40s and 50s Memories
5
R. AUBREY-COUND
Meynell 1949
Rupert Aubrey-Cound left King's at Easter in
1949 after a ten year stint which began in the
Junior School.
Of his life after King's he writes:
In May 1949 I began National Service in the
Royal Artillery (Royal Horse Artillery) at Larkhill
in Wilts, and this led to an OCS at Mons under
the archetypal Regimental Sergeant Major
Brittain, who was famous for his formidable
voice. Following this came a 15 month spell
at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst
remembered in a whirl of drill Sergeants,
military music and the Open Day Ball, where,
in our 1815 uniforms as the Old Quarter Guard
for Her Royal Highness Princess Elizabeth,
we marched to the strains of the Twelfth Street
Rag.
Then it was from the sublime to grey reality for
the next two and three-quarter years, in aptlynamed Gravesend,
stationed with the 75th HAA
Regiment Royal Artillery, the key relief being the
ten-bob return to Charing Cross, thank God! I
took part in the route-lining at Windsor for the
funeral for King George VI, with my party which
consisted of four reserves, a medical orderly
and a sergeant who had mislaid his rifle.
About this time, I found myself flying in the back
seat of a Meteor NF14 and this conjured up
thoughts of joining the RAF. We had a gunnery
practice camp on the north Norfolk coast and
three Meteors passed before the guns when
firing was in progress. The Colonel shouted
"You bloody fool! You've shot him down!" We
hadn't, (no hits, and anyway it wasn't me). I
pondered further on joining the RAF.
By now it was the winter of 1954. I remember
having great fun on a Civil Defence Rescue
Course and I learned a great deal about knots
and lashings, and also tunnelling. I left that
course fully qualified to become a POW in
Germany.
In May the following year, I was with the 40th
Field Regiment in Cyprus, I spent Christmas
in a military hospital. I learned more of the
eternal verities when the RC Padre appeared with a bottle opener, saying "My dear boy, not
understanding the Trinity is a mere trifle beside
not being able to open a bottle on Christmas
Day!" Later, up a mountain we were looking
for hidden explosives, someone came up with
"Aha! What's this? NO! Run for your lives! It's
bees!"
Definitely decided on the RAF.
Resigned.
In the winter of 1955/56, as a washer-up in a
London coffee bar, I met a cheerful ex- soldier
from Gravesend days, who paid me the
handsome compliment: "I reckon you was the
most tear-arse officer in that regiment, Sir!"
In February 1957, I entered the RAF, to a
memorable service greeting from the SP in the
guardroom at this key moment in my career:
"You've stepped on my paint!"
Flying training took place in Canada in 1957/
58 and then it was back to Coastal Command
in the UK, before the more exciting posting to
Bahrain came up, which lasted till 1962. Arabic
classes were free ("Behold! If your intentions
are good you will not be harmed, even if the
donkey farts!")
In 1962 I married, and in 1963, with my wife and
daughter I was posted to Singapore, and then
Malaya and Borneo. Squadron sages told me
"You will eventually return to the UK with either
a camphor-wood chest or a new baby." So I
bought the chest, but the soothsayers proved
useless. I returned to the UK with wife, chest
and another daughter.
For four years from 1965 - 1969 I was a staff
pilot at RAF College, Cranwell, conducting
navigating cadets here and there. Returning
from the French Air Academy while the World
Cup was on, I called Paris for onward clearance:
"Golf Alfa so and so request etc. etc…" Paris
(joyfully) "Golf Alfa so and so: your team beat
Brazzeell two by one!"
This ended my RAF engagement. Then, I
moved to the Abu Dhabi Defence Force Air
Wing, and Arabic proved useful and the ancient
proverb correct.
Four years later, in 1973 I entered the world of