When my turn came to be called up, I registered as a conscientious objector
I had to make a big decision -- war came along and I still felt the same as before -- Pacifism, and when my turn came to be called up, I registered as a conscientious objector. I went through hell, most of my friends turned against me and at work my workmates shunned me.
Eventually I had to appear in court in front of three learned judges. They tore me to pieces but I won my case and was officially registered as a conscientious objector, providing I took up work for the Forestry Commission. I because a lumberjack, living in a big house with twenty-five other men who had the same belief. Apart from our work, we each had jobs to do in the house and in the evening we gathered in a big lounge where we took turns in speaking of our beliefs. There were large differences in views on politics and religion. I was the only atheist in the group. I lived in the group for about six months.
News began to come through regarding the concentration camps and the gassing of thousands of people. I realised I was wrong and I felt that I had to join the Forces. I decided to join the RAF and within a few weeks I received a letter to join. About the same time, I received a letter from my girlfriend telling me her father had told her to finish with me as it was bad for his business. It was a bit of a shock but I soon got over it.
Life in the RAF
I had to report to an RAF station at Padgate where I was kitted out with uniform. After a few days, I, along with another 150, were moved to Redcar where we began our basic training., We were then moved to Coleraine in Northern Ireland. Meanwhile, I chummed up with a youth in the same squad who seemed to have the same likes and dislikes as me. That friendship lasted for three years, sometimes just him and me being moved to another camp, Strangely, he had the same surname as me. We both decided we would like to train to become physical training instructors, although I differed from him in the fact that I also wanted to train in the hospital. I decided, if possible, to forget the idea of being a pacifist and throw myself completely into the RAF. [...] After a few months, I passed my course and became a Physical Training Instructor (Corporal) and began to be selected from the Technical Training team (throughout England).
At one of the RAF stations, I met the young lady who was to become my wife, although not without some heartache. We were obviously both attracted to each other and we went on dates very often. She had told me that she had another boyfriend (an office navigator). [...] She was a very beautiful half-Italiian girl. I thought the feeling was mutual and had every reason to feel that way. This went on for seven or eight months, and then she went on leave for ten days. Imagine my feelings when she returned and told me she had spent some days of her leave with her other boyfriend and had got engaged -- it really shook me. For a few weeks we still went on walks together but not in the same manner. Fortunately, after six weeks I was moved to another camp and naturally thought that was the last I would see of her. About four months went by and I received a letter inviting me to her wedding. I wrote back and declined but wished her all the best. That was that, so I thought. Months later, I received another letter from her -- apparently, her friend had made her write to me, saying if she didn’t then she would. Her fiancé had been shot down and killed over Germany before they could get married. I decided I would like to see her and wrote back suggesting a meeting place, if she so desired. We met, and so began a courtship that lasted about a year -- meeting where and when we could, until I asked her to marry me, to which she consented.
By now, in the RAF, I had taken the medical course on nursing and having been successful I had been transferred to a hospital. Meanwhile, my parents were financially better off -- my dad had been in work all the time because of the war.
Of course, food wasn’t very easy to come by and only rations as most people were having. I did manage to help out occasionally as I had become friendly with a farmer, and when I went on leave the farmer was very generous. I suppose I must have been like Father Christmas to my family.
Shared by Lewis and Evan Formston-Jones, his great-grandsons
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