BOB Hounslow had some scary moments as he hitchhiked to and from camp during his National Service with the RAF.

He recalls: “My friend, Mick Taylor, and I were based at Innsworth, near Gloucester, and had lifts in all sorts of vehicles, from the sublime – a luxurious Daimler – to the ridiculous – sat on the straw inside an empty horse box.

“Our most bizarre lift was with a drunk American, steering a little old Austin 7 with one hand while swigging a bottle of whisky with the other and we fervently praying he would remain conscious long enough to get us home to Oxford.

“We tried hitchhiking to camp once and it was an absolute disaster.

“We had to be back by midnight and it was dark and motorists either couldn’t see us or wouldn’t stop at night.

“The only lift we could get was with a lorry carrying a huge pile of empty milk crates.

“The only snag was we couldn’t ride in the driver’s nice warm cab – we had to shelter behind a block of crates from the 50mph wind that blew at us for mile upon mile.

“We were frozen stiff when we reached journey’s end, so much so that the driver and a policeman had to help us down off the lorry.

“We just stood there like zombies, trying to get the blood circulating round our bodies again.”

After that experience, the two friends always caught a bus from Gloucester Green to Gloucester.

Mr Hounslow, of Squires Close, Brize Norton, writes: “If we were lucky and arrived early, we could catch a bus to the camp gates.

“Otherwise, it meant taking a mysterious train that ran late at night from Cheltenham to Gloucester.

“Its carriages were very old, with a musty smell, mixed with the faint aroma of onions.

“The lighting was by gas mantles glowing inside huge glass domes suspended from the ceiling.

“It was a very surreal experience and made us think we’d stepped through a time warp to a different age every time we used this train.”

Despite the hardships, motorists showed great compassion towards National Servicemen.

Mr Hounslow tells me: “If they saw a serviceman hitch hiking, they’d stop and give him a lift, knowing full well their action would be reciprocated by someone else for their own family member.

“We servicemen from that era owe a debt of gratitude towards those motorists, so could I say on their behalf, thank you for the kindness you showed us – it was greatly appreciated.”

Any other memories of time spent in uniform on National Service to share with readers? Write and let me know.