On 9th February 1976 I got on a train to Hereford changing at Crewe then on arrival at Hereford a scary Sgt met us at the station and ordered us on a bus.
The training was difficult, getting up early, lots of physical stuff and all the learning, but the hardest was “not answering back”.
After basic training I went on home leave then arrived at RAF St Athan 2 weeks later, to learn how to drive the RAF way.
I was posted to RAF Shawbury, which I enjoyed, a small mostly helicopter flying station working with a good bunch of people.
I arrived at Rheindahlen in February 1979 just 3 years after joining up. Had an absolutely fantastic time there, enjoyed my job and the ability to travel around Europe was amazing.
Although I had had feelings about my sexuality prior to joining the WRAF, at a time when it was just not acceptable almost anywhere, especially in my small backward town, the feelings were pushed into a cupboard. So, I had a relationship (of convenience) with a woman for several months. She was posted back to the UK, and I was still in Germany.
By late 1980 I was told my new posting would be Brize Norton and I would be promoted to Corporal on posting.
I was so happy and pleased with myself that I had been promoted. But that happiness didn’t last long.
I arrived at Brize early February 1981. Between then and June 1981 was all a bit of a haze and still is , I don’t remember very much about my day to day existence , but once my personal effects arrived at Brize all hell broke loose.
I was interviewed, sorry, interrogated by SIB and told my room and personal effects would be searched and examined at great length, as it had come to their attention that I was a lesbian or words to that effect.
So I don’t remember what happened and in what order it happened, but I was cross examined, humiliated (asked about how I had sex with a woman and maybe I just needed a good man… etc etc) and very much ashamed.
Eventually I admitted it, they then had the audacity to tell me to give them names of other lesbians that I knew about, to which I declined and told them to do their own dirty work.
I was discharged on the 20th of June 1981. I was humiliated and very much ashamed. I lied to my family and said I had bought myself out and that I had got a job in England. To this day my family does not know that I was discharged for being gay, although I am well and truly out of the closet.
Today I have a very good life, but at 71 years old I am still very ashamed of it all and there are still lots of things I don’t remember.
