Beneath the Beret of Jack Waterfield Part Three - Pressure and loss
- Andy Barker
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
Weeton, Kirkham, and the Fitters Course: Precision, Pressure, and Loss (1941–1942)
After nine intense weeks at Creden Hill, Jack Waterfield was selected for further training, the Fitters 1 Gun Armourers Course at RAF Weeton, near Blackpool. If Creden Hill had been demanding, Weeton was something else entirely. This was the course that separated the competent from the exceptional, the casual from the committed. It was here that Jack learned the deeper mechanics of the weapons he would service throughout the war and where he first encountered the darker edges of military life.
Arrival at Weeton: A Different World
Weeton was a sprawling technical training station, and Jack
arrived to find a camp in transition. The huts were lit by oil lamps, though electricity was being installed as he settled in. The atmosphere was more serious than Blackpool or Creden Hill — fewer distractions, more expectations, and a sharper sense of purpose.
One of the first things Jack noticed was the presence of WAAF drivers learning to handle large American stake trucks with left-hand drive. Watching them grind gears and wrestle with oversized steering wheels became a kind of entertainment for the men, though Jack always describes it with respect rather than mockery. Everyone was learning something new, and everyone was under pressure.
The Work: Filing, Maths, and Mastery
The Fitters Course was built on precision. Before a man could be trusted with a cannon, a turret, or a machine gun, he had to prove he could master the fundamentals.
Jack remembers the steel blocks — small, square pieces of metal that each trainee had to file by hand until they were perfectly flat, perfectly square, and perfectly true. It was maddening work. Hours of scraping metal, checking angles, re-filing, checking again. The instructors could spot a shortcut instantly.
Then came the mathematics; trigonometry, tolerances, measurements, and calculations that Jack found challenging. He never pretended otherwise. But he pushed through, knowing that the work mattered. A misaligned gun wasn’t an inconvenience; it was a death sentence for a pilot.
Evenings Out: The “Bird and Bastard”
Despite the intensity of training, the men found ways to unwind. The local pub, the Eagle and Child, was universally known as the “Bird and Bastard.” It became a refuge for Jack and his mates, a place to laugh, drink, and forget the pressure for a few hours.
Cinema trips were common too. Jack remembers the Co-op Cinema in Kirkham, where he and others would sit through whatever film was showing, grateful for warmth, light, and a break from the grind.
These small escapes mattered. They were the glue that held men together when the days were long and the nights were cold.
Kirkham: A Sudden, Shocking Loss
Weeton’s sister station, RAF Kirkham, was where Jack
experienced one of the most sobering moments of his early service.
A medic under training, a man Jack didn’t know personally but saw often, was assigned to guard duty with a P14 rifle. At some point during the night, he turned the weapon on himself.
The news spread quickly. Shock rippled through the camp. No one knew why he had done it. No one ever would.
After that, no guard was ever posted alone.
Jack’s writing is understated, but the weight of the moment is unmistakable. It was the first time he saw the psychological strain of service break someone. It would not be the last.
Passing the Course, pressure and loss
Despite the pressure, Jack completed the Fitters Course successfully and earned the title AC2 Fitter Armourer (Guns). It was a significant achievement, and one that would shape the rest of his wartime career.
But almost immediately afterward, he made a mistake — a small one, but one with consequences.
Jack went to the bathhouse at the wrong time.
He hadn’t read the Orders. He didn’t know the facility was out of bounds. But the Service Police didn’t care. They arrested him on the spot.
Jack was sentenced to 14 days Confined to Barracks (CB), a punishment that meant no leave, no evenings out, and constant supervision. Worse still, his upcoming leave was cut to eight days.
He didn’t know it then, but those eight days would be his last leave until 1945.
The RAF could be forgiving. It could also be merciless.
A Turning Point
Weeton and Kirkham marked a turning point in Jack’s service. He had moved beyond basic training and into the technical heart of the RAF. He had learned precision, discipline, and responsibility. He had seen the cost of pressure on men who were barely more than boys. And he had felt the sting of military justice. Swift, impersonal, and absolute.
His next posting would take him far from the training grounds of England. He was about to join 611 Squadron at Drem, where winter, tragedy, and a critical technical challenge would test him in ways he could never have imagined.
Next. Jack arrives at Drem in Scotland, joins 611 Squadron, faces brutal winter conditions, witnesses fatal crashes, and solves a cannon alignment problem that senior armourers couldn’t crack.
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