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# 3 Intitial Training School - Victoriaville, Quebec

We found ourselves quartered in a Catholic seminary in this eastern Township town about 100 miles southeast of Montréal. We were put to work immediately and found ourselves embarking on eight weeks of concentrated classroom training with drill on the parade square, route marchs, pistol practice, and gas mask training thrown in. I remember pistol shooting as one of my lesser achievements. It looked so easy but I found that the 38 caliber revolver jumped in my hand as I fired and my first few slugs hit the ceiling of the shed that served as an indoor range. Later I learned to allow for the explosive force and did somewhat better. In our course there were 120 potential aircrew divided into two flights. There were three other courses ahead of us spaced at two-week intervals so it was a busy place. Our entire Scoudouc bunch was there and also several others from Valcartier who had been doing their guard duty elsewhere. Bob Beckett of Valois, Québec was one such person and it was great to see him again.

The selection process at I.T.S. would determine whether the trainees were best suited for pilot training or observer (navigation) training. From the outset I had stated my preference to be an Air Observer, however, we were all given the same tests and evaluation at Victoriaville. We looked forward with eagerness and some and apprehension to the sessions in the link trainer to test our reflexes and coordination. The link was a miniature aircraft mounted on a three-foot pedestal. There was a joystick, rudder pedals, compass and a turn and bank indicator and with the proper combination of controls it was possible to simulate an aircraft in flight. The lessons and tests by the instructor became progressively more difficult but I managed well enough that I was passed for pilot training. I still preferred to go the navigation route although in hindsight I sometimes wish that I had opted to be a chauffeur or truck driver as multi- engine pilots were called. I don't think I would've had the temperament to be a fighter pilot and perhaps not the capability either.

A date that stands out in my memory is December 8, 1941- the day after Pearl Harbour. All eight training flights, about 480 potential aircrew in all, were lined up on the Victoriaville parade square. The Commanding Officer, a World War I pilot brought the group to attention and explained the reason for the special parade was to deal with the fallout of the Pearl Harbor attack. Now that the U.S. Was at war there would be a natural inclination that many of the American trainees would want to head south and fight under their own flag so to speak. The C.O. made it clear that neither the U.S. Nor the Canadian authorities wanted this to happen. He said that there would be later opportunities to transfer but for now the best way to serve their country was to complete their training in Canada.

 

Every American that I knew accepted this as good sense and as my friend Bob Pearson said, "It's the same war". Many of the Americans eventually transferred to U.S. Forces but Bob Pearson was not one of them - in fact he flew two tours of operations in a RCAF uniform. The CO dismissed the parade by announcing that the Americans could proceed to the chapel to hear Pres. Roosevelt address the nation. Soon the parade ground was literally half deserted - there were that many Americans in Canada at that stage the war.

I should have mentioned that at this point we were AC 2s (Aircraftman Second Class), the lowest form of Air Force humanity. Our one claim to fame was that at I.T.S. we wore a white flash in our caps. It was quite prominent and told the world that we were aircrew trainees - a proud distinction. What we didn't know was that the Army types and ground crew around Victoriaville spread the word that the white flash denoted the that the wearer had a social disease. This supposedly would reduce the competition from the future fly- boys at dances and parties around town. In actual fact the townspeople, including the girls, were civil enough but had very little to do with the Air Force.

The time came for exams and it was just like high school all over again. I passed. As did all my friends. Some of the American guys had never studied algebra or trigonometry before but thet knuckled down - in fact we all studied most evenings. In retrospect I'm surprised that every trainee was so keen, but of course they had their sights set on getting to flying school and graduating from I.T.S.Port Hope arriving around 6 AM. I took a taxi out to the farm and walked through the fields to our house - the sideroad was blocked with snowdrifts. I hadn't been home since August and wondered if Tip, the family dog, would know me. I think he did but with Tip one couldn't be sure because he usually showed his teeth by way of greeting. To us it was a sort of smile - to others it was a snarl.

It was a happy Christmas. Mother had everything nicely arranged as usual. Our farmhouse wasn't fancy but it was always homey especially in winter. The big wood stove in the kitchen with the couch behind was a great spot, even on the coldest days and being Christmas, Dad had the furnace going too. Naturally it was good to see my folks. Uncle Bill and Aunt Bertha (Austin) and Aunt Bert and Uncle Cecil White and family were there too rounding out our usual family Christmas group. The five days passed all too quickly but I was ready to head back to Victoriaville, to see my Air Force friends and looking forward to the exiciting days ahead.

On returning to Victoriaville we found that on graduation our rank was now Leading Aircraftman or LAC for short. To tell the wqhole world of our lofty status, we would henceforth wear a small cloth patch in the form of a propellor on the upper sleeves of our tunic. Best of all we received a pay hike to $2.25 per day which included danger money for flying. I had no idea that I would ever earn that much, and immediately assigned more money home which mother banked for me throughout the war.

Our next interest was flying school. Some eager beaver spotted the lists being posted and everybody made a beeline for the bulletin board to find out what our next stop would be. There were seven postings to #8 Air Observers school (AOS) at Ancienne Lorette and my name was one of them. Most of my friends from guard duty were heading out to elementary flying school for pilot training and many of them drew Stanley, Nova Scotia. Others were posted to Cap de Madelaine, near Three Rivers. To them it didn't matter, they just wanted to learn to fly. And so in early January 1942, I said farewell to Bob Pearson, Bob Beckett, Ed Vincent, Roger Vanderbeck, Jack Sipple, Pete Prince and several other great guys as they left for flying school.

The date was January 3, 1942 and a relatively mild day as we departed Victoriaville. I wouldn't see the old red brick seminary again until April 1980 when Enid (my wife) and I made a detour on our way to visit Québec city. By pure chance we had chosen the very week that the buildings were being demolished to make way for a housing development. The wrecking ball was at work but the main structure will still standing, and as I snapped a few pictures, it brought back a lot of memories.

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