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MPN11
28th Feb 2016, 09:50
Thank you for the picture of the Wound Stripes worn by your Great-Uncle Jack. But what about that marvellous old Captain seated in front of them - an absolute dead-ringer for Captain Square of "Dad's Army" - do we know anything about him ?
Looks like a "dug-out" from the Boer War (or earlier) ?
The RFC captain is my great-grandfather [the 3rd person is my RNAS Air Mechanic grandfather, on the left].

Dug-out indeed, and serving well before the Boer War[s] ... b. 1855, d. 1924.

* Originally Scots Gds, Egypt Medal 1882 with Tel el Kebir bar as C/Sgt [Regtl No. 2972], later to 4th Bn. Royal Fusiliers as RQMS and Sergeant Major [1889]. In 1903 commissioned QM (Hon Capt) 4th (V) Bn Royal Fusiliers, retd 1907. Recalled to colours Aug 1914 as Temp QM & Hon Capt in Carmarthenshire Bn of Welch Army Corps. Dec 1915 transferred to General List. Home Service in various Ordnance Depot appointments and on 19 Oct 1917 transferred to School of Military Aeronautics, Reading, as Equipment Officer 3rd Class, RFC [= Capt]. Subsequently on 1 Apr 1918 transferred to RAF, transferred to Unemployed List 31 Oct 1919 [oooh, my birth date!].

"As at 17 Nov 14 he had 22 years and 4 months previous service in the Regular Army [in non-commissioned ranks]", so I assume he joined somewhere around 1870. The numbers don't quite seem to add up from that statement, though.


* The above from Army Records, letter dated 10 Oct 1988. As you can see, I instigated some research on the family after coming into possession of that photo [and their medals] after my father died.

Stanwell
28th Feb 2016, 16:26
Just to expand a bit on the Boomerang...

As mentioned by Fareastdriver, it did indeed share the same bloodline as the Texan/Harvard trainers so well remembered by Danny and others.

What I didn't know until a little earlier this evening was that the Boomerang was designed by an Austrian Jew by the name of Fred David.
He'd arrived in Australia as a refugee from Europe and on the outbreak of war, was promptly interned as an enemy alien.

Somehow, he came to the notice of Lawrence Wackett, the head of CAC (Commonwealth Aircraft Corporation) which had been manufacturing the Wirraway.
He'd apparently previously worked for Heinkel in pre-war Germany as well as Mitsubishi and Aichi in Japan.
Two aircraft, in particular, that he'd been involved with were the Heinkel 112 fighter (said by many, including the late Eric 'Winkle' Brown, to have been superior to the Me109).
The other one of note was the Mitsubishi A6M 'Zero'.

Thus, he had a pretty fair understanding of advanced fighter design.

Now, at that stage of the war, Australia had nothing capable of air defence except the Wirraway trainer, armed with two forward-firing (plus one cupola mounted) .303s.
Naturally, this was causing not a little anxiety as, in 1941, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Japan was shortly to enter the war in a big way.
We needed something - and quick!

So, Lawrie (Wackett), Fred (Davis) and the boys had a bit of a rummage around in the shed.
Well, we could turn out NA16 parts and General Motors-Holdens were by then producing P&W 1830s for the Beaufort program, so...
Fred Davis took his pencil from behind his ear, sat down and came up with his concept for a small, fast and highly manoeuvrable fighter that would stand a chance against the Zero.

As an aside, to show how desperate things were down here, on the subject of armament for it, at the time we had, suitable for aircraft,
only .303 machine guns.
However... an airman returning from the North Africa campaign had brought home a souvenir - a British Hispano-Suiza 20mm cannon.
This was grabbed, locally reverse engineered and... Voila! - something nice to fit into the wings.

What turned out to be the CA12 Boomerang was deemed to be pretty good by the standards of the day, except...
It wasn't quite fast enough and wouldn't perform adequately at altitudes much over 15,000ft.
Much midnight oil was being burned to improve these aspects of its performance, when...

Along came the Cavalry!! - the Yanks had arrived, with all their goodies!

So, the muscly and powerfully-armed little Boomerang went on to perform very creditably in other roles - and the rest, as they say...


Oh dear, Danny, we got side-tracked once again. ;)
.

Fantome
28th Feb 2016, 17:17
....... great account . .. . suppose Matt Denning knows the Fred David story, Matt, the all time Boomer source of lore, legend and how to build one up from many components.
(Took Matt years, starting in his youth . . but in the end he did it and now flies the one Temora acquired from him) In my youth in Canberra, one AIRCDRE Lloyd Davies, RAAF ret'd . .. . gave me some photo prints from his archive. The one of a Boomerang has written on the back .. 'Ground-looping little bastard'.

http://ih0.redbubble.net/image.5339342.9421/flat,1000x1000,075,f.jpg (http://www.redbubble.com/people/aircraft-photos/works/2729421-c-a-c-boomerang-raaf-ww2-fighter-aircraft)


. . . and a favourite wartime shot . . . .. Alf Clare flying Sinbad 11 .. . .



AWM caption : Mareeba, Qld. 1944-03-15. "White Feller's Boomerang" in flight. An Australian-built CAC Boomerang (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CAC_Boomerang) fighter aircraft coded BF-S (serial no. A46-126) nicknamed "Sinbad II" of No. 5 (Tactical Reconnaissance) Squadron RAAF, piloted by 402769 Flight Lieutenant A. W. B. Clare of Newcastle, NSW.https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Boomerang_%28AWM_0408%29.jpg (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Boomerang_%28AWM_0408%29.jpg)

Dora-9
28th Feb 2016, 18:10
written on the back .. 'Ground-looping little bastard'...which more or less reflects the opinion of the Toowoomba team that flew the A46-206 restoration!

I can still recall seeing this one at Chino around 1993 - I got wildly excited, having no idea that there were any (at that time) flying Boomerang restorations, but my three fellow crew members, ALL Australians, were not only bemused by my jumping up and down but didn't know what a Boomerang was!

Lynette Zuccolli generously donated this Boomerang to the Army Aviation Museum at Oakey in 2007.

Danny42C
28th Feb 2016, 21:21
Fantome and Dora-9,
...'Ground-looping little bastard'...
Inherited that from the AT6A/Harvard !
...gave me some photo prints from his archive...
Beautiful ones, too - the first (I presume on takeoff) - why not a bit of flap to help ?

The second: I never saw "faired-in" exhaust pipes like that on any other aircraft. Clearly to reduce drag (and I'd think, as a bonus, some cockpit heating, but that might be unwelcome low level in summer).

Reading the Wiki entry, came across:
....Aircraft of comparable role, configuration and era.....Vultee P-66 Vanguard...
and sat up with a jerk ! (never heard of it - YLSNED). Followed-up, and came to:
...Related development....Vultee BT-13 Valiant...
on which I spent 70 not very happy hours (cf my Post p.119 #2367).

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Feb 2016, 14:26
Brian 48nav (your #8237),

For a couple of days I have been mulling over your mild "rant", particularly your:
...my age was displayed. Then under 'ATC Issues' another poster disagreed with my opinion and called me a coffin-dodger...
You were fully entitled to your "rant" ! For this was unfair, unpleasant, uncalled for, and leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.

It shows that some of our members have no conception of the nature of military service. In war, I've often said that: "we each had to fight the war we were given" - there was no choice. So it is, and always be, in military service, even in peace. It may be that you serve your entire time and never hear a shot fired in anger, while someone five or ten years younger (or older) has heard all too much ! But that is "the luck of the draw", nothing more.

In my own case, on leaving OTU in '42, I might have stayed in the UK, gone into Fighter Command and spent my time on "sweeps" over France and the Low Counties, basically looking for trouble - and usually finding it. Or (more likely), I might have been twin-converted and been switched across into Bomber Command, in which case my survival (with nearly three years of operations ahead) would have been more than doubtful.

Instead I was sent out to India. At the time (mid-'42) the colonial empires in SE Asia were falling like ninepins to the all-conquering Japanese; there was no confidence that lightly defended India would fare any better. We were generally thought to be on a one-way trip, just to be a delaying force, buying time to allow as many of the white civil population to get away as possible. Our fate was to be death or imprisonment in the hands of the Japanese (which in many cases amounted to the same thing).

As we know now, it didn't happen. The line was held (but it was a "damn'd close-run thing"). Then for two years we had the nearest thing to risk-free operations imaginable in the VVs. Why the Japanese Army Commanders in Burma didn't use their "Oscars" to wipe us out (which they could easily have done) we'll never know. Perhaps their book said that they were supplied "for Army Co-operation duties" - and the Generals never raised their eyes to the skies.

"Luck of the draw !" :ok:

Danny.

Danny42C
29th Feb 2016, 15:00
Just happened to come across a reference to the "Spitfire" Mk.26b, of which I'd never previously heard.

Looked-up:

PPRuNe Forums > Non-Airline Forums > Private Flying
Reload this Page Spitfire Mk 26 - real or not real?

There are 8 pages of it; look at Page 3, #54 and #55, for some good videos.

Remarkably similar to the real thing !

Danny.

Fantome
29th Feb 2016, 18:28
'Luck of the Draw' would make a good title for your memoir Danny.

Also what the late Ted Sly called his great read (92 East India Sqn in North Africa where he and Nevil Duke became lifelong mates)

http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/OTk5WDEzMzE=/z/t3cAAOSwpDdVCPpF/$_35.JPG (http://www.ebay.com.au/itm/The-Luck-of-the-Draw-Horses-Spitfires-Kittyhawks-by-Edward-Ted-Sly-/291410128465)

Danny42C
29th Feb 2016, 22:12
Fantome,

Thanks - but I'm not writing any memoirs ! (haven't the time).

Danny.

Union Jack
29th Feb 2016, 22:37
Thanks - but I'm not writing any memoirs! (haven't the time). - Danny

So that's what they're not called.....:ok:

Jack

Brian 48nav
1st Mar 2016, 09:42
Thank you for your kind words of support.

Re memoirs - some 30 years ago we moved to Bourton, a village in north Dorset and frequented the local pub. I used to exchange pleasantries with an 'old boy' who always used the same bar stool every Saturday and Sunday lunchtime.

The publican had started encouraging people to bring in surplus headgear and stick them on the ceiling of the bar. About 3 years after I had moved there I took in my old RAF forage cap and while fixing it to the ceiling the 'old boy' said, 'I should have brought mine in'. I told him I had been a Herc' nav' and he told me that he had been a pilot.

It took me the best part of 10 years to glean what he had done, I guess he didn't want to be heard 'shooting a line'.

Douglas had been a Halton brat in the early '30s and was one of those very few airmen to be selected for pilot training. As a Sgt Pilot he was posted to Fairy Battles and after war was declared was part of the BEF sent to France. In the spring of 1940 while Douglas was home on leave the Blitzkrieg started and most of his mates were wiped out.

In 1990 I watched on TV Sir Christopher Foxley Norris lead the 300 or so B of B survivors out of Buck House for the 50th anniversary celebrations. I asked Douglas the next day had he seen it and he replied, 'Yes I saw old Chris'. 'You knew him then', I replied. 'Yes, we were on the same squadron in '44'. I dragged out of him that they were on a Beaufighter squadron that was part of Max Aitken's wing at Banff. Their role was anti-shipping strikes.

After finding out that post war when Douglas was on the Central Fighter Establishment, he received a call from his desk officer to the effect that he had a 'career' posting for him, 'That sounds good, what career posting is that?' says Douglas, 'Korea, you're going to fly with the USAF on Sabres', came the reply, I pleaded with Douglas to write his memoirs as he had such a story to tell. He flatly refused. 'I can't be bothered with that old boy, and who would want to read them?. Such a shame.

Douglas eventually made Grp Cpt and retired from the RAF in 1971. I think his last job was OC the Area ATC unit at Bukit Gombak ( think the place is right ) in Singapore.

He didn't even tell his wife when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer - his death came as a complete surprise to her!

He was part of a group of old retired officers who met for lunch every so often at the pub - one or two of those had also stories to tell!

MPN11
1st Mar 2016, 10:20
@ Brian 48nav ... what a shame! Some very interesting tales disappeared down the drain there. And what an 'interesting' career Douglas had!

Not that we will be able easily to verify, but there were 2 relevant Units in Singapore at that time:

Bukit Gombak was the Air Defence radar unit, and would almost certainly have had a gp capt OC.
Paya Lebar [then the main airport] was also the home of Singapore Radar, a joint Civil/Military Area ATC outfit, and would have had a wg cdr OC RAF element at best.

Fareastdriver
1st Mar 2016, 18:59
“I see you’re due for a manual letdown”. John said with a grin. “You should be used to it, spending all that time flying the Anson.”
Flying an aircraft which was designed before powered controls were invented was slightly different from flying an aircraft which needed them to do its job. However, the requirement was to land it without any power once every three months and the tick had to be put up. Twenty degrees was the maximum angle of bank allowed in manual so as I turned the aircraft onto the letdown heading I strained against the resistance to apply some bank. The aircraft grudgingly reacted; five, seven, ten degrees and I heaved the other way so that it would stop at twenty. More grunting and groaning as I levelled it out. With the forces involved it would be impossible to land it at this speed but things got a lot better below 150 knots. At the descent point just closing the throttles and deploying the airbrakes would position the aircraft into a 250 knot descent without touching the controls.

Once below 190 knots the flaps were lowered to twenty degrees with another few degrees of tailplane incidence to compensate. At this speed the aircraft was still very heavy and spongy but the grunts and groans had slackened to mere verbal abuse. 5,400rpm on the engines covered everything on the Valiant so as the gear went down it settled at 145 knots. And as I collected the ILS glideslope I called for forty degrees flap and it responded by going straight into a 600ft/min descent. Just before touchdown I called for the power to be taken off and John throttled back the engines, the first time they had been touched since levelling out. Below 130knots the aircraft was very manageable so there was no difficulty in landing it.

After shutdown we climbed into the crew bus and went back to operations to tidy up the paperwork. The food was better in operations than the officer’s mess. It was explained to me that ration truck went round the station in the order of sergeants, airman’s, operations and the officer’s messes, so all the junk was given to the officers. In my relatively short time in the Air Force I could believe it.

The next day was spent tidying up the various minor details. As far as the LOA was concerned nothing had changed but the NCOs and airmen were getting their hotel bill paid in toto. That’s democracy for you. The navigators were already in operations with smoking whiz-wheels sorting out the final headings and times. When they came back we had a full meteorological and navigation brief for the entire route. The weather was fine with no jet streams to interfere so it looked as everything would be fairly straightforward. The short pilot’s brief merely instructed us to do a water-methanol takeoff to prove the system.

We all went into operations to get our flying kit and I did the takeoff calculations. With full fuel, by the time you had deducted the taxiing allowance you were at 175,00lbs, which was the Maximum All Up Weight. I did not know how much we had in the way of spares in the bomb bay pannier and I didn’t want to. 143 knots was the unstick speed at that weight so the only things to work out were the acceleration, safety and stop speeds which varied with temperature, atmospheric pressure, wind and runway length available. There was a welter of ‘see you laters’ as the lead tanker crew got into their bus. As there was still half-an-hour or so to go before we went I stacked up in the canteen.

