Kirkham and the Armed Forces
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'Kirkham was home to a Royal Airforce Camp from the 1930s to the 1950s and the airmen and their families played a part in the life of the town spending, for example, money in the town's shops. visiting the town's two cinemas and joining local societies. There must also have been cases of local girls marrying airmen and at least one local boy subsequently married a girl from an airforce family'
Local Resident
Local Resident
1916 - Weeton Camp was established as a Medical Training Camp where newly enlisted RAMC officers were taught the medical and non-medical skills they would need to deal with the sorts of injuries which were common at the front. There was also an emphasis on hygiene, with infections often proving fatal. The trainees were taught about the importance of clean water and safe food at the centre.
BBC World War One at Home
BBC World War One at Home
RAF Kirkham: this began to be built by George Wimpey Ltd. The camp opened in May 1940 as a training camp for RAF tradesmen, including the Bomb Disposal corps, and until 1945, it trained 72,768 British and Allied service men and women. In November 1941, it became the main Armament School for the RAF. The camp had ten hangars, and accommodation for airmen and NCOs, as well as its own hospital, church, and a 780-seat cinema (later used by Kirkham Grammar for Speech Day services). Also based at the camp in 1944 were the School of Administrative Trades and Number 22 Air Crew Holding Unit. Between May and December 1945 Kirkham became a demob centre, Number 101 Personnel Dispersal Centre (PDC) being based there, releasing air personnel at the rate of 1,000 per day. Number 10 School of Technical Training was based at the camp from 1950 until the 31st of December 1957, when the camp closed. A little-known fact is that whilst on guard duty, small recruits were not allowed to guard on the “main gate” on the Blackpool New Road, because the RAF did not want passengers on the coaches on route to Blackpool to know that the RAF had little airmen!
The camp hospital was the tuberculosis and penicillin research centre for the Northwest of England.
Soldiers from the 350th Field Battery of the Royal Artillery were billeted in and around Kirkham, and the 600 men used the local slipper baths on Station Road, for sixpence each.
Kirkham’s air raid wardens were led by Eddie Sargeant from 37 Moor Street, and the Home Guard, led by Major T Durkin worked from Church Memorial House. They had an anti-aircraft gun in the Market Square for the duration.
Freckleton had another RAF camp – a mass of tents near Hall Cross, between Lower Lane and Kirkham Road.
This soon became subsumed by RAF Kirkham.
From 1957, the married quarters for officers from RAF Kirkham were opposite Kirkham Windmill. The commanding Group Captain had a large detached house there, senior officers lived in several detached houses, and other officers in groups of semi-detached dwellings. All these houses were demolished in 1994.
The RAF Kirkham football team won the RAF Challenge Cup in 1958.
RAF Kirkham was acquired by the Prison Service in 1959, and in 1962, part of the camp became Kirkham Open Prison.
Nick Moore, blackpoolhistory.co.uk
The camp hospital was the tuberculosis and penicillin research centre for the Northwest of England.
Soldiers from the 350th Field Battery of the Royal Artillery were billeted in and around Kirkham, and the 600 men used the local slipper baths on Station Road, for sixpence each.
Kirkham’s air raid wardens were led by Eddie Sargeant from 37 Moor Street, and the Home Guard, led by Major T Durkin worked from Church Memorial House. They had an anti-aircraft gun in the Market Square for the duration.
Freckleton had another RAF camp – a mass of tents near Hall Cross, between Lower Lane and Kirkham Road.
This soon became subsumed by RAF Kirkham.
From 1957, the married quarters for officers from RAF Kirkham were opposite Kirkham Windmill. The commanding Group Captain had a large detached house there, senior officers lived in several detached houses, and other officers in groups of semi-detached dwellings. All these houses were demolished in 1994.
The RAF Kirkham football team won the RAF Challenge Cup in 1958.
RAF Kirkham was acquired by the Prison Service in 1959, and in 1962, part of the camp became Kirkham Open Prison.
Nick Moore, blackpoolhistory.co.uk
1939 - RAF Kirkham was built by George Wimpey on 220 acres of land bordering the A583 Blackpool to Preston Rd. Work commenced in 1939 and the camp opened in 1940 as a training camp for RAF tradesmen. Up to 1945 it trained 72,000 British and allied service men and women. In November 1941 Kirkham became the main armament training centre for the RAF, with 21 different trades and 86 different courses on equipment and weapons varying from 22 riffles to 75mm guns.
