So, Officer selection at Biggin Hill, so much more than I’d even dreamed I could achieve and some faint glimmerings of parental pride, perhaps my life hadn’t turned into quite the pile of crap that I’d believed. Thankfully I had a friend in the RAF and was forewarned about how this worked, the important thing to remember was that they were watching everything that the candidates did.
Arrival was mid afternoon and after temporary warrant cards had been issued we were treated to a long introductory talk and a film on how wonderful life in the RAF would be, then it was tea, biscuits and mingling. Even the mingling was being observed to see how each of us worked on a social level which thankfully wasn’t something I had any problems with, for all my being a seriously messed up kid I was naturally gregarious. Then we took our bags to our rooms, no barracks for would be officers!
Dinner was Officers Mess style in formal dress, no big deal and then the biggest trap of all was set, an open bar. Thank all gods that I’d been warned, I stayed on beer and had enough to be sociable but not incoherent, a win for me two lads got totally shit-faced and weren’t at breakfast the next morning they’d been sent home having fallen at the first fence as it were.
The whole first day went well, teamwork and leadership exercises followed by aptitude tests and then another formal dinner followed by an evening in the bar. Then day two and yet another extensive medical, this time there were no female staff whose blushes needed sparing so my suspicions from the previous time were confirmed. It really is weird how lads who were quite cheerfully showering together less than a year before were now frantically trying to cover themselves with their hands while studiously not comparing their dicks with the other guys. My only concern was getting a completely understandable hard-on and getting kicked off the base in five seconds flat but I’d been practicing that discipline since second form and it stayed obediently down. The medical itself was no worse than the other one but once we were dressed again we were sat down to await the call to a psychological assessment.
That was a very unnerving experience, there were three doctors at a table and me on a chair in front of them, like an interrogation. The room’s lighting was arranged so that they were partly shadowed and I was practically spot lit. Two of them fired questions while the other one just made notes, very disturbing indeed. We covered the overdose incident and I was actually quite proud of myself when I described it as “a bad attack of delayed adolescence”, even got a smile out of one of them. All to no avail though, I was dismissed from the station that afternoon and made my rather sorry way home.
It turns out that the one who never spoke was looking for signs that were believed to suggest homosexuality and apparently I showed them all. Tiny gestures, mannerisms and even the way I held a cigarette had all added up to QUEER. Needless to say that intelligence didn’t make it to Dad, I satisfied his curiosity by blaming the overdose. He was disappointed but not too surprised and managed to stay just a tiny bit proud of me for trying.
Love
Do you think that the fellow who watched and labeled you as queer, was one himself? But, at least you came out of this with some pride for having done a good job, and making it almost all the way thru to the end. And you have a great story to tell, and can there ever be enough of those?
Do you know I wondered about that myself “takes one to know one” sort of thing. Yes one of the good stories and quite a bit of pride for me
I think the sad thing is now it would not have mattered about your sexuality. You would have been an officer. That gets me bent up sometimes. See when I got out of high school, my paternal grandfather ( who never knew but suspected and he tried his best to shelter me, had wealth) called a family meeting. Dysfunctional as we were no one would have refused him. They talked about what was to become of me. Finally I was brought in, and asked. There was a good nursing program in the next town, and while I couldn’t stay home I said I wanted to be a nurse. My face fell as the one who had always stood for me got angry, looked right at me and asked “What is wrong with you boy, no grandson of mine will be a nurse.” ” You want to be a doctor I will support you all the way, but no boy in my family will be a nurse”. I ran from the room crying. Needless to say a few days later I was enlisted in the Navy. Grandfather couldn’t over come the idea that only girls were nurses. I was left with a huge emotional hole as I realized he couldn’t accept the real me if he had known. My protector, would he have protected me if he knew I was gay. Before she died my gram knew and she thought being a male nurse was great. 29 years later I am finally going for the thing I wanted then. Crying as I write this.
I am glad your step dad did stay some proud of you. That you made it all that far was a great achievement, and one even you did not think you would make. A belated congratulations to you for getting as far as you did and keeping your wits about you during the testing.
Warmest thoughts,
Scottie
I hope they’re at least partly happy tears for the fact that you’ve achieved the very thing you wanted. What is this crap about No boy in my family is going to be… One of the best nurses I ever knew was a male nurse, my former flat mate in London and totally straight I mean totally, but without an ounce of prejudice in him. Last I knew he was a chief nursing officer – Matron in other words, so frankly up theirs!
I was actually pretty pleased with my efforts, and to be honest I do think the overdose nonsense was mostly a bad attack of delayed adolescence, on top of all the other crap in my life I didn’t hit pubery until well after my 15thbirthday
Love
Mac
Good Morning Mac. I think you should be please. You put a lot of effort out to accomplish the task, and came very close to making it all the way. Yes there are lots of male nurses, but this was 1981 and my Grandfather was already into his 70′s. Very old fashion, males were doctors and girls were nurses in his world.
You are right, I am over joyed to be doing this, I was just thinking of the time that had past and forgot all the other wonderful things I have done in between then and now. Silly but I got too focused on the new and forgot the joy of my journey.
Have a great day, and warm thoughts,
Scottie
Not silly at all Scottie, one of things most likely to bring tears for me is the things that could have, should have been. WHile my life is in a mostly wonderful place now there’s a lot that I still deeply regret. Perhaps the worst thing was the seperation from my family and missing my 2 nieces and 2 nephews growing up. Being back in contact with my younger sister and being on the point of meeting one of my now grown up nephews is fantastic but the gulf between my older sister and my self is as wide as ever and I fear that it won’t heal, that’s the sort of thing that brings tears and regrets.
Then there’s the music career that my dad absolutely refused to allow, “not a proper career for a boy”, that brings tears of anger because I was good, I mean really good, and has someithing wonderful taken from me. It’s very hard to forgive or forget something like that even when I look back on the excitement that eventually became my life.
Love
Mac