Eventually the bewitching hour came and all fifteen of us climbed into crew buses. Our three aircraft were leaving at the same time and to be kept informed of what was going on all the aircraft intercoms were plugged into Telebrief, a system where anybody from C in C Bomber Command to station ops could talk directly to an aircraft. This time we also had Chief Technician Donohue who was the aircraft’s crew chief. We had just about got up to the planned engine start time when were we told to wait as there had been a problem. One of the Javelins had burst a tyre taxiing out and the whole show was being delayed whilst they were changing a wheel on the holding point. Even though the lead tanker was now burning up fuel at Spurn Head it still only needed three tankers to take four Javelins to Cyprus. We, as No 4, were there as insurance owing to the nature of the job so we had loads of spare fuel. The delay was only thirty minutes or so, so we started up and taxiied out.

It never ceases to amaze me how aircraft survive the abuse that they get both on the ground and in the air. Watching the first one turn onto the runway the tandem mainwheels were twisting the entire undercarriage leg as they tried to follow different radiuses of turn. When he had his engines up to full power everything that wasn’t bolted together was shaking. The entire tailplane, flaps and wingtips were just a blur. He released the brakes and the roar grew louder as the water- meth went in and he rolled off down the runway. Getting airborne was going to take nearly 7,000ft of a 9,000ft runway and it looked it. As he rotated into the air two enormous white vortices poured off the wings as they grappled for lift, a pause and the undercarriage legs slowly canted out into the wings. The initial rate of climb was pathetic, it did not really get going until the flaps were up at about 200 knots but it was, however, better than the Victor Mk1 that had to clean up to get some ground separation. We moved forward as the second aircraft lined up. There was a slight crosswind so he waited until all the ensuring vapour and associated turbulence had moved aside and then off he went. I ran through the speeds again as we lined up..

John called for 8,000 rpm. So I advanced the throttles and I monitored the revs and JPTs as they went up. The haze had cleared so he released the brakes and we ambled forward. After eight seconds I switched on the water-meth. All four swung smoothly up to 8,300 and the aircraft started to show a lot more interest. Once it got over the initial inertia it actually accelerated quite well. I was waiting for the acceleration check line with one eye on the engines. The acceleration marker swept under the nose and I called ‘Up Three’.

We were getting a move on now and so was the end of the runway. Just below 120 knots John started to pull back on the control column to get the nosewheel rising and as it passed 140 another gentle pull made sure the wheels unstuck and we were on our way. He called for the undercarriage and I pressed the up button to start them moving. Flap was delayed until the water-meth ran out as one sink was enough without arranging for them both to be together. A drop in the noise as the engines backed off to 8,000 and with that he called for the flaps to come up. When the flaps had cleared and the speed was up to 200 knots I pulled the engines back to 7,800, we turned right and went for the 250-knot climb speed. The after take off checks were read by the AEO and after they were complete I looked over at everything to see how the aircraft was getting on. As we climbed up above the cloud we could see our compatriots ahead so we followed them to the Norfolk coast. As we passed 25,000 ft we changed over to the Trimmingham GCI radar unit who vectored us onto the lead tanker.

The Royal Air Force has a long tradition of female fighter controllers so she put us about four miles to the east of them and turned us in when we still appeared to be miles away. But as we were approaching each other at something like sixteen miles a minute by the time we had reversed our direction we were slotted in nicely about half a mile on their port side. Number three Javelin was just pulling out; he moved over and let the fourth go in. There was a big conversation between the navigators on the chat frequency and it transpired that we would not be taking any fuel this time because our share had been used up whilst the tanker had been waiting for the fighters.

The two Valiant tanker squadrons were continuously doing mutual training between their own aircraft not only to keep them in practice for serving other aircraft but also for occasions like this. The pilots were in top form so they collected their 7500lbs of fuel each in about five minutes. With us not having to load up we were now nicely in a Vic formation so the Javelins positioned themselves in pairs either side of us. The first tanker now started to descend back to Honington to refuel and carry on independently to Cyprus. It was going to be a long day for them.

The French coast was now coming up and we changed height slightly to fit in with the metric system of flight levels. There was not a lot to do until we reached the Mediterranean so to pass the time I practised close formation with the leader. Having just come out of a period in my life when I was used to having the leader’s wingtip on my lap I was good at it. There was nothing written down as far as positioning was concerned so I had to make it up as I went along. I lined up on the elevator hinge and moved in so that his pitot head was on the cockpit DV (direct vision) window and judging by comments like ‘would you like a cup of tea’ from their rear crew this was close enough. We were passing over a layer of cirro-stratus and looking back at our shadows it suggested that this was as good as any. I could also see that the Javelins on my port side had joined in and were tucked in as close as they could. We did not have any interference from the French Air Force, any NATO aircraft was fair game at that time; so this kept us occupied until the South of France came up.

It was now time for the second refuelling bracket. We changed formation to a wide loose Vic and the Javelins huddled behind the lead tanker. The first Javelin engaged, tucked itself in and started refuelling. A couple of minutes later it had topped up with 6,500lbs.of fuel. His No 2 followed suit and the other pair were done by our other tanker. We now had to offload surplus fuel from our No 1 to refuel the others to Cyprus.

We moved in behind the tanker and we were cleared in. John filled his right hand with throttles and manoeuvred behind the drogue. The flying technique was to use the tanker as the sole reference; as long as that is right the probe will look after itself. He lined himself up with the port side of the bomb bay and by putting the top of the drogue on the visual bomb-aiming blister it gave him the right angle. About an inch on the throttles started bringing us in. The drogue was giving us a closing speed reference and he got it right at about five knots. The probe hit at one third out from the valve and the drogue immediately shimmied itself over and engaged the valves. He kept the power still going forward and climbing to keep the same picture of the aircraft and the roar of four Avons in front of us was getting louder as we closed in. I could see the drum rotating as it took up the hose and with a flash the green flow lights came on. The hose twitches and shudders before this point but when it is full of pressurised fuel it tightens and becomes more stable.

Inching back the throttles to hold position and keeping our eye on the drum, which would tell us if we were moving in or sliding out. It was not long in coming out as we put on weight; We was now putting in more power than the initial join up and the aircraft was getting more sluggish. It took another couple of minutes to receive what he could give us and then there was quick flash of the red lights so we backed off slowly and disconnected. During refuelling the co-pilot monitors the tanks to make sure the aircraft remains in C of G limits by switching tanks on and off. A quick scan of the fuel gauges, everything seemed to be in the right place.

The lead tanker left us for his refuel at Luqa and we gathered up our Javelins and proceeded for the next refuel south of Crete,

Danny42C
2nd Mar 2016, 01:19
Fareastdriver (your #8264),

Wow ! I'd always thought of you as a rotary king, and revelled in your stories of the Chinese oilrigs. Now it seems you had a previous incarnation as a "Valiantdriver" as well ! The only thing I remember about them was being told (at Shawbury, I think) that when they went out of service the engines and electronics were stripped out, and the hulks (which had cost millions to build) went for scrap at only £75 apiece. Don't know if it's true.

Those were the days when we counted the turbine revs. I remember when the Derwents in the Meteor peaked at 10,700 and the Goblins in the Vampire at 9,500 (?), and we had a three-pointer clock to keep an eye on (just like the three-needle altimeter of evil memory). Then sanity returned, and they brought in the percentage gauges - but that was after my time.

Now Sod's Law dictates that, if a thing can go wrong, it will - and that must apply to Valiants as well. So chill our blood with tales of incidents that still wake you up screaming ! No slacking, now.

In pleasurable anticipation,

Danny.

Danny42C
2nd Mar 2016, 01:51
Jack, your,
...So that's what they're not called...:ok:.
I write my Posts for my own pleasure (and, I hope, for the entertainment of all PPRuNers), but the idea of writing a book does not appeal at all.

Did not Johnson say: "No one but a blockhead wrote for anything other than money" - and, as I believe, the market for war memoirs dried up a long time ago. There is, IMHO, no fortune to be made that way.

Cheers, Danny.

Fareastdriver
2nd Mar 2016, 10:07
Then sanity returned, and they brought in the percentage gauges

Not necessarily. It depends on what the customer wants.

The Puma (S330) had percentages for the engines but the Super Puma had a choice of percent or RPM. The ones I flew had RPM for the engines. Full power; around 24,000 as a ball park figure.

The Goblin was 10,500/710 for 15 minutes and a little birdie tells me the Meteor was 14,750/680.

Union Jack
2nd Mar 2016, 10:08
I write my Posts for my own pleasure (and, I hope, for the entertainment of all PPRuNers), but the idea of writing a book does not appeal at all. - Danny

Well said, Sir, and if I may be so bold as to quote Samuel Johnson back at you, "I should as soon think of contradicting a Bishop", before quoting Ben Jonson in respect of the undoubted pleasure and entertainment that you unfailingly do give to others, namely,

"While I confess thy writings to be such,
As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much.":ok:

Salaams

Jack

Fantome
2nd Mar 2016, 10:36
A worthy tribute . . . . a worthy sentiment.


( At the same time he 'measures not with words the immeasurable . . .nor sinks the string of thought into the fathomless.' (Anon) )

GlobalNav
2nd Mar 2016, 18:29
"He writes real good, too!"

by a nameless ex-USAF navigator

Danny42C
2nd Mar 2016, 22:52
Fareastdriver,

Little birdie and I seem to be in agreement on Meteor. Goblin figure seems a bit high (that whacking great centrifugal compressor), but can't be bothered to dig up PNs (Jever Steam Laundry ?)

Would have thought that the percentage clock would be more popular, but chacun à son goût , I suppose.
Danny,

PS: Jack, Fantome and GlobalNav...... Shucks ! - you're making me blush ! http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/disney/images/6/67/Bashful2.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/516?cb=20140105032340 (http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/disney/images/6/67/Bashful2.png/revision/latest?cb=20140105032340)
Bashful




Sorry I can't size it - but a better likeness than my old 1250 !......D.

Walter603
3rd Mar 2016, 07:53
Apologies for the delay in posting, fellow nostalgics. Frozen shoulder, facial surgery and one or two other minor health problems that bother nonagenarians have held me up for some days. Now I’m back in shape, so here goes.

Christmas 1942 passed, and eventually we received orders to go to Idku, an aerodrome about 30 miles east of Alexandria, in the delta of the Nile. Here we were inducted into 272 Squadron, Royal Air Force, at the beginning of January 1943. Training began in earnest, and we were quickly transformed into day Beaufighter crews. Our Radar Observers had to work hard to convert themselves into Navigators, in the true sense of the word. Flying was done by dead reckoning and map reading. No more assistance and "vectoring" from ground station radar.

The pilots had to familiarise themselves with desert warfare and with convoy escort procedures, because our prime role would be escorting large and small convoys up and down the Mediterranean, to besieged Malta, past Gibraltar, and back to Alexandria. Meanwhile, 603 (City of Edinburgh) Squadron arrived at Idku, from Malta, where it had been working hard to defend the island from the savage attacks of German and Italian Air Forces. The Squadron was converted from Spitfires to Beaufighters, and we were the new air crews. Soon, we flew off into the Desert, in close support of the Eighth Army now victoriously chasing Rommel westwards as hard as possible.

Jim, Walter and Len in Egypt
Not a crew - just pals

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7564-1/Jim_+Walter+and+Len.jpg

After operating from various “forward” bases on the fast chase westwards, we established ourselves at Misurata Marina, in Libya, about 100 miles east of Tripoli. Our Squadron's “tent city” sprang up on the eastern end of the airfield, which was little more than a flattened portion of desert, south of the Italian-built town of Misurata, on the Mediterranean coast, and birth-place in 1942 of Muanmar Gaddafi, later to become dictator of Libya. . Here we were to remain for the remainder of 1943 as a Coastal Command Squadron.

We were now in 201 Group of Coastal Command of the Royal Air Force. In the tradition built up from the inauguration of the Empire Air Training Scheme in April 1940, we had a wonderful mix of men from Britain, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Rhodesia etc, all seconded to the RAF for the duration, working together perfectly in the mutual desire to defeat the enemy axis. Our Commanding Officer, Hugh Chater, even came from South Africa!

We were kept very busy on convoy escorts, mainly to and from the besieged island of Malta. Troop ships and supply ships sailed backwards and forwards along the Mediterranean Sea, and were liable to air attack at any time from the German forward bases before they were finally driven from North Africa, and from German and Italian air forces in Italy, Sicily, and the outlying bases such as on Corsica and Sardinia.

Our escort duties were quite arduous, involving many hours flying low over the sea, to and from the convoys which had to be "pinpointed" and found quickly by skilful navigation over thousands of square miles of ocean. Once in position, we flew round and round, round and round, continually scanning the skies for attacking enemy aircraft, and keeping at a respectful distance from our seaborne charges.

Getting too close, in the estimation of the Royal Navy, even when we had been circling for several hours, was sure to invite a sharp barrage from the anti-aircraft guns of one or more escort ships. Mind you, we could always understand why the Navy gunners were so trigger-happy. Losses of shipping, from submarines and from air attacks on the Malta run totalled hundreds of thousands of tons in dozens of sunken ships.

Occasionally, we had a respite from the convoy duties, flying at wave-top height across the Mediterranean to keep below the enemy radar defences, and attacking shipping, airfields and supply dumps in Greece, Crete and the Dodecanese Islands.

These trips were also very arduous. It took about two-and-a-half hours to fly across the "Med" to the target. Attack usually took no more than about 3 or 4 minutes, then there was the return journey to be accomplished. One of the hazards was the fact that spray from the waves created a salt coating under the wings and fuselage, and aircraft had to be regularly cleaned to get rid of the corrosive substance. Another was the fact that it was very difficult to judge one's height over the sea. Two hundred feet and 20 feet looked very much alike in the featureless seascape.

It was necessary to set the altimeter meticulously before takeoff, and descending very, very carefully to the top of the waves, usually about 20 feet above the sea. At this height, flying the Beaufighter was still hard work, from the habit of the aircraft "hunting", that is, behaving like a ridden horse in rising up and down continuously, necessitating constant opposing pressure by the pilot on the control column to counteract the movements. This effect was called "longitudinal instability", and was partly cured by fitting dihedral tail planes to the aircraft. It was not unknown for pilots to strike the wave-tops - in fact we lost two in our Squadron from these dreadful accidents. The aircraft were gone in the blink of an eye!

Walter on his first camel ride the Sphinx.
The wallet was held to encourage the use of the camel!

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7566-1/Walter+on+camel.jpg

Brian 48nav
3rd Mar 2016, 09:32
Welcome back Walter! Blimey you looked so young, did your teachers know you'd bunked-off from school!

We had a nav' on 48, ( Hercs at Changi 67/8 ) who had been in Egypt at the same time, on Wellingtons based at Mersa Matruh. If he was off for a kip he had a wonderful expression, " I'm going for some Egyptian P T" - it always made me laugh.

Danny

I think you have already written your book - it is here on this best of threads. When you miss the occasional day posting it just doesn't seem quite right. Long may you keep it up.

John Eacott
3rd Mar 2016, 09:50
Welcome back Walter! Blimey you looked so young, did your teachers know you'd bunked-off from school!

We had a nav' on 48, ( Hercs at Changi 67/8 ) who had been in Egypt at the same time, on Wellingtons based at Mersa Matruh. If he was off for a kip he had a wonderful expression, " I'm going for some Egyptian P T" - it always made me laugh.

Dad was young: just 20 years old!

Egyptian PT was a common expression in the RN, along with 'studying the deckhead rivets'.

I'll try to co-ordinate with Dad for a series of photos that I have scanned from his contact prints (remember them?) which is all he has left of his time in the desert. Everything was lost when he finally got home, even his logbook :sad:

Walter603
3rd Mar 2016, 21:47
Thanks for your kind welcome back, Brian and Danny. "It's the smile in your eyes that makes me warm".
Yes, I remember using Egyptian PT to describe a quick snooze.
Son John did a good job on my images - thanks mate! Looking forward to posting some more.

