Joint? Don't make me laugh!

[metalthrower]

Had the 'pleasure' of visiting the secret college of knowledge just outside Swindon recently - on entering the bar it was very apparent that light blue stayed with light blue , green with green and dark blue with dark blue. Left bemoaning "well if we can't have a beer together what chance have we got" So went to the bar back on Stn to cheer myself up. Walking in I noticed that all the aircrew were collected in one half and all the non aircrew were in the other half. Why? We may not all do the same job but why do we still have the divide? Any thoughts or am I being too pessimistic?

[tablet_eraser]

Nope, you've hit the nail on the head. For "joint" armed forces, we're probably the most tribal organisation on God's good earth!

[glum]

Because we all talk about different things from what I can tell.

The aircrew all jabber on about flying, the groundcrew about where they've been and got pissed. Occasionally mutual conversations occur, but mostly it's too much like hard work to cross over.

I don't think it's much to do with rank or status or respect, just that we all do different things and tend to talk about what we know.

The GE's cross over more than most as they're practically aircrew anyway, at least for the length of the tour.

No different to a normal pub where like minded groups sit together...

[Spotting Bad Guys]

Actually, my experiences have been quite the reverse; HMS Nelson in particular made this crab very welcome whilst on a visit some years ago.

I think actually we're often the worst hosts of the three Services!

SBG:ok:

[Pontius Navigator]

Ah, but what sort of crab?

At Rosyth we were all but ignored until we said how much we enjoyed listening to a particular nuke as it banged and clattered round the Atlantic.

When Captain Dreadnught was all ears we tols him, politely, to get stuffed. We relented later :D

[BEagle]

"HMS Nelson in particular made this crab very welcome whilst on a visit some years ago."

Fresh meat in the barrel, perhaps?

[Thud_and_Blunder]

I agree about "our" (I'm 3 years out, now) hosting skills. While on exchange with the AAC I had to live in an Infantry Mess at Oakington to begin with. Very much welcomed into the fold and made to feel at home. Contrast this with my return to Odiham; sat in the bar having lunch, I was startled by a guttural shout from a bunch of aircrew (including some of my students :rolleyes: ) who'd spotted a youthful army visitor shoving his beret in his pocket as he entered the room. This in a Mess with - as has previously been stated on these pages - no specific dress rules, a privilege these same studes were keen to pursue whenever it suited them. Our visitor turned bright red and left. I tracked him down to the ante-room, apologised for the conduct of my brother officers and offered him a drink, but the damage was done. There's a bloke who may rise to senior rank, and whose impressions of the RAF are probably tarnished forever by the self-righteous Hat Gestapo...

[SilsoeSid]

Many moons ago, this lonely aviator was caught out one wet winters evening up in the depths of Scotland.

As all hope of getting back to Yorkshire was diminishing as fast as the light, it seemed that the golfers at Troon were indicating, by use of hand signals, a turn of 2 degrees quickly :rolleyes: , which would see me to Prestwick.

After unexpectedly turning up at Prestwick, ATC directed me to HMS Gannet where I was immediately met by a marshaller, refuelled and assisted with the tie down kit.

Greeting me at the steps of the Ops room was the Duty Pilot who had already arranged accomodation and food for me in the Mess and more importantly at the time had a brew waiting in the kettle. Dinner, although well out of hours was a choice of many, although Steak & Chips personally cooked, had the desired attraction.

The rest of the evening was as hospitable as one could wish for, and as it happened there were also couple of light blues there on course. The next day the weather eventually cleared and off I went on my way with new faith in a bright new future of a 'Joint Force'.

Many incidents such as the one above occured to me after this particular event, (perhaps I should read the met better! ;) ), and whether dark or light blue, ground or air crew, in particular foreign units abroad, I was made to feel welcome.

Jointery is/was out there, Perhaps it just depends on the persons involved! :ok:

[metalthrower]

Glum - "No different to a normal pub where like minded groups sit together..."

Well...apart from the fact that we're meant to go to war together now. Like any good team sport, and drinking is undoubtedly best played as a team sport, surely its in our best interests to make the effort now and find out what make seach other tick. You never know it might actually be enjoyable talking to someone else!

I suppose my argument is a bit self defeating - how can we hope to be joint with the other services if we can't manage it on home plate?

[uncivilservant]

Back in the good/bad (you choose) old days before DLO, there used to be good inter-service cooperation in the DHSA ... and not just when ganging up on civil servants! Mind you, that might have been unity in the face of adversity, as certain outside organisations were doing their best to sabotage DHSA's efforts to do its job.

[airborne_artist]

They don't make them like this any more:

Wing Commander "Buster" Briggs, who has died aged 87, was evacuated from the beaches of Dunkirk as a subaltern in the Coldstream Guards, and four years later towed gliders in the invasion of Europe as the wing commander of an RAF Halifax squadron.

