The AFS was housed behind "The Cock" public house in a converted brick garage which contained a Coventry Climax grey trailer pump, the city of Coventry's response to the terror bombing of their homes and cathedral. I had yet to see a fireman, but this was about to change.
Walking past the yard gate of the public house, I espied a splendid apparition in the form of the well-built, if somewhat slight, figure of a man.
Black polished shoes (not boots) peeped out from a navy blue trouser, displaying a thin red line down both sides and a razor-sharp crease in front and back. This was surmounted by a navy blue Horse Guards-type tunic, buttoned up to the neck, with two rows of silver buttons displayed in double-breasted style from shoulders to belt. A large black three inch wide belt ran round the midriff, supporting a smart hand axe and a rope lanyard. The big silver buckle was held up dead square by four buttons at the front and two at the back. Topping all this was a peaked cap with red piping.
The wearer had bent the wire frame to resemble Field Marshall von Runstedt, the German C-in-C in France.
As I passed this Errol Flynn type, he gave me a languid wave, the sort of wave an active member of a civilian defence force would give a mere civilian. Closer inspection revealed to me the features of Bert Moore, a school mate of mine.
At that time, we were both showing an interest in a certain young lady from the top of Angel Lane. Bert had a brother and two or three sisters. This had advanced him in maturity somewhat more than me, an only child, and he appeared to be favourite for her affections.
The uniform he now wore had well and truly advanced him in that direction, or so I assumed. I considered making a cutting remark in my frustration, such as "When do the show start?", or hurling myself across the road in a vicious frontal attack.
My record in the eyes of the local constable was somewhat blemished however, and an unprovoked attack on the King's uniform would be frowned upon, particularly so when the person concerned was on official duty. I also recalled that Bert, a quite religious individual, carried a very nasty left jab. This was from the days of the old Church Club, when we had boxed each other under the eyes of the Rev. Harper, no mean performer himself. I resisted the impulse and passed by.
It came to me some time later that our ages were but a few weeks apart, I being the older. If you can't beat them, join them. Bert was still there, complete with some of the local talent, including the young lady in n question. Marching straight up to them, I blurted out:
"Are you in the Fire Service?".
On reflection, this was not the most sensible of questions, considering the silver and blue uniform displaying the letters "AFS" in red on the breast, plus the silver and red on the badge.
Bert sprang to attention, gave the Hitler salute, and replied in the comic German of ITMA:
"Nein, nein, mein fuhrer. Field Marshall von Crappersitter, 21st Panzers, at your service."
To my great embarrassment, and roars of laughter from the female audience, I ignored this and pressed on with:
"How do I join the AFS?".
"Report to the Station Officer, " says Bert.
I made for the station and approached the first person in sight.
Judging from Fireman Moore's apparel, I expected the Station Officer to be wearing a tricorn hat and a sword, at least. Here I was brought down to earth, for he turned out to be none other than the local delivery driver, a man I knew well. He was a sort of untidy edition of Bert, with an extra small red bar on his shoulder.
"Yes, boy, we could do with a few more blokes so that we can make up four units of four: three nights off, and one on from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m.. You have to be fit enough to run out a hose, climb a ladder and lift an average man on your shoulders. Plus, be of good character."Dr Richie felt my pulse, sounded my chest, looked me up and down and commenced to fill in a card. Somewhat apprehensively, I asked
"Will I do?".
"Never brought a cad in yet, laddie" he replied,
a reference to his attending my entry to this mortal coil.
Station Officer Percy Sparkes filled in more details, added Dr Richie's report, and told me my uniform would be available in about ten day's time. I was in.