Danny42C
4th Mar 2016, 00:09
Walter,

You seem to have been "in the wars !" - congratulations on your recovery, and welcome back ! Just a few points arising from your exciting story (if I may):
...Not a crew - just pals...
And fine figures of young men, too !
...Flying was done by dead reckoning and map reading. No more assistance and "vectoring" from ground station radar...
Same in India/Burma - join the club !
...Our Commanding Officer, Hugh Chater, even came from South Africa!...
In Burma, we had a Wing Commander Chater (OC, 168 Wing). Now from Peter C. Smith's "Vengance !":
...Hugh Seaton, a young Canadian [said]......."Our Group Commander, Group Captain Chater, RAF, seemed particularly partial to our rather small, rather wild contingent of Canadians... we called Group Captain Chater 'The War Lord of the Arakan' "...
This would be the Wing Commander Chater who, by a clever bit of legerdemain, fiddled the inventory in such a way that he had a Harvard for his personal use (which did not exist any more as far as the RAF was concerned). Nice work if you can get it ! (Luckily, we had no careers to worry about in those days - and just as well)....:=
...Occasionally, we had a respite from the convoy duties, flying at wave-top height across the Mediterranean to keep below the enemy radar defences, and attacking shipping, airfields and supply dumps in Greece, Crete and the Dodecanese Islands...
Not my idea of a respite ! (except in the sense of "A change is as good as a rest" ?)
...Walter on his first camel ride the Sphinx...
Now why does that old poem come back to me ? (you know, the one which ends: "...and the Sphinx's inscrutable smile ?)...:mad:

You appear to have a one-legged camel. Wasn't it rather unstable ?

It's said that there are no wild camels - and no tame ones either ! You take your life in your hands, or so I'm told, when you mount one. Never did so myself (they had plenty of camels in the NW Frontier of India) - nor elephants either.
...The wallet was held to encourage the use of the camel!...
Not a good idea to wave your wallet about in the Levant or any point East ! More than likely to encourage the use of a blunt instrument - you'd awake with a sore head but no wallet.

What was the thing on the side of the camel's face - a Tax Disc ?

Wonderful stories, Walter, just what we need here, More, please :ok:

Cheers, Danny.

PS: John,
...'Egyptian PT' was a common expression in the RN, along with 'studying the deckhead rivets'...
Both common in the RAF, too, I heard the second as "counting the deckhead rivets". In India we also had "charping" (derived fron "charpoy", the ubiquitous native bed).

Your Dad is an ornament to this Thread. Keep his nose to the grindstone ! Tragic about the logbook, though - it makes it hard to set out a time frame.

D.

DHfan
4th Mar 2016, 05:01
My Dad used to say "closely examining the inside of his eyelids". No idea if it was from the Army or just a "Dad-ism". National Service, not wartime.
With spectacular forward planning on the part of my grandparents, Dad was 18 in January '46.

FantomZorbin
4th Mar 2016, 07:58
Danny42C
Re: #8265

I seem to recollect that Sod's Law states that Murphy was an optimist!


... headset, chinagraph (ATC equivalent of 'hat, coat' etc)

Molemot
4th Mar 2016, 11:49
My Uncle Sid used to say he was "Just watching the barges go by..."
Now, sixty years later, I can look out of my window and do exactly that!!

Fantome
4th Mar 2016, 17:08
Uncle Sid may have been influenced by the old Ford motorcar ad . . . 'Watching all the Fords go by'. This clip is from 1956 but the slogan definitely predates that. Henry's PR men may well have come up with it back in the day's of another catchy little song that included 'get out and get under...'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UFJyRzRtNE

Another interesting thing about Henry was his extraordinary memory for the names of his employees. His biographer said he knew the first names of the first thousand men he employed . .. and their wives.

Danny42C
5th Mar 2016, 00:14
FantomZorbin (your #8278),
..."I seem to recollect that Sod's Law states that Murphy was an optimist!"...
For the sake of interest, I Googled up "Sod's Law" - and was inundated with replies ! It would seem that everone and his dog has his own interpretation of that infamous duo (Sod and Murphy). A clear case of "Quot homines, tot sententiae", if ever there was one.

IMHO, Murphy's Law is really just a particular application of Sod's, in that it states that if it is possible to assemble two components the wrong way round, the someone will certainly do so (the classic case being aileron cables, with the result that you push to the left - and the right wing goes down !). The subsequent flight tends to be "nasty, short, poor and brutish !" (to echo a phrase). The best known example of Sod's law in action is that your dropped buttered toast always falls marmalade side down on the carpet (but no human input is involved).

Now we have started the hare of all hares running, I fear (for what PPRuNer would fail to rise to this bait ?)

"Headset - Chinagraph" ? Forgive me - I did not realise that you and I were fellow sufferers as intrepid (?) aviators "put out to grass", as it were, in ATC when our glory days (such as they were) were over (flying pay, too !)...:(

Sod rules !

Danny.

Danny42C
5th Mar 2016, 00:48
Fareastdriver (my #8271),

A fair cop, Guv ! (looked up JSL [what a treasure that site is !] and lifted) :
Page 30 50. Engine Limitations-Goblin 3
Para. 50
A.L.3
Power Rating......Time limit.......R.P.M...........J.p.t. °C

Take-off............†15 mins.......10,750*.........710
Intermediate......†20 mins.......10,350...........660
Max. Continuous Unrestricted...10,250...........650
Ground Idling.....Unrestricted...3,000±200.....600

Operation at speeds between 8,150 and 8,650 r.p.m. and at 10,500 r.p.m must be kept to an absolute minimum.

Above 25,000 feet maximum r.p.m. must not exceed 10,350.
NOTE: *In R.A.F. use, max. r.p.m. are restricted to 10,650.
†In R.N. use, these time limits are 5 mins. and 30 mins. respectively.
Dunce's cap on, standing in corner......,

Danny.

Danny42C
5th Mar 2016, 00:57
Fantome and Molemot,

Also well remembered;

"....Standing on the corner, watching all the girls go by...."

Memories, memories !

Danny.

andytug
5th Mar 2016, 08:19
FantomZorbin (your #8278),

For the sake of interest, I Googled up "Sod's Law" - and was inundated with replies ! It would seem that everone and his dog has his own interpretation of that infamous duo (Sod and Murphy). A clear case of "Quot homines, tot sententiae", if ever there was one.

IMHO, Murphy's Law is really just a particular application of Sod's, in that it states that if it is possible to assemble two components the wrong way round, the someone will certainly do so (the classic case being aileron cables, with the result that you push to the left - and the right wing goes down !). The subsequent flight tends to be "nasty, short, poor and brutish !" (to echo a phrase). The best known example of Sod's law in action is that your dropped buttered toast always falls marmalade side down on the carpet (but no human input is involved).

Now we have started the hare of all hares running, I fear (for what PPRuNer would fail to rise to this bait ?)



Which ultimately leads to ideas like this....
http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Murphy's_law_application_for_antigravitatory_cats

Fantome
5th Mar 2016, 11:16
Murphy drops some buttered toast on the kitchen floor and it lands butter-side-up.

He looks down in astonishment, for he knows that it's a law of nature of the
universe that buttered toast always falls butter-down.

So he rushes round to the presbytery to fetch Father Flanagan.

He tells the priest that a miracle has occurred in his kitchen.

But he won't say what it is, so he asks Fr. Flanagan to come and see it with his own eyes.
"Well," says the priest, "it's pretty obvious. Someone has dropped some buttered toast on the floor and then, for some reason, they flipped it over so that the butter was on top."

"No, Father, I dropped it and it landed like that!" exclaimed Murphy

"Oh my Lord," says Fr. Flanagan, "dropped toast never falls with the butter side up. It's a miracle."

"Wait... it's not for me to say it's a miracle. I'll have to report this matter to the Bishop and he'll have to deal with it. He'll send some people round to interview you, take photos, etc."

A thorough investigation was conducted, not only by the archdiocese but by scientists sent over from the Curia in Rome . No expense spared.

There is great excitement in the town as everyone knows that a miracle will bring in much need tourism revenue.

Then, after eight long weeks and with great fanfare, the Bishop announces the final ruling.

"It is certain that some kind of an extraordinary event took place in Murphy's kitchen, quite outside the natural laws of the universe. Yet the Holy See must be very cautious before ruling a miracle. All other explanations must be ruled out."

"Unfortunately, in this case, it has been declared 'No Miracle' because they think that Murphy may have buttered the toast on the wrong side!"

Flash2001
5th Mar 2016, 13:04
In my day there was Finagle's Law.

"The converse of a welcome probability invariably occurs at such a time as to achieve maximum frustration of the aim."

The example normally given was the appearance of a few cars from one direction so as to prevent you from using the only gap in an otherwise continuous flow from the other when attempting to turn into cross traffic. This little group of vehicles was known as Finagle's cluster.

After an excellent landing etc...

Fareastdriver
5th Mar 2016, 19:25
They also travel at fifteen miles per hour.

Danny42C
5th Mar 2016, 19:33
Fantome,
...Unfortunately, in this case, it has been declared 'No Miracle' because they think that Murphy may have buttered the toast on the wrong side!...
Or has buttered both sides ?

Danny.

Danny42C
5th Mar 2016, 21:08
Flash2001,

As when the phone rings just as...........:uhoh:

topgas
5th Mar 2016, 22:03
Wikipedia seems to confirm what I have always believed, that Murphy's Law was named after a Major Murphy https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_A._Murphy,_Jr.
It was something to do with pressure sensors in the harness of a rocket sled test, to record the forces experienced by the test "volunteer". It was possible to install them on either the inside or outside of the harness, so the inevitable happened, rocket sled and volunteer fired, but no results recorded.

Walter603
6th Mar 2016, 06:52
Danny,
This will remind you:

The Sexual life of the camel,
Is stranger than anyone thinks.
This weird and mysterious animal,
Has designs on the hole of the sphinx.
But the hole of the sphinx is covered,
By the shifting sands of the Nile,
Which accounts for the face of the camel
And the sphinx's inscrutable smile.

Walter603
6th Mar 2016, 07:14
Danny,

I reckon that must be the same S.African W/Cdr Chater that we had on 603. Another coincidence in our similar RAF careers?

Fareastdriver
6th Mar 2016, 10:17
the sphinx's inscrutable smile.

Didn't used to be like that. It was quite serious until the Moors conquered Egypt. Some sheik or other decided that the Sphinx was 'unislamic' so they bombarded it with cannon.

Today's bit of useless information.

Stanwell
6th Mar 2016, 11:11
Another story goes...
We can thank a dude by the name of Bonaparte for that, however the nose was reportedly missing before he was even born. :*

OffshoreSLF
6th Mar 2016, 13:49
Since we've gone off on a camel/sphinx tangent, who remembers :-


When the angle of the dangle is at right angles to the . . . . . .

Danny42C
6th Mar 2016, 16:41
Before we go.....

Walter,

...which accounts for the hump on the camel... (in my version),

Danny.

PS: What about two-humped camels (dromedary ?) - the triumph of hope over experience ?

MarcK
6th Mar 2016, 17:32
The camel has a single hump;
The dromedary , two;
Or else the other way around.
I'm never sure. Are you?

Ogden Nash

Danny42C
6th Mar 2016, 17:59
topgas (your #8240),

Thanks for the link ! But it says:
...Edward Aloysius Murphy, Jr. (January 11, 1918 – July 17, 1990[1]) was an American aerospace engineer[ who worked on safety-critical systems. He is best known for his namesake Murphy's law, which is said to state, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong."...
It seems that this has subsequently become confused. What is "said to state" (to my mind) is now the general definition of Sod's Law.

But as Wiki says:
...was an American aerospace engineer who worked on safety-critical systems...
Clearly what he had in mind was a case of what I said "Murphy's Law" to be.

Pedants rule - OK ? (initialling mine).

Danny.

Walter603
7th Mar 2016, 05:42
Here you are, mates - straight from Wikipedia
Camel (disambiguation) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel_%28disambiguation%29).
Camel
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/43/07._Camel_Profile%2C_near_Silverton%2C_NSW%2C_07.07.2007.jpg/240px-07._Camel_Profile%2C_near_Silverton%2C_NSW%2C_07.07.2007.jpg (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:07._Camel_Profile,_near_Silverton,_NSW,_07.07.2007.jpg)

Dromedary (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dromedary),
Camelus dromedarius
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/82/2011_Trampeltier_1528.JPG/240px-2011_Trampeltier_1528.JPG (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:2011_Trampeltier_1528.JPG) Bactrian camel (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bactrian_camel), Camelus bactrianus Scientific classification (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxonomy_%28biology%29)

A camel is an even-toed ungulate (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Even-toed_ungulate) within the genus Camelus, bearing distinctive fatty deposits known as "humps" on its back. The two surviving species of camel are the dromedary (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dromedary), or one-humped camel (C. dromedarius), which inhabits the Middle East (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_East) and the Horn of Africa (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horn_of_Africa); and the bactrian (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bactrian_camel), or two-humped camel (C. bactrianus), which inhabits Central Asia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Central_Asia). Both species have been domesticated; they provide milk (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel_milk), meat, hair (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel_hair) for textiles or goods such as felted pouches, and are working animals (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Working_animal) with tasks ranging from human transport to bearing loads.

The term "camel" is derived via Latin (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Latin) and Greek (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Greek) (camelus and κάμηλος kamēlos respectively) from Hebrew (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hebrew_language) or Phoenician (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phoenician_language) gāmāl.[3] (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel#cite_note-3)[4] (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel#cite_note-4)
"Camel" is also used more broadly to describe any of the six camel-like mammals in the family Camelidae (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camelid): the two true camels and the four New World camelids: the llama (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Llama), alpaca (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpaca), guanaco (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guanaco), and vicuña (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vicu%C3%B1a) of South America.[5] (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel#cite_note-wordnik-5)[6] (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel#cite_note-bornstein10-6)

Walter603
7th Mar 2016, 05:56
Danny,
This adds more point to the "inscrutable smile!"

The sexual life of the camel is stranger than anyone thinks,
At the height of the mating season he tries to bugger the sphinx.
But the sphinx's posterior orifice is clogged by the sands of the Nile,
Which accounts for the hump on the camel and the sphinx's inscrutable smile.

Danny42C
7th Mar 2016, 19:00
Walter (your #8300),

Strewth ! (had an old headmaster looked just like the camel. Dromedary reminds me of an Indian Army Cavalry saddle).

Nice pics for all that !

Danny.

Fareastdriver
7th Mar 2016, 19:50
A good place to see camels is Alice Springs in Australia. The early diggers imported them for their treks across various deserts and they went feral.

Today's bit of useless information.

GlobalNav
7th Mar 2016, 20:08
I've heard some refer to a camel as a "horse designed by a committee."

But I suppose after a long trek in the desert, one might appreciate the camel more than that, perhaps not with the affection that one can have for the horse/

binbrook
8th Mar 2016, 11:11
Horse probably tastes better but I've never eaten camel.

Fareastdriver
8th Mar 2016, 14:31
John Burgess; whom I believe is a diplomat.

It's definitely not a stranger to the diet of the Gulf Arabs.

They may not eat it every day or even every week, but they eat it. It's found in most of the larger supermarkets and is frequently a festive food.

It tastes mostly like beef. Younger camel is tastier and more tender. I find old camel somehow picks up a taste of kerosene!

Written 28 Aug 2015

Smeagol
8th Mar 2016, 15:21
Gents

If I may contribute to this slight digression regarding the flavour of camel.