Forces War Records
Forces War Records
Victor Flak's account of being based at Kirkham during 1941
"On 15th May 1941 I set off into the unknown, destination Blackpool, which didn’t sound too bad for a start. Our parents had to see their three sons go off, one after another, and after the Dunkirk disaster, they probably had their misgivings, but only showed optimism for the future.
We recruits had to undergo six weeks “square bashing” at Blackpool, learning to march in step, slow marching, marching with a rifle, presenting arms and learning discipline. The group I was in had a Scottish sergeant, quite fearsome at first, owner of a clipped, powerful tongue — Chin up, chest out, - GET THOSE ARMS UP!! But we soon found that his bark was far worse than his bite.
Being springtime the weather was glorious, no air raids, good nights sleep every night, good company, most of us being about the same age, - and a complete change from the London I had left behind. We were billeted in boarding houses, a few of us in each. Uniforms had been issued, and in common with many others, my issue boots needed getting used to, a bit painful when they caused blisters, but I didn’t know of anyone going sick with them.
Our rank on joining was AC2-Aircaftsman Second Class — rock bottom. The only way was up, but for most of us that was not to be very far.
So I was in, and it wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, there was discipline, but so often, a muttered remark from a comedian among us, would have us in stitches, and there were many such light hearted occasions to counter the apprehension many of us must have experienced.
I wrote home, of course, and long after the war, I found that many of our letters to mum and dad had been kept.
Those six weeks at Blackpool passed pleasantly enough. The weather was fine, local features to explore, like the Tower and the Pier, bathing facilities at the swimming pool, we even had physical exercise at the Blackpool football ground, and the war was almost forgotten for me. Almost forgotten too, was the daily grind to the Rolling Mills in smoky old Brimsdown, to scribble away like Bob Cratchet, with Bing Crosby crooning in my ear, and feet just short of being frost bitten.
During this period, we had to suffer the medical inspection ‘FFI Free from Infection, this necessitated standing in a line, while the M.O. — Medical Officer, inspected each bashful trouser dropped person in turn. Also, we received our jabs (inoculation) against ATT, TAB, and probably several other nasties. I remember seeing several anti jab ERKS at the rear end of our column marching to the M.I. room, peel away and escape, before we reached the depot, and I wondered if they would get away with it, as the inoculations had to be entered in our records.
So having left home in civilian clothes, the day came when I returned home on leave, resplendent (I thought at the time), in my newly acquired uniform, not feeling particularly self conscious, as so many lads like myself were now in uniform. The garden, I noticed, had changed from looking fairly bare when I left, to being ablaze with colour; it surprised me, being horticulturally ignorant, that so much changed could take place in only six weeks.
Part way through this leave period, the letter arrived instructing me to proceed to Kirkham School of Technical Training, for my four months intensive training course on aero engines... So at the end of my leave, armed with my travel warrant and leave form 295, I set off from home, for the train for London.
The feeling of regret at leaving the familiarity of home surroundings, gave way to a feeling of expectancy. Blackpool had been a stepping stone, a halfway house between home and service accommodation. The Blackpool landlady had prepared our daily breakfast, kept us in clean sheets, and made the right noises of sympathy as we recovered after our inoculations; we could hardly expect the same level of treatment at the training centre.
We soon found out. On arrival at Kirkham we were checked in at the guard room, and then directed to tents in a field. There were basic toilet and washing facilities available nearby.
It was now July 1941, fortunately the weather was dry, so far. We had to dress properly in uniform to leave the tented area and report to the main camp for meals in the cookhouse, and for our training in the workshops.
Then came a setback. We were instructed to vacate our present tent, and proceed to one in a field on the other side of a public lane, - this area being without facilities, no water, no toilet. It was forbidden to cross this lane unless properly dressed, so to reduce travelling time, I carried water back with me when returning at night, which I used for drinking, washing, and shaving in the morning.
