Six Sacks of Potatoes

In August we received our posting to I.T.S. (Initial Training School) at Victoriaville in Quebec. This was where our real Air-Force training was to begin. The R.C.A.F. had taken over one of the girls colleges which had lovely grounds as well as being a beautiful building inside. The only thing I didn't like was our barracks, as there was 200 to a room, which didn't leave us much space to study let alone have a quiet nap.

We spent our days studying such subjects as navigation, aircraft recognition, aero engine mechanics, air-frames, physics, etc. We also spent a good deal of time on the parade square where the discipline was really strict. If you showed up with wrinkly pants, unpolished shoes or buttons which were not shined you could end up with a couple of days K-P duty which translates into peeling potatoes or washing kitchen floors.

We did have our weekends free and on several occasions we were asked out for a good home-cooked meal in one of the pretty villages in the Eastern Townships of Quebec near the Vermont border. In general we found the French Canadians in the rural communities very hospitable and we had some great times at family picnics and church dinners.

At I.T.S. we had our first experience with the Link Trainer. It was the replica of a small aircraft somewhat like you would see in the midway at the Exhibition, except that it was totally enclosed. It had the normal flying instruments, artificial horizon, needle and ball, airspeed indicator, altimeter and therefore when the instructor turned the trainer on from the outside all the sensations of actual flying could be experienced without leaving the ground. The main purpose of the Link was to aid in the categorizing of aircrew between pilots, navigators and air-gunners. The first time I was in the Link, I remember that I spun into the ground from about 5,000 feet. I thought my flying days were over before they had even started, but after a few more lessons I began to get the hang of it.

One weekend my friend D'Arcy and I took a trip down to the town of Cookshire which is near Sherbrooke. He wanted to look up some friends from his old home town. We had a swell time and we even got to sleep in a good bed (with private bath). The local bank manager was our host and his hobby was pets as he kept a dog, two cats, a flock of chickens as well as two cows for company. I milked one of the cows after supper Saturday evening and managed to get two-thirds of a pail out of the two of them, but had a little trouble as a couple of the faucets kept running dry. Our host's pretty daughter and her girlfriend took us down to the local barn dance which specialized in the music of 1890.