I have eaten it, though it was probably 15 years ago, and memory seems to indicate that it was lighter in colour than beef, probably nearer to veal and similar in taste. But memory is a strange thing and I could be 'misremembering' :confused:

GlobalNav
8th Mar 2016, 15:27
Gents

If I may contribute to this slight digression regarding the flavour of camel.

I have eaten it, though it was probably 15 years ago, and memory seems to indicate that it was lighter in colour than beef, probably nearer to veal and similar in taste. But memory is a strange thing and I could be 'misremembering' :confused:

But, we are on the edge of our seats, was it Bactrian or Dromedary? I can hear the waiter now, "Sir, will that be one hump or two?"

Danny42C
8th Mar 2016, 17:21
andytug (your #8284),

....Which ultimately leads to ideas like this....
....Murphy's law application - Uncyclopedia - Wikia (http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Murphy's_law_application)
_for_antigravitatory_cats...


Are these the cats you had in mind ?

Danny.
lying Cats (https://www.reddit.com/r/flyingcats).

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ7XxmERXhYnu-MxoKANbr9E29sq2W3o4FeavykMBugEI7X2SE_ (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FzGTjZ.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.reddit.com%2Fr%2Fflyingcats&docid=l3Zgctrpj2KjjM&tbnid=z4-UcXaRXPJwnM%3A&w=539&h=312&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIAg&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTPYM_EHrB1EeXaZVNS6e7nSLL_HyopXJ3aESn_Wbu F1YOGbCdI0jjXWLE (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.whoa.in%2Fdownload%2Frobotic-hd-wallpaper-for-desktop11&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.whoa.in%2Fgallery%2Frobotic-hd-wallpaper-for-desktop11&docid=mmrmP0WkJmoemM&tbnid=iDvYlfMQU-XxWM%3A&w=1920&h=1080&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIAygB&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQcMML4ERULGozsemI0FiPbUfVCfbJ0hls6h2QwMtI Xyj06tePgHQQUnrA (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fflyingcatwebdesign.com%2Fwp-content%2Fgallery%2Fflying-cats%2Fcute-flying-kitten-cat-dubstep.png&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fflyingcatwebdesign.com%2F&docid=NUIhYC4ePNMH7M&tbnid=8uhl1FRbXKeewM%3A&w=480&h=274&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIBCgC&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT00DHoL2T4MlzgWNrjbjLTYsqtcDCBcFnOb8Epjaf F0UhobiW-t0IpXow (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2F3oem-M2tQU4%2Fmaxresdefault.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D3oem-M2tQU4&docid=NPzokw4R57w0wM&tbnid=Yliwmltwu20z3M%3A&w=1920&h=1080&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIBSgD&iact=c&ictx=1)

idle bystander
8th Mar 2016, 18:30
Thanks for the link ! But it says:
Quote:
...Edward Aloysius Murphy, Jr. (January 11, 1918 – July 17, 1990[1]) was an American aerospace engineer[ who worked on safety-critical systems. He is best known for his namesake Murphy's law, which is said to state, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong."...
It seems that this has subsequently become confused. What is "said to state" (to my mind) is now the general definition of Sod's Law.

Sorry to correct a very esteemed contributor, but this is a simplification of a very complex issue. Murphy's Law is, as summarised "If it can go wrong, it will ..."

Sod's corollary states "When it goes wrong, it will be when the adverse effects are maximised"

These things should not be confused!

Warmtoast
8th Mar 2016, 20:08
With all the talk about camels, my only service contact with them was in El Adem and Aden and not particularly close-up. However a few years back I read a fascinating book, "Tracks" by Robyn Davidson, who walked a train of camels 1,700-miles across the Australian out-back.
Apparently the camels went a bit do-lally when the reached the Indian ocean, not knowing what to do with such a large expanse of water!
Pictures taken on her trek below:

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Image%202a_zpsbxigzxbl.jpg
"Aaaaaaah"

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Image3_zpsar4p8hsn.jpg
"Ooooooh"

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Image4_zpsymny82cr.jpg
"The things I have to do for the money they pay me !"

Danny42C
8th Mar 2016, 21:36
GlobalNav (your #8308),
...Quote:
Originally Posted by Smeagol
Gents
...If I may contribute to this slight digression regarding the flavour of camel...
What goes in one end of a camel comes out at the other. Sun-dried, and mixed with herbs, it was rumoured to be the filling of the "bidi", the ubiqitous Indian "roll your own" cigarette.

Don't know if it's true - but it certainly smelt like it !

Danny.

G-CPTN
9th Mar 2016, 02:15
GlobalNav (your #8308),

What goes in one end of a camel comes out at the other. Sun-dried, and mixed with herbs, it was rumoured to be the filling of the "bidi", the ubiqitous Indian "roll your own" cigarette.

Don't know if it's true - but it certainly smelt like it !

Danny.

Well, there is (or was) a brand of cigarettes called Camel.

Ali Qadoo
9th Mar 2016, 03:16
Talking of camels, my late father (will have to locate the correct box in the loft for his logbook but I believe he was on Arnold Course 42A, 2 ahead of Danny) taught me a rude ditty about a 'make up an advertising slogan and win a car' competition run by Kensitas cigarettes in the 1930s - more details here: 1932 Austin 12/6 Harley De-Luxe saloon car (http://www.oldclassiccar.co.uk/austintwelvesix.htm) .
In those days, the Kensitas packets showed a butler, named Jenkins, offering his Woosterish master his gaspers with the strapline, "Your Kensitas, sir."
According to pa, the entry that should've won, but probably didn't (for obvious reasons) went like this...

"Kensitas, my heart's delight,
Made of sand and camel ****e,
Private process*, bloody farce,
And you can stick your cars up Jenkin's arse."

Wordsworth, eat your heart out!



* Kensitas also boasted that their cigarettes benefited from their secret 'Private Process'.

Fantome
9th Mar 2016, 05:36
http://file.vintageadbrowser.com/l-k4czv48f25t8k6.jpg (http://www.vintageadbrowser.com/tobacco-ads-1980s/6)


Widely known for years as the one cigarette that
depicted the factory on the packet.

(The late lamented Captain Brian Gillespie of East-West
Airlines smoked the unfiltered Camel most of his
truncated life. RIP old son)

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 06:16
Fantome,

"Black Cats" (who remembers them ?) killed my Dad, too.

Danny.

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 06:36
Warmtoast (your #8311),

The charming pics invite Captions. How about:

1. All together now, "Aaaaaaah"

2. "Ooooooh"

3. "The things I have to do for the money they pay me !"

Danny.

Stanwell
9th Mar 2016, 06:36
Craven A cork tipped?
Killed my old man as well.

BEagle
9th Mar 2016, 06:42
Surely the famous wartime brand was 'Cape to Cairo':

http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a341/nw969/CtoC_zpslbgwmlud.jpg (http://s14.photobucket.com/user/nw969/media/CtoC_zpslbgwmlud.jpg.html)

Otherwise known as 'Camel to Consumer'.....:(

ancientaviator62
9th Mar 2016, 07:25
http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m19/ancientaviator62/INDIA%20XMAS0002_zpsqvf4uf6q.jpg (http://s100.photobucket.com/user/ancientaviator62/media/INDIA%20XMAS0002_zpsqvf4uf6q.jpg.html)

Danny,
my mother in law died two years ago (aged 105 !) and only now are we sorting through the paperwork. We came across the above which may bring back memories for you. It is one side of a an airmail letter. If you are interested then I will put up the other side.
There was also a picture of a sergeant pilot in the lot. My wife seems to recall that he was a cousin and drowned whilst on leave shortly after getting his wings.

pulse1
9th Mar 2016, 07:28
1932 Austin 12/6 Harley De-Luxe saloon car

I learnt to drive in one of those in 1956. I never liked Kensitas cigarettes though.

Molemot
9th Mar 2016, 10:11
My father died at 57, leaving a huge collection of "Golden Virginia" tobacco tins, each carefully labelled with the contents; various screws, nuts, bolts, rivets, transistors, assorted electronic and mechanical oddments. Of course, the original contents of the tins were what did for him; the tinned legacy lives on, and has been, and continues to be, remarkably useful!!

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 10:38
idle bystander (your #8309),
...Through the Looking-Glass - Wikiquote
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Through_the_Looking-Glass
The Red Queen shook her head, "You may call it nonsense if you like," she said, .... Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean...'
My sentiments exactly !

Nevertheless I accept your correction, and am suitably chastened. :rolleyes:

Cheers, Danny.

andytug
9th Mar 2016, 10:50
andytug (your #8284),


Are these the cats you had in mind ?

Danny.
lying Cats (https://www.reddit.com/r/flyingcats).

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ7XxmERXhYnu-MxoKANbr9E29sq2W3o4FeavykMBugEI7X2SE_ (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FzGTjZ.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.reddit.com%2Fr%2Fflyingcats&docid=l3Zgctrpj2KjjM&tbnid=z4-UcXaRXPJwnM%3A&w=539&h=312&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIAg&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTPYM_EHrB1EeXaZVNS6e7nSLL_HyopXJ3aESn_Wbu F1YOGbCdI0jjXWLE (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.whoa.in%2Fdownload%2Frobotic-hd-wallpaper-for-desktop11&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.whoa.in%2Fgallery%2Frobotic-hd-wallpaper-for-desktop11&docid=mmrmP0WkJmoemM&tbnid=iDvYlfMQU-XxWM%3A&w=1920&h=1080&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIAygB&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQcMML4ERULGozsemI0FiPbUfVCfbJ0hls6h2QwMtI Xyj06tePgHQQUnrA (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fflyingcatwebdesign.com%2Fwp-content%2Fgallery%2Fflying-cats%2Fcute-flying-kitten-cat-dubstep.png&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fflyingcatwebdesign.com%2F&docid=NUIhYC4ePNMH7M&tbnid=8uhl1FRbXKeewM%3A&w=480&h=274&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIBCgC&iact=c&ictx=1)
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT00DHoL2T4MlzgWNrjbjLTYsqtcDCBcFnOb8Epjaf F0UhobiW-t0IpXow (https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2F3oem-M2tQU4%2Fmaxresdefault.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D3oem-M2tQU4&docid=NPzokw4R57w0wM&tbnid=Yliwmltwu20z3M%3A&w=1920&h=1080&ved=0ahUKEwjHuqCu0rHLAhWIQZoKHaX7C4wQxiAIBSgD&iact=c&ictx=1)




Something like that!

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 11:01
ancient aviator62 (your #8319),

It certainly takes me back. When you go up that gangway you are allowed to take only what you can personally carry on one trip - there's no going back ! My comfortable life as a Sahib had come to a full stop. When you've had that experience, you appreciate the full force of:

"....As up to the gangway we crawl...."

Of course I would like to see the other side of the air mail letter (so long as there's nothing personal on it). But where is the embossed 4-anna stamp on it ? - I assume it's coming from India. Do we know who the artist is ? It's a bit in the style of "Fougasse".

Hard luck on the Sgt-Pilot, but that's how the mop flops. :(

Ta, Danny.

ancientaviator62
9th Mar 2016, 14:09
http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m19/ancientaviator62/INDIA%20LETTER%20SIDE%2020002_zpsrtzcbyld.jpg (http://s100.photobucket.com/user/ancientaviator62/media/INDIA%20LETTER%20SIDE%2020002_zpsrtzcbyld.jpg.html)

Danny,
as you can see no stamp needed. Obviously no expense spared for the 'Forgotten Army' at Xmas.

ancientaviator62
9th Mar 2016, 14:38
Danny,
the address at the top right which my scanner has truncated reads :
PID No 1
RAF India Command.
Does anyone know what PID stands for ?

Warmtoast
9th Mar 2016, 15:42
Danny

Warmtoast (your #8311),

The charming pics invite Captions. How about:
1. All together now, "Aaaaaaah"
2. "Ooooooh"
3. "The things I have to do for the money they pay me !"
Danny.



Thanks for the suggestions - done!

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 16:39
ancientaviator62,

Thank you for the reverse side of your "Christmas Card". Now this is really interesting. I don't recall any "P I D", at a guess would say 'Postal (India) Depot'- but it might've meant something quite different.

The 'Air Letters' I remember were pre-paid: UK-India at 4d and India-UK at 4-anna (the exact equivalent) You bought them from the RAF Postal Service, they in turn would buy them from the nearest Post Office.
...as you can see no stamp needed. Obviously no expense spared for the 'Forgotten Army' at Xmas...
It was spared for us ! Never heard of 'em ! (but then I was "up the Jungle" in Assam - perhaps in Delhi, Calcutta or Bombay - all right for some !)

Note the Censor's stamp. I have mentioned this distasteful task in one of my last Posts from India, but cannot find it now (and "Search this Thread" as much use as chocolate teapot).

Danny.

Union Jack
9th Mar 2016, 18:19
Note the Censor's stamp. I have mentioned this distasteful task in one of my last Posts from India, but cannot find it now (and "Search this Thread" as much use as chocolate teapot).

You rang, Sir? Try post no 3237 on Page 162 by my choice of numbering.:ok:

Jack

Danny42C
9th Mar 2016, 18:45
Jack,

Thank you ! Thank God we've got the Navy ! ancient aviator, here is the excerpt:
...On the way, I had plenty of time to think back over the past three years. I have never mentioned another more distasteful wartime duty that all officers had to perform on units abroad. It's not often mentioned in people's memoirs - I suppose they don't like to be reminded about it. This was the censoring of your men's letters home. Who censored my letters - quis custodiet ? No idea (of course this all stopped after VJ Day).

Our chaps knew it had to be done (for reasons of security) and kept their letters bland, but even so we thought it a nasty thing to have to do. Particularly sad were the replies from lads who had obviously had a "Dear John", or who'd had family deaths, perhaps in the V1 & V2 blitzes.

The only things I ever had to "blue-pencil" were bits of technical detail of our equipment and what we were doing. And of course there was an unspoken "seal of confession" laid upon us. This was universally upheld, I never heard a whisper about any airman's letter from another officer in my entire time - and certainly never breathed a word about mine. And, come to think of it, that may account for the "amnesia" about the whole business now. We've simply airbrushed it right out of memory...

Danny.

DHfan
10th Mar 2016, 00:10
Re "as much use as a chocolate teapot".

Somebody has now invented one that actually works - for a finite period of time until it melts - and of course you could always scoff one anyway.

Personally I favour "as much use as an inflatable dartboard".

I take no credit but really wish I'd thought of it

Danny42C
10th Mar 2016, 00:23
DHfan,

All right, a chocolate fireguard !,

Danny.

ancientaviator62
10th Mar 2016, 08:23
Danny,
the letter was marked 'Xmas 1944'. Where were you spending Xmas that year ?

pettinger93
10th Mar 2016, 16:08
The Christmas card from the war zone must have been particularly emotional to receive. My father Harold Pettinger ( mentioned earlier in the thread) was away from the UK for 4 and half years, and later in the war was involved in supplying the Chindits in the Burmese jungle by air . When clearing his effects after his death in 2014 we came across the Christmas card he sent to his parents from the Burmese jungle ( goodness knows how). It was moving for us to read it, so havn't ANY idea how his parents must have felt about it. Could post it here if I knew how to do it!

Danny42C
10th Mar 2016, 21:25
ancientaviator62,

Kicking my heels in RAF Yelahanka (Bangalore). I'd got the years mixed up, it was '43 that I was in Assam. No matter, I can't remember Christmas being celebrated at all much; it was just another working day as far as most people were concerned.

I was out of a job in Yelahanka, having been posted down there the whole length of India from 8 (IAF) Sqn at Samungli on the Afghan border - to convert Mosquito pilots onto the Vengeance !

