"My first day on the Island: In 1956 all young men's lives were
affected in some way by 'National Service'. I opted to serve for three
years in the RAF and at Locking, near Weston-super-Mare I received
training to become a Radar Fitter. By the happiest of chances, on
passing out in June 1957 I was posted to the 'Early Warning' radar
station at Ventnor and thus my life was changed irrevocably.
The aged asthmatic paddle steamer and clanking locomotive which
conveyed me to and across the Island were novelties to me, as was the
diminutive RAF camp at Lowtherville. This domestic site was set in one
side of a green valley at the side of the Wroxall road. I reported my
arrival at the Guardroom and they directed me to my 'billet'. I found
that the neat brick hut located at the far boundary accommodated about
a dozen beds and these were distributed within three rooms: luxury
indeed compared with the RAF standard of 22 beds in one large hut.
During my short walk I had passed the tiny 'cookhouse' which catering
for no more than one hundred mouths, should surely provide decent
properly cooked meals. On that sunny afternoon I realised that RAF
life might offer more than gratuitous discipline and the assorted
privations of my previous experience.
A chattering group of lads returned to the hut from their afternoon
shift at the 'Top-site' located on the summit of St. Boniface. I
received a friendly welcome and was invited to a demob party being
held for the man I was replacing so later we ambled down the shute and
the steep road to the Prince of Wales. The party went well, but
feeling a stranger, I left them and explored the sea front, eventually
climbing back to the camp and an early bed. Around midnight I was
wakened by a hubbub and found a Service Policeman quizzing my
inebriated new friends.
The County Press records the 'disgraceful behaviour' observed and
reported to the police by a worthy burgher. It seems a water battle
ensued on the boating lake and an attempt was made to move a
mechanical excavator parked on the beach. However, the routes back up
to Lowtherville are several and various so the combined civil and RAF
police (about four in number) apprehended very few of the revellers.
The unlucky blokes up before the CO in the morning received only mild
punishments, but I thanked my lucky stars that I was not amongst them:
what a start that would have been at my new camp!
I remained at RAF Ventnor for six idyllic months until Christmas
when I was posted away to an icy Yorkshire. During my stay I came to
love the Island and also met my future wife. After spending my working
life on the mainland we have now at last been able to settle here. I
would be happy to exchange Email with anybody who also remembers the
RAF at Ventnor and if requested would provide more anecdotes of life
both domestic and technical, from my time there.