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Lot Essay
Sir John Colville served as Churchill's Private Secretary in the early part of the war. In 1941, wishing to take a more active part in events, Colville persuaded Churchill to release him to join the Royal Air Force. The RAF authorities did not see fit to commission him, and he was sent to South Africa as a Sergeant Pilot. He returned to Harrogate early in 1943, and describes the circumstances of his commissioning in Vol II of his memoirs "The Fringes of Power" as follows:
"A few days later while drilling with the other Sergeants, I was subjected to yet another embarrassment. A Corporal from the Orderly Room came rapidly across the parade-ground and spoke to the officer who was drilling us. We were called to a halt and the officer announced that Sergeant Colville was to report at once to the Commanding Officer. Though my conscience was reasonably clear, I was alarmed; it was like being summoned to the Headmaster's study.
I saluted and stood to attention.
"Sergeant Colville," said the CO, "I am instructed to commission you immediately as a Pilot Officer."
"But, Sir, I like being a Sergeant Pilot."
"Don't argue. Do as you are told. This is an order from the Air Ministry; and I am instructed to say that if you are short of money to buy a uniform, I am to advance you a loan."
I thought of protesting further, but I did want to join one of the Tactical Reconnaissance Squadrons, flying Mustangs, and for some obscure reason they would only accept officers. So after hasty reflection I decided to profit from this unexpected stroke of fortune. I simply said "Sir", which was the accepted way signifying obedience to an order, saluted once again and went into the town, without the proffered loan. I bought off-the-peg an officer's uniform that miraculously fitted. Together with the requisite cap, shirts and insignia it cost about 10 and required no clothing coupons.
I later discovered the reason for this curious development. The Prime Minister, having through some grapevine heard of my return, sent a telegram to the officers' mess at Harrogate, addressed to Pilot Officer Colville. It read: "Delighted you are safely back. Pray seek permission to come to Chequers for Luncheon on Wednesday. Winston S. Churchill."
The telegram hung about in the Officers' Mess for forty-eight hours, until the Adjutant, having ascertained that no Pilot Officer Colville was expected, opened it. When he read the contents he was aghast, as he subsequently told me, and rang up the Air Ministry. Terror was struck there too and instructions were at once given that I must be commissioned at all costs. So, to the relief of the Air Ministry, I arrived at Chequers where Churchill was recovering from pneumonia, wearing the uniform and Wings of a Pilot Officer. It was a peculiar way of earning a commission, but the Prime Minister did not have the slightest idea of what he had done"
The cyphers on the uniform date from the period 1947-49, when Colville served as Princess Elizabeth's Private Secretary.
"A few days later while drilling with the other Sergeants, I was subjected to yet another embarrassment. A Corporal from the Orderly Room came rapidly across the parade-ground and spoke to the officer who was drilling us. We were called to a halt and the officer announced that Sergeant Colville was to report at once to the Commanding Officer. Though my conscience was reasonably clear, I was alarmed; it was like being summoned to the Headmaster's study.
I saluted and stood to attention.
"Sergeant Colville," said the CO, "I am instructed to commission you immediately as a Pilot Officer."
"But, Sir, I like being a Sergeant Pilot."
"Don't argue. Do as you are told. This is an order from the Air Ministry; and I am instructed to say that if you are short of money to buy a uniform, I am to advance you a loan."
I thought of protesting further, but I did want to join one of the Tactical Reconnaissance Squadrons, flying Mustangs, and for some obscure reason they would only accept officers. So after hasty reflection I decided to profit from this unexpected stroke of fortune. I simply said "Sir", which was the accepted way signifying obedience to an order, saluted once again and went into the town, without the proffered loan. I bought off-the-peg an officer's uniform that miraculously fitted. Together with the requisite cap, shirts and insignia it cost about 10 and required no clothing coupons.
I later discovered the reason for this curious development. The Prime Minister, having through some grapevine heard of my return, sent a telegram to the officers' mess at Harrogate, addressed to Pilot Officer Colville. It read: "Delighted you are safely back. Pray seek permission to come to Chequers for Luncheon on Wednesday. Winston S. Churchill."
The telegram hung about in the Officers' Mess for forty-eight hours, until the Adjutant, having ascertained that no Pilot Officer Colville was expected, opened it. When he read the contents he was aghast, as he subsequently told me, and rang up the Air Ministry. Terror was struck there too and instructions were at once given that I must be commissioned at all costs. So, to the relief of the Air Ministry, I arrived at Chequers where Churchill was recovering from pneumonia, wearing the uniform and Wings of a Pilot Officer. It was a peculiar way of earning a commission, but the Prime Minister did not have the slightest idea of what he had done"
The cyphers on the uniform date from the period 1947-49, when Colville served as Princess Elizabeth's Private Secretary.