This daft idea had been thought up after the Mossies started falling apart (sometimes in the air !) and it looked as if the (recently discarded) Vengeance would have to be brought back into service as a stopgap. Luckily, DH had found a better brand of Seccotine in the nick of time and the Mosquito was reprieved.

Still never saw any sort of FreePost.

Danny.

Walter603
11th Mar 2016, 00:44
Daily living conditions were hazardous too, in the hot, dusty North African desert. We became very used to living in our tented accommodation, but the regular dust storms, that lasted for three days at a time, were extremely trying.

The Messes, in which we gathered for our meals and for relaxation when off duty, were large marquees. Dust and sand were everywhere. A mug of tea invariably held a sediment of sand, up to a quarter of an inch deep (about 6mm). Sand was in the bread, along with the inevitable flour weevils, up to 10 or 12 in every slice, and each creating its own distinctive purple stain around it.

Our cooks made our meals as varied as they were able, with the limited range and quantity of rations received, but we seemed to exist mainly on "Maconachies", a tinned stew of meat and vegetables that was very nourishing, and very monotonous! This was relieved by bully beef, which I liked. We also had plenty of hard tack, that is, large hard biscuits suitable for any meal. Occasionally, we were able to obtain small, fresh eggs from the Arabs, at exorbitant prices, or bartered in exchange for sugar, over which the Arabs became very excited.

Walter603
11th Mar 2016, 03:06
Here are some of the pics taken 75 years ago in Libya by Reuben (Reub) Giles, DFC, a great friend who was the only one I knew with a camera. These show our Mess tent being erected on arrival from Egypt, and the bar.

The photos are not the best in quality, they are scans of contact prints but still hold much interest for me as mementos of those exciting days. I will use more as appropriate with the posts.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7576-2/Desert+photo+52.jpeg

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7579-2/Desert+photo+53.jpeg

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7585-2/Desert+photo+57.jpeg

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7588-2/Desert+photo+59.jpeg

Sergeants and other ranks erecting the mess tents and then we enjoyed the beer. We had 1 litre of beer per person per week, the beer came 100 miles from Tripoli.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7582-2/Desert+photo+54.jpeg

Barber service 3 times weekly. Short back and sides optional!

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7591-2/Desert+photo+63.jpeg

I wasn't keen on haircuts in those days, I'm the one on the right and even corporals with mallets couldn't frighten me!

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7594-2/Desert+photo+80.jpeg

Danny42C
11th Mar 2016, 05:49
Walter (your #8336),

You were in the wrong continent, mate ! (and I was on the wrong Thread !)
At Khumbirgram, we'd taken over the tea planter's bungalow as our Mess. Our tables were graced with snowy white tablecloths with a pattern of squares. If you whacked down the "ship's biscuits" down hard on them, some of the livestock would be thrown out. If two or three landed in one square, bets could be laid on which "horse" would crawl to an edge first. The ones left in the "hard tack" didn't taste too bad, and it was extra protein after all.

I ate a lot of bully beef (was quite partial to the stuff - still am). For some reason, India had been supplied with enormous quantities of it, far more than we could eat. As it is anathema to the Hindu, I was told that a lot of the tins went into hardcore for concrete. Don't know if it's true.

Happy Days,

Danny.

PS: (your #8337),

Fine pics - and not a man with a BMI more than his age !

Danny.

ancientaviator62
11th Mar 2016, 06:59
Walter,
great pictures. When I was an 'erk' in the early sixties and later as NCO Aircrew we were still issued with the same cardboard KD. Almost certainly old war stock.

Octane
11th Mar 2016, 08:41
Walter, what a brilliant post. More please!

Danny42C
12th Mar 2016, 15:10
Walter,

Been studying the pics you put in: in the first one, far right, there is some thing which seems to have two 'ears' sitting in a sort of chair. Any idea ?,

What is the purpose of the rows of oil (?) drums ? Recognised a pile of our old friend the empty kerosene/petrol four-gallon can, which can be put to no end of uses.

There seem to be few workers and an awful lot of goofers. This lot need taking in hand !

As you say, UK issue khaki drill was rubbish. Get some decent stuff made up in the local bazaar, and throw the first lot away (together with your 'Bombay Bowler').

How did they manage to get the beer to travel 100 miles from Tripoli without the bottles exploding ? And what did it taste like ? (yes, I know, "there is no bad beer, but some is better than others").

Sharper eyes than mine will pick out other things, I'm sure.

Danny.

Danny42C
15th Mar 2016, 10:00
molemot (#8321),

Jam-jars are better - you can see what's in 'em - and the jam tasted nice, too !

Danny.

caiman27
15th Mar 2016, 12:49
Been studying the pics you put in: in the first one, far right, there is some thing which seems to have two 'ears' sitting in a sort of chair. Any idea ?

Looks like a large Amphora?

Stanwell
15th Mar 2016, 16:17
Well, yes it does.
But then I thought.. What could be its intended purpose?
Then the penny dropped.
Brewing hooch for the club, of course.
I mean, you can't waste all those potato peelings, et cetera, can you?

Danny42C
16th Mar 2016, 01:13
caiman27,

Brings to mind a very old chestnut:

"What does a Grecian Urn ?"......"About five quid a week".

(All right, I'm not staying long !)

Danny.

Danny42C
16th Mar 2016, 02:14
Stanwell,

Truth is stranger than fiction:

In India during the war (no shipping space for Gordon's etc), the demand was met by Carew's (some relation to 'Mad Carew' ?), who for Rs65 would supply a four-gallon blue pot amphora of their home brew. (And you got Rs4 back on the 'empty' !)

So, for net Rs61 (£4/12/0 equivalent then), a Mess got 4x6x32 tots # (at 'six-out') @ 4 annas a tot, totals Rs192, a clear profit of Rs131 (£8/3/9). As everybody drank the stuff (in a "Collins" or some other long drink, for it was poisonous neat) the Mess got rich quick. (multiply by 60 for today's prices). EDIT: (or 120 dahn-under).

# Chota Peg (single) :ok:, Burra Peg := (double).

Danny.

Geriaviator
17th Mar 2016, 11:23
My uncle served in the Western Desert and remembered the four-gallon petrol tins, not least because they leaked. One of his company's three-ton Bedford QLs went up in smoke when said leak trickled through the floor and onto the exhaust which was mounted amidships. He and his comrades considered the German pressed-steel container far superior and indeed the Jerry-Can is still around today.

Danny, your whisky measures recall my father's evening greeting on arriving from Poona airfield 70 years ago ... Burra-peg jeldi karo! Still useful today :)

Danny42C
17th Mar 2016, 13:58
Geriaviator,
...jeldi karo!...
For the benefit of the uninitiated: "Make (or 'do') quickly !"

Thanks for rescuing this our Thread from the Slough of Despond over the page,

Danny.

FantomZorbin
17th Mar 2016, 16:52
Chota Peg, Burra Peg


Now I understand what my godfather was on about all those years ago!
What a fantastic thread this is ... ! YLSNED as Danny would say!!

Danny42C
17th Mar 2016, 18:57
FantomZorbin,

Note karo (make, do), ao (come), jao (go), lao (bring or carry). All in daily use, and as Colonel John Masters # scathingly noted, we only learned the imperative case of all the verbs !

(# "Bhowani Junction", "Bugles and a Tiger").

That is all a Herrenvolk needs.

Danny.

ancientaviator62
18th Mar 2016, 09:37
Danny,
I never served in India (did a few trips there with the Herc) but I thought John Master's books gave a very full flavour of what it might have been like. Did they ?

John Eacott
18th Mar 2016, 10:12
This was linked in a post on another thread; delighted that the morbid outcome didn't apply to Dad :ok:

"When a Beau goes in" (http://www.johnderbyshire.com/Readings/beau.html)

When a Beau goes in,
Into the drink,
It makes you think,
Because, you see, they always sink
But nobody says "Poor lad"
Or goes about looking sad
Because, you see, it's war,
It's the unalterable law.

Although it's perfectly certain
The pilot's gone for a Burton
And the observer too
It's nothing to do with you
And if they both should go
To a land where falls no rain nor hail nor driven snow —
Here, there, or anywhere,
Do you suppose they care?

You shouldn't cry
Or say a prayer or sigh.
In the cold sea, in the dark
It isn't a lark
But it isn't Original Sin —
It's just a Beau going in.

Wander00
18th Mar 2016, 12:48
AA62, I am a great JM fan too. And cross referencing to Danny's Malabar story, there was a lady involved there too, mother of, when he grew up, a prominent General

Danny42C
18th Mar 2016, 13:56
John,

Thanks - I'll add it to my collection !

A good example of the black "gallows humour" which characterised the RAF in WWII. "You die if you worry, you die if you don't - so why worry at all ?". There was no point in grieving over a lost friend, you just had to carry on and ignore it:

"The dead, they will not rise,
So you'd better dry your eyes,
And come and marry me, Mary Jane !"

(Kipling ??)

Danny

Danny42C
18th Mar 2016, 14:09
ancientaviator, your:
...I never served in India (did a few trips there with the Herc) but I thought John Master's books gave a very full flavour of what it might have been like. Did they ?...
I left eighteen months before the end of the Raj, and have never gone back, but could see the traces of its past glory. Neither have I read any of Master's books - but a lot of Kipling. Offhand, I would say that Hollywood did a reasonably good job, bearing in mind that you simply cannot recreate how things were almost seventy years ago. I have to say that my only contact with John Master's work was in seeing the film "Bhowani Junction" a long time ago, but I remember it as a highly dramatic portrayal of the problems of the Anglo-Indian community in the last days of our imperial history there.

Basically, we used to say (in my time): "God made the Indian; the British 'Tommy' made the Anglo-Indian". From the start, the lot of the Anglo-Indian Community was not a happy one. The Indians generally despised them (as being outside the caste system, they could never fit in to Indian society). And we (who had brought them into being) wanted nothing to do with them. They were (socially) in a permanent "Nomansland". In practice: a British expatriate businessman might have a highly personable and efficient Anglo-Indian secretary - but he would never socialise with - still less marry her. I believe that in the Dutch and Portuguese colonial empires (I don't know about the French), things were different, there they were treated as equals.

Another class of "lesser breeds" did not shun them - our Other Ranks. The (almost exclusively Anglo-Indian) Railway Institutes, which were their social clubs in most larger towns, made them welcome. Many more marriages resulted; an Anglo-Indian girl with a British husband counted herself lucky indeed, she had escaped the "ghetto" and was now as British as he, and would go back to Britain with him.

Two organisations recruited them: Government reserved employment on the railways solely to them; and the Christian churches (predominently the RCs) welcomed them (together with Hindu "Untouchables") into their Faiths. As the original marriage always had the colonial father, they nearly all bear British or Portuguese surnames.

Things came to a head with Indepedence in '47. They had to decide what to do. As I've said in an old Post: "Their hearts said 'Britain', but their heads had to say 'India' ". And so it has been. In the Indian Air Force, they have done very well, many reaching star rank. I would not think that they would be likely to succeed to that extent in the more traditional Indian Army or Navy.

Wiki says: "One Indian novelist (Khushwant Singh) has remarked that while Kipling understood India, John Masters understood Indians [5]", in a very full biographical entry on Masters). I would put it another way round: you need a good working knowledge of India to fully appreciate Kipling. Masters himself was almost a parody of the ideal "Sahib", a gallant Ghurka officer, the last in a line of a British military family with roots in India and who would make their careers there.

They don't make 'em any more.

Danny.

ancientaviator62
18th Mar 2016, 14:39
Danny,
many thanks for your usual erudite reply. I thought the film 'Bhowani Junction' (Deborah Kerr ?) was like most of their ilk not totally true to the spirit of the book.

olympus
18th Mar 2016, 17:06
Haven't read any of John Masters' fiction but I have read (and strongly recommend) his two volumes of autobiography Bugles and a Tiger and The Road Past Mandalay. Gripping accounts of his military service (primarily in the Gurkhas then part of the Indian Army) and of the exploits of the Chindits.

His biography (John Master: A Regimented Life by John Clay) is also an interesting read but for some unaccountable reason is hard to find and quite expensive when you do.

Brian 48nav
18th Mar 2016, 21:51
I discovered John Master's novels when browsing in the station library at RAF Changi in 1968. I loved his evocation of India and particularly his love and high regard for the Gurkhas with whom he had the privilege to serve. Max Hastings book 'Warriors' has pen portraits of famous military men over the ages including Masters and Guy Gibson and a common thread seems to have been that many fearless fighting men were loathed by their colleagues.

In 'Road past Mandalay' Masters refers to his affair with another officer's wife, albeit separated, while attending staff college at Quetta. For advice in what to do he went to his general, who picked up his hat, touched the red band around it and said,' A good marriage is worth far more than this! '. That same sentiment was why I did not continue with what should have been ( certainly when I was at nav' School ) a promising career in the RAF - I would always have put my wife and her needs ahead of the service. Despite marrying at 21 & 18 respectively, we will celebrate our Golden next year. Mind you, to counter that, I have loads of RAF mates who enjoyed a full career to 55 and they will also be celebrating next year.

It wasn't until I read 'Warriors' that I found the identity of Masters' step-sons, one of whom made general and by coincidence had lived in my village a few years before we moved here. His, Masters, description of his time as a Chindit, where as a substantive Major he became Brigade Commander, is a highlight of his autobiographies.

ancientaviator62
19th Mar 2016, 08:32
JENKINS,
thank you for the correction.

Danny42C
20th Mar 2016, 15:23
Walter (your #8837),
...Here are some of the pics taken 75 years ago in Libya by Reuben (Reub) Giles DFC..
Brings to mind, in these days when we are exhorted to avoid baring our tender hides to the Mediterranean sun for fear of melanoma, that Dr. LeFanu (in the D.Tel.) once reflected that one his patients, who'd been "chasing Rommel all over the Libyan desert (stripped to the waist) for a couple of years " displayed no ill-effects in consequence even decades later.

The same is true of us in India/Burma. My theory is that we were not lying out on sun loungers all day, but constantly presenting different areas of skin to the sun as we moved about. What do you think?

Danny.

Warmtoast
21st Mar 2016, 21:00
Danny

Re Melanoma

After two years in Africa and two years in the Far East including a year in Gan where the standard work 'dress' was no shirt. I'm into my eighties with no signs (yet) of Melanoma.

After all that sun as below.


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/GAN/Water%20Tower%20View%202_zpsu0jjhc7a.jpg


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/RAF%20Negombo%20Katunayake/Fleetwind%201a_zpsic95lzcq.jpg


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/GAN/Image11a_zpsc644c832.jpg

Fantome
23rd Mar 2016, 10:07
considerate not to include then and now comparison pictures?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1279048835l/4629514.jpg



The author recounts crossing the Atlantic after ab initio in Canada. the ship the Aquitania ..' in a fearful storm rolling from beam to beam
. . . how does she stay in one piece with all that human cargo aboard? How come you're crossing the Atlantic at all?'

'Twenty-two years of age, committed to the elements like a cork or a bean or a fleck of spume. All those ancestors working for hundreds of years to send life down to you and it gets treated like its worth a penny a mile. The food they feed you is not even fit for rendering down, the soap they wash you with (I'll never forget its name) burns the skin off your hands. Every boy with his little bag of 'comforts' packed by women volunteers (working shoulder to shoulder to a background of martial music) from fourth-grade articles supplied at profit by patriotic manufacturers operating to specially reduced standards for the duration of the war. How much of that stuff you simply have to throw away.'

