"Y" Depot, Halifax, Nova Scotia

I was not impressed with Nova Scotia's capital. It was dreary, shabby and 40. How different when we visited this attractive old city in the mid-70s, when our daughter Barbara and family lived there. One thing in favor of wartime Halifax was the magnificent harbor and port facilities. The fog lifted a couple of times and we could see scores of ships of all types in spacious Bedford Basin. It was a sight to behold and made us realize that the convoys leaving every few days were well protected.

The first order of business for us was a medical checkup. We got the usual going over with a new twist. All aircrew in the overseas draft were tested in groups of 20 in a decompression chamber. We passed through an airlock and were seated on benches in an airtight capsule. We were then given a pad and pencil and asked to do a simple math problem, write down our name or whatever. Everything was perfectly normal of course. Then the technician operating the controls gradually reduced the oxygen content in the chamber. Very soon a few of our number started scrawling meaningless stuff on the, some were giggling and one or two slumped over. I have no idea when I became unconscious because the loss of oxygen creeps up on you and you think you're feeling great. All I remember is a technician holding an oxygen mask to my face and asking me if I was okay. He had brought me around and I could see some of the goofy writing that I scribbled before I went under. The whole purpose of the exercise was to demonstrate how insidious the lack of auction can be, and to show that an oxygen supply is a matter of life and death. We were all convinced and overseas we always donned oxygen mask when we reached an altitude of 10,000 feet.

There was a morning parade and roll call at "Y" Depot and a few administrative matters to attend to, otherwise it which free time. We were warned that tight security was the order of the day where overseas drafts were concerned and in no way were we to blab in public that we would be heading for Britain any day now. It came as quite a shock one afternoon when we were downtown and heard a military band belting out a regimental March. Down the hill payment infantry Regiment in full battle gear looking very smart. As company after company passed, we wondered where they were going. It wasn't a mystery for long - they were heading straight for the docs to board ship. I've forgotten the name of the original but I'm sure the Germans knew about that same evening. So much for security but the parade may have been planned that way to boost Morell on the homefront.

On the fourth day in Halifax 50 air observers were called out and informed that we would not be going overseas after all. Instead were being posted to Royal Air Force Ferry Command at Dorval near Montréal, to navigate American lend-lease aircraft to Britain. Jim Dobie and I were in the group plus many others who had trained at Rivers when I was there. This was great news. While we waited to get overseas, this new opportunity sounded exciting.