OK, this is my longest post to date!
The F4 was my first aircraft after passing out of Halton as a young LAC Rigger in 1977. I was posted to 23 Sqn which was then 'boltholed' at RAF Wethersfield from Wattisham. It was, obviously, my first taste of real aircraft maintenance, flight line servicing and squadron life. And I couldn't have picked a better aircraft or squadron to cut my teeth on.
Everything that I now take for granted I learnt during my time on the F4.
I learnt strange words like: Houchin, Liney, OTR, Fairies, Plumbers, Sooties, Growbags, Koch, 'Leckies, Squawk Box, Wobbly Orange, Jammer, QRA, TACEVAL, MAXEVAL... the list is endless, but you get my drift.
I learnt all about detachment rules, how to speed-eat (especially at supper time), how to fit a drag chute and not catch my nipple in the door whilst trying to close the bl**dy door and pull the T-handle at the same time, how to put out a starter fire with just my woolly-hat, how to free a stuck arrestor hook during a crew-in with just a marshalling bat (very hot and dodgy!), how to stamp rounds into the links ready for loading the gun (not my trade but everybody seemed to join in especially during APC), again the list is endless.
I remember sitting around outside the line hut during summer air defence exercises waiting for the line sgt to shout scramble, and then running like mad to get to the aircraft first. During one of these at Wethersfield I seem to remember being passed by a pilot or navigator on a bike. 'What a good idea', I thought, until his PEC got caught in the rear wheel and he fell off in a crumpled heap. I didn't know whether to stop and help or continue running to my aircraft...I continued running!
23 sqn also gave me my first taste of QRA. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment then, certainly no video games or the like, so we played Uckers for hours interspersed with setting fire to people who had made the mistake of falling asleep! You were also almost guaranteed at least one live scramble to make it all worthwhile. At first I thought these scramble starts were just sheer panic but slowly (after getting the hang of them) I realised that they were well organised panics and everyone had their own part to play. This didn't stop us from (at least) once sending off Q1 with all the Noddy caps still on though. It took an awful lot of strength to pull them off after the sortie!
I remember my first APC detachment in the Med, it was hot, hard, non-stop work and there seemed to be a never ending queue of Phantoms waiting to be OTR'd.
I also learnt the noble art of riggering on the Phantom. I learnt that drilled out rivet tails, if not retrieved from within the flaps or ailerons make a lot of messy dents in the skin when they vibrate and bang around at Mach 2!
I learnt that the rear canopy will jettison if you forget to bypass one of the cartridges during canopy jettison checks. It makes an impressive bang and goes an even more impressive long way as well! I learnt how to wire-lock whilst hanging upside down, how to drill and easy-out stuck screws, how to leap up on to the wing using the Fletcher tank, how to hang on to the folded outer wing in the wind and the rain without dropping it onto the heads of my fellow riggers below. I learnt so many things and got to know the F4 inside out.
It was a strong ac and took a lot of punishment. I also think it was the noisiest although the Tornado intake noise is quite bad. I can recall being on the outside during reheat engine runs and feeling my body organs move. Your 'mates' would try to push your ear defenders against the fuselage so that your brain would physically vibrate in your skull! If it was during the evening or night we would stand behind the blast deflector vanes on the sheepdip and watch the reheat light up, it was a fantastic sight!
It was somewhere amongst all this that I realised that I had definitely made the right decision when I walked into the CIO.
Anyway, enough of my ramblings.
Those are just a few of my memories of the Phantom and I hope I never lose them.