Needless to say a brilliant book . .. with much adulation throughout for his mighty Sunderland.

(personally and incidentally the apprentice experience of helping to convert a former RNZAF Sunderland for service with Ansett Flying Boat Services for the Lord Howe Island run as VH-BRF in 1964 supplied fond lasting impressions of the characters for whom those boats were in their blood. )

lasernigel
23rd Mar 2016, 11:39
Danny, re your lines of the poem you thought by Kipling.

"The dead, they will not rise,
So you'd better dry your eyes,
And come and marry me, Mary Jane !"

(Kipling ??)

The original has no quote of " And come and marry me, Mary Jane."

It comes from Soldier, Soldier.

SOLDIER, soldier come from the wars,
“Why don’t you march with my true love?”
“We’re fresh from off the ship an’ ’e’s, maybe, give the slip,
“An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an’ you’d better dry your eyes,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.

Danny42C
23rd Mar 2016, 12:47
lasernigel,

Well spotted, Sir ! - correction accepted. Maybe my subconscience had added a final couplet "off its own bat", as it were.

Danny.

lasernigel
23rd Mar 2016, 13:17
No problem Danny, never Sir though! Only made Sgt in the British Army and S/Sgt in the Omani Army.

Danny42C
23rd Mar 2016, 13:53
lasernigel,

In this, our old crewroom in cyberspace, we are all Sirs ! You are as much a "Sir" as the next man.

I was a Sgt, my Dad was a regular RQMS, his Dad was a regular Sgt (both in the King's [Liverpool] Regiment). Probably his Dad, too.

Danny.

.

Fantome
23rd Mar 2016, 19:27
Once worked in an RFDS hangar at Jandakot (W.A.) . .. there was Jock there too . .. ex RAF fitter . .. and corp . . .. whenever Jock called you sir he'd add . . . . THAT IS WITH A 'C'. ..

Stanwell
23rd Mar 2016, 23:00
I'm sure it's been mentioned on here before, but...

The gnarled old instructor, when introducing himself to the new intake of officer-cadets:
"I will address you as 'Sir' and you will address me as 'Sir'.
The difference is that, when you call me 'Sir', YOU will mean it!"

Warmtoast
23rd Mar 2016, 23:28
Fantome

re my 1958 photos in #8362 above:

considerate not to include then and now comparison pictures?

Well not really - a bit of thread drift but 18-months ago I was invited by the Shangri-La Hotel Group to visit their Villingili Resort and Spa at Villingili in the Maldives across the Addu Atoll lagoon from Gan to give a series of talks about my experiences at RAF Gan as it was being built in 1958.
A freebie visit to the Maldives after 56-years was not to be sneezed at, so in 2014 I duly went back to the Maldives and Gan together with my daughter and her husband to give my fully-illustrated PPT presentation. Audiences were history buffs (mainly wealthy Chinese), locals who worked at the resort and pupils from the local island school.

Anyway some photos taken during my visit. I'll be doing a fully illustrated piece here on pprune - new thread - shortly.


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/DASH%208_zps2f5rm5de.jpg
Arrival at Gan from Male

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/Gan%20Visit%20May%202014%20Via%20Chloe%201_1200x800_zps8pmik vqe.jpg
Being greeted by Shangri-La's PR lady who'd flown in from Dubai

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/IMG_2513_zpsooel6xrf.jpg
Paradise?
Gan is across the Atoll in the middle and right


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/Gan%20Visit%20May%202014%20Via%20Chloe%2051_1208x800_zps7rww qmxk.jpg
Sussing out Villingili


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/Gan%20Visit%20May%202014%20Via%20Chloe%2034_1200x800_zpsfeir auon.jpg
Visiting Mount Villingili with my son-in-law and daughter


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/Gan%20Visit%20May%202014%20Via%20Chloe%2038_1200x800_zpsj81o 3qtm.jpg
I'm no golfer, but had to try the Villingili Golf Course


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/IMG_2518_zpswm7xmgnp.jpg
Especially for Fantome - I'm on the right!


http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Gan%20-%20Visit%202014/Gan%20Visit%20May%202014%20Via%20Chloe%2017_1200x800_zpsqhmr pec4.jpg
Farewell drinks with the Resort's Manager


Regards
WT

ancientaviator62
24th Mar 2016, 11:22
Warmtoast,
brilliant. I bet your desk officer never dreamed of this when he sent you there. Oh the Laws of Unintended Consequences !

Danny42C
24th Mar 2016, 12:23
Warmtoast (your #8370),

What wonderful pictures - and what a wonderful trip ! Pity I couldn't have conned the Municipality of Cannanore (or Southern Army Command) into offering me a similar lecture tour (expenses paid, of course) twenty years ago ! (too late now !)

The Indian Government has now tardily exploited the tourist potential of the Laccadive Islands (about 150 miles west of us at 11°N), it seems (Wiki). Should do equally well (Wiki says the Maldives are in the 'Laccadive Sea'). And easier to get at with a short flight fom Bangalore, whereas the Maldives at 4°N are 450 miles further South.

When I was in Cannanore, we never had a look at the Laccadives. There was precious little to see, no airfield, and a pointless 300 mile trip over open water with a s/e aircraft was a risk a long way too far !
...Anyway some photos taken during my visit. I'll be doing a fully illustrated piece here on PPRuNe - new thread - shortly...
We'll hold you to that !

Danny.

PS: Is that an ATR 72 ?

Ian Burgess-Barber
24th Mar 2016, 12:39
Hi Danny

Not an ATR, (we see plenty of those in Ireland - Aer Lingus Regional aka Stobart Air use them), but I think we are looking at a Bombardier Dash 8 previously known as a D H C - 8

Ian BB

Danny42C
24th Mar 2016, 12:55
Ian BB,

Oh, dear - aircraft recognition never was my strong point ! (and they all look alike these days, just like the cars).

Danny.

MPN11
24th Mar 2016, 18:18
arghhh ... flying Stobart in Economy in July ... I'm dreading it!!

Only 1h30m, though, so I guess I'll survive.

Ian Burgess-Barber
24th Mar 2016, 18:44
I boarded the ATR back to SNN just after Stobart took over - as I came up the back steps I saw the new decal stuck on the Aer Lingus paint scheme - I said "Good Evening" to the female CC member - "What's all this about"? "Jaysus" says she, "You just wait - they'll have us driving the, (Irish expletive deleted pre watershed) trucks next"!

Ian BB

26er
25th Mar 2016, 10:13
I am reminded of a flight way back in 1988. My crew and I were positioning on an Aer Fungus Shorts 360 from Dublin to Shannon. Later we met up with the crew in the bar, three ladies, who told us that the following week their PR department had arranged a big function for the press and television to witness the first flight operated by an all female crew. However on this day the scheduled captain had reported "sick" so the standby captain, Ms X, took over. It cost them a round of drinks for us not to spill the beans !

Walter603
26th Mar 2016, 11:13
Danny, re your 8361. I think also that plenty of activity with the work we did also produced plenty of perspiration that acted to ward off sunburn. I'm remindedtoo the old cry by the seasoned vets to the rookie arrivals, "Get yer knees brown!"

Fareastdriver
26th Mar 2016, 11:29
In Changi Village in the 60s and 70s when you started to bargain for some item the first thing the local trader would do was look at your knees.

If there were no hairs on them it meant that you had been recently wearing long trousers so you must be a new, and therefore, inexperienced arrival.

Hairs on your knee indicated that you had been wearing shorts for some time so was likely to know the correct price to pay.

Walter603
26th Mar 2016, 11:44
Danny, 8341 again. The "thing" sitting in a crate on the right is a cookhouse item. Exactly what, I don't know - possibly a boiler or similar. The beer was very welcome. Quality not as good as we would like, but beer is beer and it was very light on quantity. Come leave time with a day or two in Alex or Cairo, we guzzled Tiger beer, marvellous for constipation!!
Those young lads standing around were all good workers. Don't be deceived by their temporary motionless attitudes. The petrol and oil barrels filled with sand served to anchor the Mess and cookhouse marquees. We had constant sand storms with very high winds, as I've mentioned earlier. All tented shelters needed heavy anchors.
I don't remember complaining about my khaki gear. I do recall a funny incident when we were in Sicily after its capture in July/August 1943. There was an Italian owner in the vineyard where we were billeted, always offering help. I handed him a pair of Khaki shorts and told him to ask his wife to take in the waist to 32 (inches). He came back next morning holding the shorts, saying loudly "trente-due, trente-due" and indicating that his wife pointed out she couldn't reduce them to 32 centimetres! Incidentally, I still possess a once-smart khaki desert jacket with a distinctive Desert appearance.

Fantome
26th Mar 2016, 11:58
Especially for Fantome - I'm on the right!

. .. . RIGHT! . .. . . almost flattering Mr Toast .. .

(bit like the old cheese Old Cheese .. . well matured . . )

Danny42C
26th Mar 2016, 13:10
Walter,

Of course ! How do you secure a tent in sand ? - silly me ! I'll take your word for it (many wouldn't) that the "studies in still life" were just itching to haul a guy rope, "lift that bar" or "tote that bale", as might be required of them.

Whatever else a M.O. had to contend with in India, constipation was not one of them ! (Curry can cover a multitude of culinary sins). It would have been nice to have had some beer (whatever the result), but it was not to be (in wartime, that is). Why hadn't canned beer been invented ?
...to take in the waist to 32 (inches)...
Them were the days !
...I still possess a once-smart khaki desert jacket with a distinctive Desert appearance...
Same as our "Bush Jacket", I would suppose. Right at the end of my time out there, our khaki was supplemented by the issue of dark green "Jungle" Drill and cellular cloth. Known as "Bottle Green Battledress" (or "Battle Green Bottledress"), it was popular, but I didn't buy any, as I was fully kitted up with Indian khaki drill, and that lasts forever, no matter what the dhobi-wallah does to it.

Danny.

Danny42C
26th Mar 2016, 13:13
Fareastdriver,

Another give away was to look at the headgear. If a Cap SD was clean and respectable (or, even worse, if the owner was still wearing a "Bombay Bowler"), then he was marked down as easy prey. On the other hand, if the Cap was faded, battered and more green than blue (the consequence of many cleanings in 100 Octane), or an Aussie "Bush Hat" worn in lieu, then the vendor could confidently expect to be knocked down to a price not much more than twice what the item was worth.

Danny.

Fantome
26th Mar 2016, 13:38
Danny . . for some strange reason that reminds me of a revolver exchange effected by the late Chris Braund (No 3 RAAF Western Desert) . Chris when posted to SW Pacific managed to do a swap with an American P-38 pilot . . . Chris's Smith & Wesson for the other's Colt 45. Chris kept that gat for many years. He carried it sometimes in his overnight bag as he undertook many different civilian flying jobs throughout Australia and the Islands. . . . usually accompanied too by a bottle of Inner Circle OP rum . . . usually supplied only to shareholders of CSR (Colonial Sugar Refinery). Chris, incidentally, was also notable for his engaging stammer. Many are the anecdotes relating to this supposed impediment. ("Morning Chris . " says some anonymous voice on the area frequency . .. "M . .. morning t.t.t.to you. H.h. how come you always kn.kn.know m.m.me?" . . . . . One classic was when Sydney Tower told him to " continue approach . . there are two dogs crossing the runway" . . .The phonetic alphabet had just been changed. . . Chris came straight back with. . . ."D.d.don't you mean t.t.two deltas?")

Danny42C
26th Mar 2016, 21:32
Fantome,

If your friend Chris had a .38 Smith & Wesson, then he did very well out of the swap !
...The phonetic alphabet had just been changed...
Telephone conversation: "Signal"......"Say again !"......"Signal"....."Spell it!" ...."Sierra....." ..... "Say again" ...."Sierra !" ......."Spell it !"......"Sugar - Item - Easy - Roger - Roger - Able...."......

Danny.

John Eacott
26th Mar 2016, 22:02
Come leave time with a day or two in Alex or Cairo, we guzzled Tiger beer, marvellous for constipation!!

We had a similar issue with the local brew in Bombay which we found was due to the glycerine content. Fix was a glass of water, upend the full bottle of beer and the glycerine would settle to the bottom of the water (heavier) and the beer remain in the bottle (lighter). Always half an inch of glycerine to be seen, no wonder it gave you the trots!


I don't remember complaining about my khaki gear. I do recall a funny incident when we were in Sicily after its capture in July/August 1943. There was an Italian owner in the vineyard where we were billeted, always offering help. I handed him a pair of Khaki shorts and told him to ask his wife to take in the waist to 32 (inches). He came back next morning holding the shorts, saying loudly "trente-due, trente-due" and indicating that his wife pointed out she couldn't reduce them to 32 centimetres! Incidentally, I still possess a once-smart khaki desert jacket with a distinctive Desert appearance.

A couple of the photos Dad acquired from Reuben, one of the vineyard owner and the other the time honoured grape crushing!

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7603-2/Desert+photo+51.jpeg

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7606-2/Desert+photo+60.jpeg

Dad can tell more of the story, no doubt.

Walter603
27th Mar 2016, 04:19
I lived in a four-man tent with Bob Pritchard, my Observer/Navigator, and the pair of great friends I have mentioned, Reub Giles and Len Coulstock, who formed another crew. We made our desert home as comfortable as possible.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7607-1/Walter+_amp_+pipe.jpg

Time off! Relaxing on the beach at Misurata in Libya

To give ourselves head room, and to protect the tent from the regular gales that produced the sand storms, we dug down into the sand a depth of about two or three feet. An island bench was formed in the centre, by wiring together a number of oblong petrol cans with the tops cut off, making a kind of open chest of drawers, into which we placed all our underwear, changes of clothes, personal possessions and spare kit.

Each of us had a folding camp bed, blankets and a pillow. For a long time, we suffered bites from the numerous fleas in the blankets, and we spent many leisure hours hunting the little devils, either crunching them between our thumb nails, or burning them quickly with a cigarette tip before they could hop out of sight.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7620-2/Desert+photo+45.jpeg

Eventually, we found the remedy – bed sheets! A rare luxury in our circumstances, they were acquired when Reub and Len were sent back to the Nile delta to collect some urgent official material. They spent a couple of days in Alexandria, and returned with the aircraft quite severely overloaded with all sorts of useful gear, including a hundredweight of sugar for trading! Anyway, we each had a pair of single sheets, and slept comfortably without fleabites, for the first time in months.

Other forms of insect life that were irritating included scorpions, of which we were always very wary, huge "piss-beetles" that colonised the inside tops of our kitbags and of various hidden parts of the tent, (so-called because if they crawled onto one's skin, they left a trail of watery blisters) the inevitable mosquitoes, giant stinging centipedes, and worst of all, myriad flies. Flies, flies, flies. In the eyes, in the ears, in the nostrils, in the food, into everything! Much worse than anything I have encountered in Australia.

Apart from these annoying trifles, squadron life was always interesting. There was plenty of work for us to do, and we quickly built up lots of operational flying hours. The German Army was finally pinched between the Americans and the British Allies, in Tunisia, and Germany was driven out of North Africa.

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7614-2/Desert+photo+16.jpeg

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7626-2/Desert+photo+62.jpeg

Walter603
27th Mar 2016, 04:29
Dad can tell more of the story, no doubt.

A few more squeamish than others among us, did not like the look of the bare feet treading the grapes but I can assure you that the wine tasted most pleasant! More on Sicily in the next post.