Luckily this didn’t last for long. Our next move was into hut 35. These huts each housed about twenty of us. There were a couple of “Tortoise” coal burning stoves for heating in there, and washing facilities in a nearby hut. Things were looking up. The course was going well, a lot to absorb, but the instructors made it interesting.
It was not all work. We had a visit from ENSA, (Entertainment National Service Association), the artists arriving in an East Kent coach, another time Joe Loss came, also Leslie Hutchinson (Hutch). I was glad I joined.
There was a cinema in Kirkham village; three of us went there to see The Count of Monte Cristo. This cinema was located over the Co-Op stores. It was a kind of family affair. The girl in the box office, wrote on each ticket and stamped it, an old boy collected half a ticket at the door, and a young chap showed us which seats were reserved, unsafe, etc, and which ones were available to sit on. We enjoyed the film though.
Several times during the course, we had practice ‘gas attacks’. The idea was to get us used to whipping out our gas masks, and pulling a string, which allowed our gas capes to unfurl from the pack on our back, and with our tin hats perched on our heads, we must have presented a gruesome spectacle —it was hot, to, inside all that clobber.
It was October now. Weather much colder. We were getting strong winds and heavy rain. We had been issued with gum boots, which, now got worn frequently, and we needed our greatcoats for getting to the workshops.
The course being nearly finished, we spent a lot of time revising. Anyone passing with sufficient marks would go up a grade, and pay would go up accordingly. It was worth working at revision, and it paid off, as I became AC1 instead of AC2, so more money came my way. So ended my training course at Kirkham. From July to the end of October 1941, we had been bombarded with information, suffered discomfort, enjoyed free entertainment, made many friends. Most of the information we tried to absorb, is with me still, - I have kept my ‘gen’; book from the course, which contains not only detailed technical info, but also, on the last page, about twenty names and addresses of class mates.
Looking through the book now, I notice that phase 8, called “Aerodrome Procedure”, contains information most useful to anyone finding themselves responsible for signals to landing aircraft. I would have studied that section in more depth had I known that for one weekend in 1946, a colleague and I were in just such a responsible position. Luckily nothing happened."
WW2 People's War is an online archive of wartime memories contributed by members of the public and gathered by the BBC. The archive can be found at bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar Victor Flak's War in the RAF
"On 15th May 1941 I set off into the unknown, destination Blackpool, which didn’t sound too bad for a start. Our parents had to see their three sons go off, one after another, and after the Dunkirk disaster, they probably had their misgivings, but only showed optimism for the future.
We recruits had to undergo six weeks “square bashing” at Blackpool, learning to march in step, slow marching, marching with a rifle, presenting arms and learning discipline. The group I was in had a Scottish sergeant, quite fearsome at first, owner of a clipped, powerful tongue — Chin up, chest out, - GET THOSE ARMS UP!! But we soon found that his bark was far worse than his bite.
Being springtime the weather was glorious, no air raids, good nights sleep every night, good company, most of us being about the same age, - and a complete change from the London I had left behind. We were billeted in boarding houses, a few of us in each. Uniforms had been issued, and in common with many others, my issue boots needed getting used to, a bit painful when they caused blisters, but I didn’t know of anyone going sick with them.
Our rank on joining was AC2-Aircaftsman Second Class — rock bottom. The only way was up, but for most of us that was not to be very far.
So I was in, and it wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, there was discipline, but so often, a muttered remark from a comedian among us, would have us in stitches, and there were many such light hearted occasions to counter the apprehension many of us must have experienced.
I wrote home, of course, and long after the war, I found that many of our letters to mum and dad had been kept.
Those six weeks at Blackpool passed pleasantly enough. The weather was fine, local features to explore, like the Tower and the Pier, bathing facilities at the swimming pool, we even had physical exercise at the Blackpool football ground, and the war was almost forgotten for me. Almost forgotten too, was the daily grind to the Rolling Mills in smoky old Brimsdown, to scribble away like Bob Cratchet, with Bing Crosby crooning in my ear, and feet just short of being frost bitten.
During this period, we had to suffer the medical inspection ‘FFI Free from Infection, this necessitated standing in a line, while the M.O. — Medical Officer, inspected each bashful trouser dropped person in turn. Also, we received our jabs (inoculation) against ATT, TAB, and probably several other nasties. I remember seeing several anti jab ERKS at the rear end of our column marching to the M.I. room, peel away and escape, before we reached the depot, and I wondered if they would get away with it, as the inoculations had to be entered in our records.
