This blog is about virtuous pride in one’s ability but merging on to self- idolatry.
It relates to the poem BEWARE PRIDE in BOOK ONE of my books POEMS BY AN OLD CODGER and is a lesson to all entering the teaching profession.
In the Autumn of 1959, I was one of the last young men to be called up for military service. I gained a permanent commission into the Royal Air Force Education Branch, specifically to teach in the Schools of Technical Training Command. I quickly learned that there was a presumption that one could teach any technical or scientific subject and deliver all education-related services in any RAF station. In my case, RAF Luqa in Malta.
After leaving school with a few ‘O’ levels, I became an Engineering Apprentice with Brookhirst Switchgear in Chester, manufacturing control gear for industry and marine vessels. As my apprenticeship progressed, I was lucky to be supported by the company on one of the very first three-year Sandwich Courses – six months in the company, six months full time at college. The ideal programme now widely offered to students. Furthermore, I was offered the opportunity to change from the company’s electrical training programme to a new production engineering programme – a growing recognition of need for such a department, as developed in the USA at the time.
I mention this brief note on my apprenticeship, as it prepared me for what developed when I began teaching at my first RAF school, and which is recorded in this poem.
I’ll let the poem tell the story and comment at the end.
Early Military Life 2
BEWARE PRIDE
RAF Uxbridge, home of the RAF School of Education,
Also, the Queen’s Flight for any ceremonial occasion,
Tall, smart, lads drilled to perfection,
Excellent example of the standard for any inspection.
We honed our teaching skills on them without protests,
Preparing them all to sit their RAF education tests.
Visual aids, Gestetner, and Banda with inky hands,
And well laid out teaching plans.
A pin-suited officer up from the ‘Smoke’,
Came to discuss postings, of which we then spoke.
“I’m posting you to No 4 School of Technical Training
To teach Engineering Drawing and enhance
the boys’ learning.”
Arrived, and duly reported to a Squadron Leader,
“Sir, posted in as instructed and I have my gear.”
This old chap, a dour Scot, leaned back in his chair,
Frustrated expression, a look of disdain and despair.
I sensed I had created an unwelcomed atmosphere,
“We stopped teaching that subject – that’s now history.
You’re teaching Maths, Science and Radio technology,
Two weeks to prepare for the start of the next Entry.”
Two thousand Boy Entrants learning various trades,
All seeking success and the highest of grades,
Moving from boyhood into manhood and maturity,
Pay parades on Thursdays, Church Parades obligatory.
As the weeks went on and the topics taught in silence,
Resistance, Capacitance, and relevant laws of science,
Transmission, Reception, and valve radio construction,
My confidence building beyond my expectation.
The lads mistook my presentation and tuition,
As someone who could repair a faulty radio station.
I had not noticed as I entered the class place,
One young lad brought with him a ‘weekend’ case.
As they sat in awe at my knowledge and explanation,
A hand went up, could I recover his radio station?
At that point, I dropped a fundamental clanger,
My response should have been to ‘see me later.’
“Let me have a look,” I spoke like an Ace.
Up came the lad with his radio suitcase,
“I lose the station when I turn this switch knob”.
I opened the back with a coin worth a ‘Bob’.
Tentatively, peering down into a complex box of tricks,
The battery within was the size of household bricks.
Wires were tugged, valves seats given a gentle blow,
Tension rising as the class looked on,
but I really did not know!
Then, what luck, I spotted my salvation,
The knob’s spindle circlip, with elation,
Lying at the bottom in all the dust,
Reaching that clip, nothing disturbed, is a must!
With unknown delicacy, the clip extracted,
Fitting it back on the groove was quite protracted.
“There you are lad” I said with pride,
And the class looked on in awe with eyes quite wide.
The following week, the class at work in front of me,
I was prompted to ask the fateful enquiry,
“How’s your radio now?” expecting satisfaction to purr,
“It was fine on Friday, blew up on Saturday, Sir!”.
That lesson has stayed with me, and I am no sage,
But watch your ego, know your limit, stay on message.
Pride comes before the fall,
Write that on your office wall
Copyright 2023 Neil Davies
As you may recall in one of my earlier blogs, I moved on from RAF Cosford after four years, posted to RAF Halton to teach entirely different engineering subjects. Fortunately, my apprenticeship training and college studies equipped me to respond to the variation in my duties.
A fundamental requirement at all times and in all circumstances of military life.
In truth, those starting off in life today must be prepared to meet challenges they will face. ACCEPT, RESPOND, ACHIEVE.
If you have enjoyed this poem, please tell your friends and family, or better still buy a copy of my books and support my charity*.
Thank you,
Stay safe,
Neil.
*THE BRITISH RED CROSS UKRAINE APPEAL.