repeated applications for overseas service but to no avail. I eventually became the head instructor , then suddenly out of the blue I had a posting to the Islands.
We first left Whenuapai in a C47 aircraft and were flown straight to New Caledonia where we stayed overnight. The following morning we were flown to Guadalcanal. Having waited there overnight, I was one of the few going to No. 6 Flying Boat Squadron on Florida Island. When I arrived at the armament section at Halavo Bay I was met by a number of my previous pupils. As I had been a strict instructor, I wondered at my reception, but was surprised to be greeted as a long lost friend. I was in charge of the servicing of all the armament of the Catalina Flying Boat section of our squadron. Our No. 6 squadron had approx 300 personnel. Our aircraft had 2 duties, one was anti sub marine patrol, where frequently all the depth charges would be dropped on Japanese submarines. The other function was what they called Dumbo, where every bit of weight was taken from the aircraft, guns etc, and the aircraft flew the maximum time in the air, about 20 hours and the object was to pick up survivors in life rafts, from torpedoed ships or aircraft which had had to ditch or had been shot down. Our squadron had picked up quite a number. Soon after arriving at Halavo Bay, a fault developed; some of our depth charges were not exploding. It was left entirely to me to find out why. I found that the fuses fitted to these depth charges had a lubricant which became sticky in the humidity and the fuses were not being armed, so the depth charges did not explode. There were not text books there regarding these fuses, but I knew them back to front having instructed in them. Also some of my armourers had been instructed in them by me. I had to have all of the fuses, bought into the armoury to be stripped down and cleaned of the sticky lubricant. The Americans had quite a different system for depth charges used on warships. They used the same as we did on aircraft in the Atlantic but ours was the only squadron using them in the Pacific where humidity was so high. English depth charges were a superior design both aerial and surface models being activated by hydrostatic pressure. I had our stock of fuses brought into the armoury ready to start work on what should have been an easy task. Each fuse contained a massive explosive (would blow up a whole house), suddenly I was aware that I was alone in the armoury - everyone had gone, finding urgent work elsewhere - they didn't trust me, they thought I was going to blow the whole place up! I had to carry out the modifications on all the fuses on my own, but the depth charges worked after that. Our Catalina aircraft were purely flying boats, each aircraft had to have extra temporary wheels fitted and the aircraft dragged out of the water each night - servicing was then done high up on the coral beach. During the day the heat inside the aircraft was intense but the work had to be done. It was a practise to wear light weight khaki underpants as the sole piece of clothing. Some of the work had to be done at night, when the temperature in confined spaces was bearable. It was my job to check everything of armament equipment before an aircraft could go out - that is machine guns, depth charges and their racks. The crew who worked on getting the aircraft in and out of the water were always naked and once when an aircraft came in and was pulled out from the water up onto the coral beach, out stepped a party of American nurses, much to the consternation of the landing party. When the aircraft was in the water it was necessary to be moored until the engines could be started. The engines could not be started until a very big petrol powered engine inside the aircraft was started up, it was called the APU, Auxiliary Power Unit, on no account were the mooring lines to be released unless the APU was going and aircraft engines started. In charge of the landing party was one L A C named Roache - because he stuttered, he had the unkind nick name of Yakka. At one time one of the landing party by mistake released the mooring rope, the aircraft started drifting, the APU had not been started, the engines had not been started, the aircrew in the aircraft had not been alerted, and Yakka Rouche was stuttering You're, You're, You're, and he just could not get it out - at last he got it out "You're adrift" and the aircrew were just able to get the APU started and the aircraft engines started before the aircraft ground onto the coral reef. Being only a thin skinned aluminium hull, if the aircraft had drifted onto the coral reef, the hull would have been ruined, the aircraft would sink and would have to be written off as there were no repair facilities for such a big job on our squadron.
Several days every week when all the aircraft were home, we had time in the late afternoon to go for a swim. The water was always absolutely warm and swimming was a pleasure, of course no bathing costumes were worn. On Halavo Bay the sergeants lived in huts with sergeants, did not mix with corporals or airmen, or with officers. I was one of a bridge 4 who were; "Win" Churchill, "Mac" McKenzie and the fourth was Ed Hillary who was a navigator airgunner on our aircraft. Aircrew had a fortnights leave back in NZ every three months and it always amazed me that Ed Hillary would spend his fortnight climbing in the Southern Alps after being in the heat of the tropics. Most of the sergeants' huts were 4 men ones, but I shared a 2 man with Cliff Mills and we got along very well. I had the use of a bomb truck to go back into the back country where we had a bomb storage area and a pyrotechnic store. I could keep an eye on wild pawpaws and beat the birds to them when I saw the first sign of ripening. These were welcome additions to the diet for Cliff and myself as we could not stomach some of the horrible food dished up from the kitchens. We always used mosquito nets, the need for them was not great as the Americans had a tremendous policy that there was not stagnant water anywhere for the anopheles mosquito to breed. On our base was a contingent of about 200 American Navy men who had their own camp and facilities. They were American SeaBees (construction battalion). They had been forgotten by the United States Navy and for the first six months of my tour with No. 6 squadron they had virtually nothing to do, then all of a sudden they were all shipped out and we saw no more of them. In the sergeant's mess, beer was available in only quart size bottles and we could buy one each evening when stock was available. Price 10c (American) per bottle. We had landing craft available, run by our own marine section for our necessary transport, 3 times while I was on the station I had to go on one of these craft over to Guadalcanal, approx 50 miles to get further supplies of depth charges.
We had an extended lunch hour of 2 hours unless something urgent had to be done, during this time I would usually write to Frances and the temperature being so hot I would often break off to have a luke warm shower to cool off a bit. Our starting time in the morning was 6.30 or 7 a.m. and we worked in the afternoon until everything was done.
Life on Halavo Bay was very busy, every day a working day, heat so intense that one wore an absolute minimum and there was practically no shade. We were under the command of the United States Navy - all our food supplies came through American sources but the good beef sourced from NZ was grabbed by the Americans, we were fobbed off with the mutton which was the only meat we saw. We had to take 2 very large salt tablets with each meal to counter salt loss and subsequent prickly heat. I was on No 6 Flying Boat Squadron at Halavo Bay for almost 12 months, then came VJ day and it was all over. Every piece of equipment which we had, we were required to take out on landing barges and dump in the sea. I saw probably millions of dollars of beautiful equipment dumped because the Americans insisted that it should not be reused. Most of us picked the best tools we could to take home for our own use - quite contrary to regulations. Slowly but surely, our squadron was reduced and our personnel repatriated. In my last fortnight at Halavo Bay I was the only senior NCO left and I was made Station Warrant Officer. We were in the 2nd to last aircraft to leave Halavo bay and so heavy was the equipment in the kit bag of every man that the aircraft went for many miles before it could take off - but at last got into the air and we were flown straight home from there where we landed at Hobsonville. I was given final leave of 1 month, discharged to the Air Force reserve, thus ended my contact with the Air Force after nearly 5 years.