So having left home in civilian clothes, the day came when I returned home on leave, resplendent (I thought at the time), in my newly acquired uniform, not feeling particularly self conscious, as so many lads like myself were now in uniform. The garden, I noticed, had changed from looking fairly bare when I left, to being ablaze with colour; it surprised me, being horticulturally ignorant, that so much changed could take place in only six weeks.
Part way through this leave period, the letter arrived instructing me to proceed to Kirkham School of Technical Training, for my four months intensive training course on aero engines... So at the end of my leave, armed with my travel warrant and leave form 295, I set off from home, for the train for London.
The feeling of regret at leaving the familiarity of home surroundings, gave way to a feeling of expectancy. Blackpool had been a stepping stone, a halfway house between home and service accommodation. The Blackpool landlady had prepared our daily breakfast, kept us in clean sheets, and made the right noises of sympathy as we recovered after our inoculations; we could hardly expect the same level of treatment at the training centre.
We soon found out. On arrival at Kirkham we were checked in at the guard room, and then directed to tents in a field. There were basic toilet and washing facilities available nearby.
It was now July 1941, fortunately the weather was dry, so far. We had to dress properly in uniform to leave the tented area and report to the main camp for meals in the cookhouse, and for our training in the workshops.
Then came a setback. We were instructed to vacate our present tent, and proceed to one in a field on the other side of a public lane, - this area being without facilities, no water, no toilet. It was forbidden to cross this lane unless properly dressed, so to reduce travelling time, I carried water back with me when returning at night, which I used for drinking, washing, and shaving in the morning.
Luckily this didn’t last for long. Our next move was into hut 35. These huts each housed about twenty of us. There were a couple of “Tortoise” coal burning stoves for heating in there, and washing facilities in a nearby hut. Things were looking up. The course was going well, a lot to absorb, but the instructors made it interesting.
It was not all work. We had a visit from ENSA, (Entertainment National Service Association), the artists arriving in an East Kent coach, another time Joe Loss came, also Leslie Hutchinson (Hutch). I was glad I joined.
There was a cinema in Kirkham village; three of us went there to see The Count of Monte Cristo. This cinema was located over the Co-Op stores. It was a kind of family affair. The girl in the box office, wrote on each ticket and stamped it, an old boy collected half a ticket at the door, and a young chap showed us which seats were reserved, unsafe, etc, and which ones were available to sit on. We enjoyed the film though.
Several times during the course, we had practice ‘gas attacks’. The idea was to get us used to whipping out our gas masks, and pulling a string, which allowed our gas capes to unfurl from the pack on our back, and with our tin hats perched on our heads, we must have presented a gruesome spectacle —it was hot, to, inside all that clobber.
It was October now. Weather much colder. We were getting strong winds and heavy rain. We had been issued with gum boots, which, now got worn frequently, and we needed our greatcoats for getting to the workshops.
The course being nearly finished, we spent a lot of time revising. Anyone passing with sufficient marks would go up a grade, and pay would go up accordingly. It was worth working at revision, and it paid off, as I became AC1 instead of AC2, so more money came my way. So ended my training course at Kirkham. From July to the end of October 1941, we had been bombarded with information, suffered discomfort, enjoyed free entertainment, made many friends. Most of the information we tried to absorb, is with me still, - I have kept my ‘gen’; book from the course, which contains not only detailed technical info, but also, on the last page, about twenty names and addresses of class mates.
Looking through the book now, I notice that phase 8, called “Aerodrome Procedure”, contains information most useful to anyone finding themselves responsible for signals to landing aircraft. I would have studied that section in more depth had I known that for one weekend in 1946, a colleague and I were in just such a responsible position. Luckily nothing happened."
WW2 People's War is an online archive of wartime memories contributed by members of the public and gathered by the BBC. The archive can be found at bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar Victor Flak's War in the RAF
September 2011 - Soldiers from the North West were among the 2nd battalion of The Duke of Lancaster regiment, which formally took control of Weeton Barracks just outside Blackpool.
Lancashire Telegraph
Lancashire Telegraph