Fareastdriver
27th Mar 2016, 10:37
We had a similar issue with the local brew in Bombay

When I was there in 1963 we stayed at the Sun & Sand hotel on Juhu Beach. We were issued with licences to be able to purchase alcohol but we avoided it because of the hangover effects.
One day I met Scobie Breasley, an Australian jockey who rode winners all over the world. I knew him from before because my father had horses in Bulawayo and Scobie used to ride there occasionally. He was now in Bombay riding for a few Indian owners.
We retired to the bar for a beer and Scobie produced a wad of drinking licences, courtesy of several owners and then he explained the trick of upending the bottle into a saucer of water.

I think that the Cobra beer you get in the UK has been washed already.

MPN11
27th Mar 2016, 11:05
Your glycerine comments above may explain the bloody awful headaches Tiger used to give me. Although it might just have been the quantity consumed :cool:

Fareastdriver
27th Mar 2016, 13:16
I never had a problem with Tiger beer in Singapore or China. We helicopter pilots who used to camp out in the Malaya bush found that Tiger kept the mossies away. Those that drank Anchor were plagued by them all night.

Apparently Tiger beer had fourteen known poisons in it.

MPN11
28th Mar 2016, 08:10
Curious, FED. I wasn't troubled by mossies that much, even in the jungly bits around Gemas, but switching to Anchor seemed to reduce the headache issue.

FantomZorbin
28th Mar 2016, 08:25
MPN11


I always thought that every eighth Tiger was 'off' ... must've been ... couldn't have been anything else!

MPN11
28th Mar 2016, 08:42
:)

The same applied to Kokkinelli, I believe.

FantomZorbin
28th Mar 2016, 09:09
MPN11


True, true ... oh so true!

Danny42C
28th Mar 2016, 09:37
Do you people not appreciate how lucky you were to have any beer at all ? In Burma, as Kipling says:

"But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water.
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it "

Admittedly in the form of chai - and Carew's Gin did help. But how we longed for a bottle of Bass - or Guinness !

Danny.

MPN11
28th Mar 2016, 09:43
Danny42C ... we happy, hard-drinking, post-WW2 guys have to thank your generation for preserving the Empire and preventing us having to drink sake or some German muck ;)

Danny42C
28th Mar 2016, 11:51
MPN11,
... we happy, hard-drinking, post-WW2 guys have to thank your generation for preserving the Empire...
Grateful thanks accepted - but we just happened to be the watch on deck when the trumpet sounded ! (and then gave it all away in the end).
...and preventing us having to drink sake or some German muck...
Never tried sake, and would take issue with the "muck". We lapped up Moselle by the case when we were at Geilenkirchen (Dm2 - and four Pfennig back on the bottle). Even now we are partial to supermarket Niersteiner and Hock (there is little German red wine), but draw the line at "Liebfraumilch".

On the beer front, in the Mess the popular draught was "DAB" - Dortmunder Aktien Bier - the "Aktien" being the same as that produced by your glycerine. You ordered a "point 2" or a "point 5" (roughly a half-pint or a pint). Good stuff, and no hangover I noticed.

Danny.

oxenos
28th Mar 2016, 12:04
"The same applied to Kokkinelli, I believe."

Nothing wrong with Kokkinelli.

Kebabs always gave me a headache, though

lasernigel
28th Mar 2016, 12:23
Must admit one of the favourite tipples in BAOR was Asbach brandy, very cheap down the NAAFI.

MPN11
28th Mar 2016, 19:05
Ansbach ... ah, been there! Nice.
German Beer ... I vaguely remember drinking a lot of Warsteiner, which made me fall over.
German Wine ... An acquired taste, usually by the other gender! Not a chap's drink, really, old bean ;)
Kebabs ... never. :)
Makan Stalls in Orchard Road and Bugis Street ... often. Great blotting paper :)

"Mick" in Bugis Street once gave us the Tourist Menu by mistake, with the inflated prices. He was mortified by the accidental insult, and gave us all a bottle of Anchor [and the correct menu] to compensate. Yes, we had hairy brown knees :D

Fareastdriver
28th Mar 2016, 19:30
I bet you the other boys didn't.

There was a German brauhause in Tianjin, east of Beijing. This was in the old pre-war German concession area and had been restored to it's original state. Behind large glass windows were the large brewing tanks and they served blonde or dark beer just like the old days.

Not very strong; you were expected to quaff many litre mugs to the sound of oompa music.

Danny42C
28th Mar 2016, 19:41
Walter (your #8387),

Having scrutinised your excellent pics, observe as follows:

No.1 The one for the girl friend ! How debonair a pipe makes a chap look (I had one exactly like it - same reason).

No.2 Half Naked ! (Get those buttons done up, you 'orrible little man !) What happened to the wings ?

No.3 Camp follower ? (like the hat).

No.4 Now this is/was a Tunic in Khaki Drill. Hardly fit for parade, though. A Bush Jacket would be in cellular material, with just a shirt collar and buttons.

Danny.

John Eacott
28th Mar 2016, 22:01
Walter (your #8387),
No.4 Now this is/was a Tunic in Khaki Drill. Hardly fit for parade, though. A Bush Jacket would be in cellular material, with just a shirt collar and buttons.

Danny.

Danny,

Not only does Dad still fit his RAAF uniform (he will be leading his Odd Bods again in uniform this year in the ANZAC Day parade in Melbourne) but he still has this old jacket in fine condition :ok:

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7633-2/Old+bush+jacket.jpg

Plus a sleeveless pullover and a shirt which came as part of the Red Cross parcels to POWs, marked 'Brasil'. Remarkable how these items of clothing have lasted 70+ years across Europe and Australia :D

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7642-2/ANZAC+Day+2014.jpg

Nugget90
29th Mar 2016, 08:28
Those photos of RAAF Veterans forming up to parade on ANZAC Day remind me that last year I joined former members of the No 36 Sqn RAAF Association in Sydney with the same aim in mind - to march past the Cenotaph and the huge supporting crowds that were there to help mark the event. On these occasions the applause is seemingly unending and a succession of bands provide cheerful marching tunes to help keep the veterans going. Our contingent got the 'go-ahead' from the parade marshals some two and a half hours after the Naval contingents had started off, but the crowds were still there as we marched past - and earlier that day there had been 30,000 at the Dawn Service! I felt great pride in being part of that very special, centenary commemoration of the landings at Gallipoli and the formation of Australia as a nation.

As an RAF pilot, my involvement came about because I had the very good fortune to obtain an exchange posting to the the Squadron in the mid 1960s (half a century ago, now!!!) and participated in all that our unit undertook in and around South East Asia. I have happy memories of flying our C130A Hercules into all sorts of airfields/airstrips with the best bunch of professional aviators it has ever been my privilege to serve alongside.

I plan this year, as in former years, to join up again with the ANZAC contingent to march past the Cenotaph in Whitehall where a short Service is supported by a Guards band and attended by the two High Commissioners, the Heads of the UK Armed Forces and the Secretary of State for Defence. This will then be followed by a most fitting Service in Westminster Abbey where the national flags of the UK, Australia, New Zealand AND TURKEY will be laid on or alongside the high altar. Oh yes, and a Dawn Service will be held at the Australian and New Zealand War Memorials at Wellington Gate, should anyone wish to participate! All events attract large numbers of young Australians and New Zealanders, for ANZAC Day is so very special to them.

"Lest we forget"

Danny42C
29th Mar 2016, 20:30
John (your #8404),

So it is a Bush Jacket, after all. But in a heavier material than our cellular. Must have been very hot and sticky to wear.
...he will be leading his Odd Bods again in uniform...
When did the RAAF give up the dark blue for the RAF blue ? (the dark looked much better IMHO). And I'm a bit puzzled about the uniform. He is wearing an officer's cap, but I can't see any badges of rank anywhere. The jacket has no belt, and no patch pockets below (where does he keep his sarnies, pipe and baccy ?).

Gongs could do with being hung a smidgen lower, as they are hiding his wings.

Whatever, I'm sure he'll do you proud on April 25th !

Danny.

Union Jack
29th Mar 2016, 22:13
He is wearing an officer's cap, but I can't see any badges of rank anywhere.

....except on the shoulder straps perhaps?

Whatever, I'm sure he'll do you proud on April 25th!

Hear! Hear!:ok:

Jack

John Eacott
29th Mar 2016, 22:15
Danny,

The RAAF wear shoulder boards, and they ditched the dark blue back when Pontius was a pilot. At least, a long time ago ;)

The bush jacket is a very lightweight material, the iPhone photo may not show that very well. It would suit a hot climate, of that there is no doubt, but still being wearable after 73 years is a tribute to the standards in those days!

I'll have to talk to ToM about the medals and wings ;)

http://www.eacott.com.au/gallery/d/7645-2/Sqdn+Ldr+WA+Eacott+OAM.jpg

FantomZorbin
30th Mar 2016, 06:38
JE
Thank you for the picture of a very, very impressive gentleman.
With greatest respect, FZ

Walter603
30th Mar 2016, 06:52
Nugget90

Those photos of RAAF Veterans forming up to parade on ANZAC Day remind me that last year I joined former members of the No 36 Sqn RAAF Association in Sydney with the same aim in mind.....
I had the privilege of being in London last year, guest of the Royal British Legion at the Cenotaph on 8 May and in Westminster Abbey on 10 May, then parading with beterans past cheering British crowds to our lunch in St. James Park. It was only 2 weeks after I had led my Odd Bods through Melbourne on 25 April, and gave me great pleasure. I fulfilled a long-held wish to be in London for the 70th anniversary of VE Day in 1945, shortly after my arrival from POW life in Germany.

Danny 42C.

The RAAF gave up our dark blue uniforms in 1972/73 and dressed us in the badly designed light blue until I retired. My old uniform was donated to the local Dramatic Society in Werribee Vic, my former home. A switch back to dark blue was made some time ago, much to everyone's satisfaction.

Walter 603

Danny42C
30th Mar 2016, 09:09
Walter,

Of course ! I see the 'scraper' now. My apologies, Sir.

Glad you've gone back into dark blue. The Aussies were always sui generis, and variety is the spice of life after all. Are the wings gold lace ? (shades of the 1951 new pattern horror jacket, which, mercifully, didn't last long). Buttons bulled to perfection - or are they Staybrite ? And the No.1 gong is a new one on me: presume an Australian decoration.

All in all, you are a credit to your country and to our generation ! I'm only a year older, but I don't look 10% as good and am practically housebound. There must be something in the air down there !

Happy April 25th !

Danny.

MPN11
30th Mar 2016, 09:11
It's the Order of Australia Medal, Danny42C. 'General Order', the 'Military Order' has gold stripes outboard.

(I only know that because I went and Googled it!)

No luck with the unmounted 'dangler', I'm assuming a Commemorative or similar.

Danny42C
30th Mar 2016, 10:28
Maybe a Scout Badge (like Pike !).......(only joking).

D.

John Eacott
30th Mar 2016, 11:03
Maybe a Scout Badge (like Pike !).......(only joking).

D.

Danny,

It's the Prisoner of War Medal (http://www.awardmedals.com/allied-ex-prisoners-of-war-medal-p-607.html), but Dad has much more of his story to tell before we get there so I'll get GBH of the ear'ole tomorrow at lunch for putting this out of sequence ;)

http://www.awardmedals.com/images/allied-mini-lrg.jpg

Yes, he has the Order of Australia Medal, the OAM.

So when he visits the UK he is truly an OAM away from 'ome. He'll be there in a month or two, please get the order in for some decent weather :ok:

Danny42C
30th Mar 2016, 11:29
John,

I stand ashamed ! (did not know of the medal - served 23 years in the RAF after the war and never heard of it. Why not ? God knows).

What a clever touch, the barbed wire motif !

British weather is in the lap of the Gods, as ever. Why do you suppose our forebears went forth and colonised all the continents (bar Arctic/Antarctica) ?

Because they couldn't stand the bloody weather back here any longer, of course !

Will probably be a blizzard on ANZAC day (hope not).

Danny.

MPN11
30th Mar 2016, 11:34
Unofficial POW medal ... glad to see it's not been mounted with the real stuff :D


See also ...

https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/REL34162.008

Fareastdriver
1st Apr 2016, 20:00
Getting a bit slack.

Where were we? Just turning the toe of Italy and heading East.

A quick conference between we remaining two and we decided where to load him up so that we would have equal fuel and take two Javelins each as at that time he did not have enough to reach Cyprus. We would transfer fuel to him just before the final refuelling bracket to reduce the possibility of our hose kinking on rewind as the hose was new and not fully broken in.

About five minutes before the bracket we streamed our hose and he settled in behind. He connected and took his share of the fuel just as we reached the beginning of the slot. He moved well away taking his pair with him and streamed. Once all four had finished with us they flew ahead to get a better height and speed for them than we could offer. We flew as a pair until about one hundred miles from Akrotiri when we slowed down to give him some spacing in the letdown. It would have been nice, and impressive, for us to come in and do a formation break like everybody else but in Bomber Command enjoying yourself was very much frowned upon.

There was no cloud worth speaking about as we viewed Cyprus from thirty thousand and John handed it over to me for the landing. At the top of the descent the dregs of fuel being tossed out of the underwings must have surprised a few people on the beach down below but the rest of the letdown was straightforward. There was a twenty knot crosswind on the runway so I used the technique of crabbing the aircraft just above the runway until it was about to drop and then booting the rudder to line it up to land. The RAF had by then decided to teach the dropped wing technique. They went through about a thousand tyres before people got the hang of it.


Akrotiri and Episkopi, the SBA (Sovereign Base Area), occupied the southern lump of Cyprus and they were little more than a big airfield, most married personnel living in Larnaca up the road. The officer’s mess wasn’t very big; as we were in transit we had to live in dreadful shacks known as Twining huts, two of us sharing something that was little bigger than an air raid shelter. Dave Wright, being a sergeant, had to put up with having his own air-conditioned room in the sergeants’ mess. We decided that as we were in the Mediterranean we had to swim in the sea so we got out our swimming gear and headed off south. We found a path and followed it to the edge of a cliff. That was it in this part of the island, a small bay festooned with rocks and a minuscule beach. With the stiff breeze driving the sea in it did not look like the safest place to swim in either. Undeterred we followed the steep path down and surveyed the scene.

Pride of place was a large coffin shaped rock and somebody had spent a long time engraving. ‘Here lies Black Mak’ on the top, an obvious reference to Archbishop Makarios, the religious leader of the ENOSIS movement. Using this edifice as a wardrobe we splashed about for an hour in the warm though cloudy water. Our skins were already starting to redden in the sun so we packed it in and went back to our huts. Our No1 aircraft landed whilst we were on our way back so after we had showered we were just in time to welcome them to their accommodation and disappear off to the bar.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny so after breakfast I cleared up my mess bill and got a load of useless Cypriot Milles in change. We all went over to the station briefing room for the days brief. Most of the briefing was routine and we co-pilots all agreed between us that the three-engined safety and the stop speed were the same. The take of roll was 7,800ft. but if the temperature reached 29°C the roll was 8,100ft which was our limit. This was because the runway was 9,000ft. in length and we had to have 900ft. left over. Should the water methanol not engage on any engine the take off would be stopped. Even if it was working in these conditions the co-pilot held the throttles open hard against their stops. The first refuelling bracket was just over the water in Turkey, the second turning south just over the Turkish/Iran border and the third at the head of the Persian Gulf. All four of the tankers would get away together otherwise there was no way they could catch up. All sorted we loaded ourselves and our kit into the transport and went out to the aircraft. We went through the normal ceremonies and then we strapped in and waited for the order to start. The tanker leader confirmed that all the Javelins and we were ready so on his signal sixteen Avons and eight Sapphires strained into life. We taxiied in a long line to the runway, the four Javelins following us and as there was still a reasonable cross wind we took of at ten-second intervals. I held the throttles forward on cue and as the water meth went in I made sure that we were getting everything we were supposed to. The acceleration check was good and at 113 knots I called stop and safety and we were on our way. The combination of four Valiants and four Javelins taking off must have made every window in the SBA rattle for five minutes.

