Mike Millichamp, pictured
here in 1960 when he had just turned 17, recalls his time in the CCF at Lord Wandsworth College.
In the autumn term of 1958 I joined the Basic Army Section of the Combined Cadet Force with the prospect of being
trained in drill, miniature rifle range shooting, fieldcraft and various other military activities. As an 11-year-old
new boy I had willingly volunteered to join the school scout troop. Now at the age of 15 I was being pressganged
into the school cadet corps, no ifs or buts about it. I was a typical teenager with 'attitude' and did not take
kindly to being shouted at by the NCOs - older boys who happened to have stripes on their sleeves. On the other
hand I thought I looked good in my uniform and was happy to swagger about in it - another thing that riled the
NCOs.
The school boasted a well stocked quartemaster's stores so we were able to obtain uniforms that fitted reasonably
well. It was the same khaki battledress as worn by British regular soldiers at that time: a waist-length blouse,
matching trousers in the same prickly serge, khaki flannel shirt and army tie, a navy blue beret with a Royal Engineers
cap badge, webbing belt and gaiters and hobnailed 'ammunition' boots.
We engaged in CCF training every Friday of the year, regardless of the weather, from 3.15pm to 4.45pm. To me the
CCF was a matter of indifference and I had no desire to become a soldier. I found the coarse woollen shirt and
trousers extremely itchy and as we had to get into cadet uniform first thing on Friday morning, wearing it to lessons
during the day, it could be quite a job to stay comfortable. I tried wearing my pyjamas under the battledress to
alleviate the itchiness, but this wasn't really a satisfactory arrangement, especially since I had to change during
the day for gym.
On a Thursday night we would spend ages polishing our badges and buckles with 'Brasso' (we did not have the modern
luxury of 'staybright' cap badges), applying dull green 'blanco' to our webbing belts and gaiters; spit and polishing
our boots, and pressing sharp creases into the heavyweight serge trousers. Boys waited patiently to take their
turn with the single iron at our disposal. Some cadets were so conscientious (or neurotic?) that they would lie
in bed after lights out polishing away at their brasses
Come Friday, our kit was expected to stay clean and uncreased until the afternoon parade and sometimes during lessons,
when interest in the subject being taught waned, we would divert ourselves by breathing on our brasses and boots
and enhancing the shine with a handkerchief. CCF activities commenced directly after lessons, with map reading,
marching, drill (sometimes with a cumbersome Lee Enfield .303 rifle), fieldcraft theory, rifle target practice,
and watching morale boosting army propaganda films.
Meek masters who taught Latin were turned into fearsome officers wearing army uniforms with the minimum rank of
2nd Lieutenant, which entitled them to an officer's peaked cap. Masters who had seen war service or completed national
service and had retained their own uniforms usually wore them. I can recall our Geography teacher dressed in the
splendid black dress uniform of the Devonshire Regiment.
I passed my Basic in 1959 and my Proficiency Test in 1960 thus obtaining the Certificate A, Part 1, which I assumed
would give me a commission in the event of World War 3 - how naive I was. I still have my cadet record service
book and cadet proficiency certificate as I await the call to arms, although I was not a class shot. We had a rifle
range in a deep chalk pit and used it for regular practice, but the art of hitting the bull's eye was always one
that eluded me. The rifles and ammunition were kept in a locked wooden shed with bars on the windows and no doubt
the IRA had no idea they were there.
In accordance with War Office policy (we still had a War Office then) the CCF had to be inspected each June by
a high ranking regular officer to ensure that we were up to scratch. There was also a second full scale inspection
on Founder's Day when a display was put on for visiting parents and dignitaries and the Band of the Royal Engineers,
Aldershot, played on the school lawns. Normally another high ranking officer would review the cadets but if none
could be found or willing, a titled or other important person would suffice. The best Army Section cadet of the
year was awarded the Subaltern's Bugle, the best RAF section cadet received the Air Training Corps Trophy and there
was also a cup awarded to the outstanding boy scout in the school troop.
Founder's Day inspection 1961. The inspecting officer is Colonel W G S Mills of the Parachute Regiment
Those members of the CCF who were much keener than me went on the annual army or RAF camp which lasted a week
at the end of July after school had broken up. Sometimes cadets even travelled to a camp abroad. If the annual
camps were anything like the field days or night exercises which took place on the College estate or at the army
firing ranges outside Fleet then I was glad I did not go.
Those boys who genuinely enjoyed the CCF usually got the most out of it. They could become an NCO or take part
in the nationwide CCF shooting and sports competitions. Really keen cadets became members of the CCF Drill Squad
, dressing in a gleaming white belt and gaiters and putting on displays of precision drill for visitors.
In the RAF section enthusiastic boys could win their 'wings' for piloting the school glider. This remarkable piece
of equipment was reassembled on the sports field annually and attached to an enormous elastic catapult. A vast
number of cadets would take the strain of the catapult and walk in opposite directions in a V formation until sufficient
tension was reached for take off. The brake was released and the glider would skim a few inches off the ground
and if the pilot was sufficiently quick witted enough to release the tow rope as well, he could fly a few yards
at anything up to two feet off the ground.
In the early days cadets travelled beyond the boundaries of the estate in the two school lorries - a 1940s Bedford
and a similar vintage Dodge. Form benches were placed in the rear as seats, with the canvas top rolled back but
still available for rainy weather. Later on the headmaster authorised the extravagant luxury of a locally hired
coach. On one memorable occasion we all travelled by coach to the CCF preview of the Royal Tournament at Earls
Court in London, and boy! did I feel proud wearing my immaculate khaki uniform.
Despite being an unenthusiastic recruit I now look back on my CCF experiences with fond nostalgia. Reluctantly
I have to admit that there were some great times - even the field days. I can still march and perform a perfect
'Halt' with the count of 'Halt - check - one - two,' starting with the left foot. I can still present arms using
a broom as a stand-in rifle and salute smartly to my own reflection in a mirror; but then can't all of us ex-CCF
men still do all that in our sleep?
Read Mike Millichamp's memoir of his time in the school scout troop HERE
NEXT: CCF Gallery