In early 1941, Briggs started a period of loan service to the RAF. When Air Vice-Marshal "Ugly" Barratt, Air Officer Commanding Army Co-Operation, visited his new unit at Ringway, Manchester, Briggs was introduced as one of the pilots. Barratt asked why he was not wearing pilot's wings on his new RAF uniform as a Pilot Officer, and when told that he had not completed an official pilot's course, ordered Briggs to put them up next day. Briggs thus joined Winston Churchill as the only other "unqualified" person to have this honour.

Geoffrey Harry Briggs, known since boyhood as "Buster", was born in Oxford on March 22 1918. After attending Abingdon School and Eton, he went to Sandhurst before being gazetted as a second lieutenant in the 1st Battalion, Coldstream Guards, in 1938. The choice of regiment came about when he was shooting at the next peg to the colonel, who was so impressed by the way Briggs shot a very high right-and-left that he invited him to join.

Briggs became a prominent member of the Household Brigade Flying Club, and soon displayed his skill as a glider pilot at Dunstable. His flights started with his soldier servant, Guardsman Lock, securing the canopy of his glider, seeing him airborne and then towing the trailer to the agreed rendezvous, usually an inn.

Briggs landed at Cherbourg with his regiment on September 30 1939, and spent one of the coldest winters on record preparing trenches, pillboxes and wire emplacements. The 1st Battalion moved forward to a position on the river Dyle and Herent canal near Louvain. When the Germans attacked on the night of May 14 the Coldstreams had to make a series of fighting withdrawals.

After six days continually on the move, they held the line for a further four days before the survivors reached the beaches at La Panne, east of Dunkirk, and were evacuated on June 1. After reforming at Aldershot, the 1st Battalion took up defensive positions at Rustington, Sussex, in anticipation of an invasion.

Briggs next responded to a request by the RAF for applications to transfer from the Army for flying duties. With the formation of the Glider Pilot Regiment, the RAF asked for his loan, and Acting Pilot Officer Briggs joined the Glider Exercise Unit instructing soldiers to fly Hotspur gliders and Tiger Moths at Ringway, Manchester.

In January 1942 his unit was redesignated No 296 Squadron and re-equipped with twin-engine Whitley bombers to tow gliders. On one occasion he was forced to bale out when the undercarriage failed.

After a year Briggs joined No 295 Squadron and converted to the four-engine Halifax. When not involved in towing gliders, he dropped supplies over enemy-occupied countries in support of the SOE. In June 1943 he towed one of 30 Horsa gliders from Cornwall to Morocco, a distance of 1,300 miles, in daylight, going over the Atlantic to avoid German fighters based in western France. The next stage was a 1,000-mile flight over mountains to Kairouan in Tunisia, where the gliders had a week to prepare for Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily.

On the night of July 9, Briggs was heading for the island when the Horsa he was towing was damaged by anti-aircraft fire. He immediately offered to tow it back to base, but the Horsa's Army pilot insisted on carrying on, and Briggs released him over the coast of Sicily.

The Chairman of the Glider Pilot Association described Briggs as: "an illustrious tug pilot who behaved with considerable courage and consideration for his passengers on the 'run in' over Sicily - in stark contrast to some other Allied pilots. Of course we knew he was in the Coldstream Guards." Briggs was mentioned in dispatches.

Once back in England, he was made a flight commander on No 298 Squadron at Tarrant Rushton, Dorset. He flew one of the Halifax aircraft that towed the six gliders with men of the Oxford & Bucks Light Infantry who seized the Pegasus Bridge over the River Orne. Briggs flew further sorties to support the invading forces before reverting to supply-drops for SOE.

After D-Day, he found a damaged Hurricane in France and arranged for one of his airmen to patch it up and paint his initials on it. He used it for several weeks as his personal transport, until he was rumbled and the authorities asked for it back.

He towed gliders to Arnhem for Operation Market, and assumed command of the squadron, as a wing commander, when the commanding officer was killed. He was soon awarded a DFC for "fearlessness and persistence, which have won him many successes. He is a fine leader."

After three years of operational flying, Briggs was rested and sent as an instructor at the School of Air Support at Old Sarum. He later commanded No 190 Squadron, which ferried Army personnel to disarm the Germans in Norway. But soon afterwards he contracted polio, which affected his arm; his flying career was over.

He returned to the Coldstreams as a captain; and, on being invalided out of the service in July 1946, was allowed to retain the rank of wing commander.

As soon as he had recovered from polio Briggs purchased an ocean-racing yacht, and with a crew of convalescents from the RAF hospital at Goring, sailed to Scandinavia, where it was the first private yacht to arrive after the war. Sailing remained a great interest and, for almost 60 years, he was a member of the Household Division and Itchenor Sailing Clubs.

Briggs farmed in West Sussex, where he was appointed a High Sheriff and a Deputy Lieutenant; he was an excellent shot and a keen fisherman.

Buster Briggs, who died on April 13, married, in 1947, Elizabeth ("Wizzie") Swithinbank, who died in 1982; he is survived by three sons and a daughter.