As briefed the lead tanker flew separately with his gaggle so they would not get confused. As John was flying there was not a lot for me to do except look at the stark scenery of Turkey and wonder how anybody managed to live there, not only that it was supposed to be the cradle of civilisation. However, back to work, the four fighters topped themselves up and we three moved in to take on all his spare fuel. Despite the fact that we were last he still had enough fuel to top us up so that we were now back to maximum weight. With that he turned back to Cyprus.

As we approached the middle of Turkey the scenery got even more mountainous and forbidding. We all switched off our navigation radars as we were getting close to the Soviet Union and there was no point in them refreshing on our bombing radar frequencies. The solitary Lake Van came up with its little township and airfield and soon we crossed into Iran and turned south. At the second bracket the Javelins shared between two tankers to save time and at the third bracket the first pair took their load and went on without waiting for the other two to finish. The last two were done and they scurried off into the distance.


The heat and humidity were oppressive when we got out. It was like going into a steam room without the steam. I dived back into the cockpit with the others and replaced my flying kit with KD shirt and shorts. I, being there for the first time, looked out of place wearing black shoes. All the others were wearing buff suede footwear known as desert boots or brothel creepers dependent on your outlook on life. We all piled into buses, leaving our ground crew to look after the aircraft so as to give our crew chiefs a break. Apart from catnaps in the bomb-aimers position, they had been going non-stop since we had left Honington.

I had never been to the Arab world before and the thing that struck me was that everything was, or looked, covered in dust. The four Hunters detached from Aden looked as if they hadn’t been washed for months but I found out subsequently that the paint they used for aircraft used to take on this hue in the sun.

The RAF station at Bahrain was all on one level. As we went into our accommodation the chill of the air conditioners was a relief and in no time I was showered and dressed for the bar. We had lost a couple of hours on the clock and the view from the bus had suggested that there was very little else to do. I walked out of the building with my issue sunglasses on and very quickly found out as the world disappeared that sunglasses fog over when they come out of air conditioning.

I met one of my fellow students from my Vampire days who was up from Khormaksa (Aden) with his Hunter. He told me a story about one of their pilots who was on alert after a heavy squadron dining-in night. An army convoy in the Radfan with a newspaper correspondent in tow had been fired on by some rebels from a hill about two hundred yards off the road. They had called up for air support and he had gone for the hill with rockets. Unfortunately, or fortunately in this case, his gunsight was set to guns so when he fired he saw to his horror that the rockets were dropping short and going for the convoy. They just missed it and landed in a wadi about twenty yards away. There was a massive explosion and then there was this fountain of old guns, arms and legs etc. Apparently this group were waiting for the troops to charge the hill so they could pop up behind. The Army was delighted, they thought it was deliberate and the newspaper reporter filled two columns with glowing praise of the Royal Air Force.

To be continued-----------------

Danny42C
2nd Apr 2016, 11:17
Fareastdriver (#8417),
...I, being there for the first time, looked out of place wearing black shoes. All the others were wearing buff suede footwear known as desert boots or brothel creepers dependent on your outlook on life...
JENKINS (#8418),
...Desert Boots,
Also known as 'desert wellies.' I have enough, unused and in boxes, to last me 'till I pop my clogs. Even flew in airlines in black desert wellies...
I don't think I wore my black shoes more than once or twice during the 3½ years I spent in India. The rest of the time they collected mould at the bottom of my 'tin box'. Knocking around camp I'd wear chaplis ("Jesus" sandals), over knee-length woolen stockings by day. Flying, and in the evenings, I'd wear "brothel creepers". Ours were invariably made in sambhur skin, very soft and pliable. The 'brothel creeper' name derived from the thick sponge rubber soles (to insulate your feet from the hot ground and hot wing surfaces).

Operationally, I wore a pair of basketball (baseball ?) boots picked up in the States. You might have a long jungle walk back home; it didn't matter if they got wet wading streams, for the sides were strong canvas and they had thick rubber soles (I believe the Jap infantryman wore a similar thing, with a separate compartment for his big toe).

All "gone with the wind", now of course.

Danny.

Wander00
2nd Apr 2016, 11:48
JER - have you organised his bus/Oyster card?

Danny42C
2nd Apr 2016, 12:01
Fareastdriver,
...The Army was delighted, they thought it was deliberate and the newspaper reporter filled two columns with glowing praise of the Royal Air Force....
Well, you can't lose 'em all, can you ? - you must win sometime ! (I hope nobody spilled the beans).

And what a saga, getting those four Javelins to where they could do most good - but at what a hideous cost.

Minor cavil: a few dates would be helpful, FED.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
5th Apr 2016, 20:10
Danny. we departed Honington on the 26th Oct 1962 and arrived in Bombay on the 28th.

The next day was a fairly early start so that we could take off before the temperature started rocketing. My Chief Tech had bought me my brothel creepers at my request from the NAAFI so I felt more of a world traveller. The Javelins now had a pair of Firestreak misssiles fitted so they were down to two underwing tanks each. We followed the same procedure as the day before and noticed with concern that the first tanker did not seem to take off. When the runway ran out he appeared to carry on just above the water. They had not worked out the humidity penalties for take off so at unstick it would get airborne but there was virtually a zero rate of climb for some time. As we lined up I found that I could not see the end of the runway, most of it was hidden by a glistening sheen which was the damp cold air effect near the ground.
This time the throttles were really jammed forward as we had a gap of seven knots were we could not stop or go and judging by the rate at which the airspeed indicator was moving this was going to be for some time. All went well but when John rotated and pulled it into the air it just seemed to sit there and head for the horizon. The ASI was just starting to show some real interest in moving when the water meth ran out and threatened to sink us into the sea. We climbed at 190 knots until we got some proper separation before cleaning up and getting away. The first refuelling bracket was as we cleared the Persian Gulf and this was followed by a top up as we approached India. We then said bye-bye to our chicks and sent them off to war.

Fifteen minutes separation, Bombay Santa Cruz International Airport wanted, so we orbited for forty-minutes until our turn came. On the final approach we appeared to be flying over a scrap heap of tin shacks and slums. The runway was appallingly bumpy and as we rolled down it I noticed a loose line of men with green shirts standing on either side. I found out later that their job was to persuade the cows to get off the tarmac. We taxiied to the hardstanding in front of the terminal building and we in turn were surrounded by a sea of humanity being vainly controlled by a baton-waving bunch of policemen. We got down from the cockpit and the crew chief started guarding the pannier as a lot were showing an unhealthy interest in the contents. They were trying to sell us everything from jewellery to water and I made sure that my flying suit pocket with my passport and wallet was zipped up securely. Eventually the crowd was driven back and an aged AEO came up. It was the RAF organiser.

“Welcome to India,” he started. “Get your kit into this truck that’s coming with six Indian air force blokes with guns and then move you aircraft over to the Indian Air Force patch over there,” he pointed to an area of tarmac with four Valiants and a few DC 3s scattered about.
We queried whether we should refuel it first.
“No way,” he declared. “That’s what we did with the first four but the tarmac over there is so soft we couldn’t get the aircraft off this bit until we had defueled it some." Our first aircraft had already started and was moving away so we waited for our turn for the ground power unit. It arrived and we looked at the generator towing vehicle in amazement. It was somewhat battered mid-twenties Rolls Royce; its angular radiator still pristine but surrounded in steam from a leaking core. It was an open four seater, its hood having disappeared years ago, with the cracked and soiled rear seat covered with junk and old tools. How it came to belong to the Indian Air Force was no mystery. At the beginning of the Second World War lots of old dowagers and lower aristocracy in the UK had donated their surplus Bentleys and Daimlers to the British army and they had all ended up rotting in a field in Devon, so presumably some maharajah had done the same with this. The big difference being that over twenty years later it was still being used.

http://i229.photobucket.com/albums/ee224/fareastdriver/1-2-2010_021.jpg (http://s229.photobucket.com/user/fareastdriver/media/1-2-2010_021.jpg.html)

The power unit only just coughed up enough volts for us to start the first engine and then we followed the others around to our temporary parking area. Whilst the captains were completing their paperwork I strolled over to the DC3 next door. There were a couple of IndAF corporals working on it and it was obviously past its time and being used for spares. There was a few panels missing and both wing fillets had been removed, you could see the main spar cuffs through the gaps. I waved to the airman and went back to my group. Tthen a bus pitched up and we climbed in. We were just about to drive away when I heard the unmistakable sound of a radial engine being started. The scrap DC3 was starting up and smartly uniformed gentlemen were getting in the back. They were going to fly it!

The bus took us round to the terminal building where we went through immigration and customs. Customs seemed a waste of time as our kit had gone already. We went into another office where there was our RAF AEO chatting to a colleague from the IndAF. A third was something to do with the government and he looked as if he was just about to pay off his mortgage. We lined up and went through the procedure. An ornate form was filled in with our name and passport numbers, we signed each in turn and with a final signature and a bang with a stamp that was it. We were all registered alcoholics in the state of Maharashtra. It was apparently the only way that one could get around the rules. The only other alternative was a tourist licence that entitled you to one bottle of beer or light wine a day. This was no use to us and to be certified for unlimited consumption this procedure was required which was why we were going through this pantomime. We had to wait whilst our crew chiefs finished tidying up and went through the same procedure so I went up to the terminal area out of curiosity. After five minutes of being hounded by hawkers and beggars I retreated back downstairs.

http://i229.photobucket.com/albums/ee224/fareastdriver/1-2-2010_022.jpg (http://s229.photobucket.com/user/fareastdriver/media/1-2-2010_022.jpg.html)

The formalities completed we climbed into the bus and drove to the hotel. Every time it slowed to a walking pace a barrage of hands would be tapping on the glass. The inside was stifling hot but it was better than taking a chance and opening the windows. As with most Westerners my idea of India was marble palaces and simple agrarian scenes. I wasn’t prepared for the appalling poverty on the road from the airport. All the permanent buildings were packed with faces; endless shacks built from whatever was available and even trees had platforms built on them holding whole families. On more than one occasion you could see a vegetable stall owner standing by helplessly by whilst a cow was demolishing his produce. Before the Partition of India there was not such a problem, they could employ Muslims, who had no compunction about booting cows, to drive them away. Another thing that shocked me were the carts with one or two men almost yoked to the shafts. I had never, even in Africa, seen human beings used as beasts of burden. Fortunately the scenery improved as we neared journeys end as I was getting quite depressed and we turned into the Sun & Sand hotel by Juhu beach.

The saga will continue..................

Danny42C
6th Apr 2016, 09:50
Fareastdriver,

Phew ! So many points in the story that I can relate to ! Stand by for a fuller commentary later.

First fruits of the dates: the Javelins' 'War' would be the Indonesian Unpleasantness, I take it. Was on standby myself for that, got a set of jabs and a lovely new blue and gold passport from the RAF, but they managed without me somehow.

Danny.

Danny42C
6th Apr 2016, 21:38
Fareastdriver (your #8422),
...My Chief Tech had bought me my brothel creepers at my request from the NAAFI...
In the '60s, one of my F/Sgt Controllers bought me a pair of black Oxfords (W.O. Pattern ?)
from RAF Stores at half the price they would have charged me. Still got 'em somewhere.
...We followed the same procedure as the day before and noticed with concern that the first tanker did not seem to take off. When the runway ran out he appeared to carry on just above the water...
cf my 18th Oct 2012, (p.157 #3131) "Danny has an Unpleasant Vision of the Future".
... but there was virtually a zero rate of climb for some time...
Ground Cushion Effect - the "Great Persian Gulf Sea Monster ?"

(your #8417),
...As we went into our accommodation the chill of the air conditioners was a relief...
What is this ? When did we start pampering our aircrew ? This is not the spirit which made our Empire Great, what, what, old boy ?

(back to #8422),
... I found out later that their job was to persuade the cows to get off the tarmac...
I had to buzz my fauna off myself (but, to be fair, I only had goats to contend with).
... but the tarmac over there is so soft we couldn’t get the aircraft off this bit until we had defueled it some...
cf my p.153 #3056: "Danny, Rats, Goats, Kitehawks and stuck Liberators".
... It arrived and we looked at the generator towing vehicle in amazement. It was somewhat battered mid-twenties Rolls Royce; its angular radiator still pristine but surrounded in steam from a leaking core. It was an open four seater, its hood having disappeared years ago, with the cracked and soiled rear seat covered with junk and old tools...
You've posted these pics before - but no matter, they're well worth seeing again (and proof that old Rollers will run forever !)
...After five minutes of being hounded by hawkers and beggars I retreated back downstairs...
India will never change.
... Another thing that shocked me were the carts with one or two men almost yoked to the shafts...
Human labour is dirt cheap and in infinite supply. But it seems the man-pulled rickshaw is dying out in favour of "tuc-tucs" throughout the Far East.
...The saga will continue..................
Bring it on, FED !

Danny.

DHfan
6th Apr 2016, 22:28
"Ground Cushion Effect - the "Great Persian Gulf Sea Monster ?""

Caspian Sea Danny.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caspian_Sea_Monster

The Ekranoplan - an amazing beast.

Danny42C
7th Apr 2016, 12:21
DHfan,

Yes, the Ekranoplan was a wonderful thing, wasn't it ! I was comparing it ironically to the similar performance of FED's Valiant tanker on take-off from Bahrein.

As I recall, the principle has been applied to small "sports" type one or two seat light "aircraft", as much less power is required than is needed for real flight. Should do well in the Everglades and in the bayoux of Louisiana, I would have thought.

Danny.

DHfan
7th Apr 2016, 13:31
Danny.
I realised that several hours after I posted. :O
It was a bit late then...

There was a programme on t'box some years ago about the original monsters and the smaller ones developed in the States, by some of the original design team IIRC.
I don't know if they ever reached production.

Fareastdriver
7th Apr 2016, 14:42
Danny. I cannot remember when I last posted those pictures but lot of readers may not have read that far back.


The hotel was as modern as it could be for India and we checked in. I was given the key to my room that was on the third floor and moved in. The room was good enough but the bed was as hard as a rock. A large thermos labelled ‘drinking water’ was by the bed and as it was still cold I considered that it was that days supply. I looked out of the window and to my left I could see the broad expanse of Juhu beach. Below me seemed to be the tradesman’s entrance to the kitchens. The odour of Indian cooking drifted up so I closed the window again to stop it flavouring the room. There wasn’t a shower, so I had a quick cool bath to get the dust off. After dressing I proceeded to the pool. Walking down the corridor yet another Indian woman holding a bunch of twigs melted into the shadows, it wasn’t until later that I found out why they were there.

As I passed through the foyer the Sikh doorman greeted me. A glance at the medal ribbons on his chest bore witness to the fact that he had been all across North Africa and Italy. Included was the Kenyan medal for service during the Mau Mau period. I had spent time in the Rhodesian army and the Rhodesian African Rifles had served up there during the same time. We chatted about his experiences there and as an aside I asked him why the hotel employed all these women with bunches of sticks.
They are the carpet sweepers.”
“Why don’t you get some vacuum cleaners? It would be much easier.”
“Have you any idea of the cost of vacuum cleaners in India?” was his simple reply.
We agreed that if I had any problems I would go to him. I then realised I had forgotton my licence so I went upstairs to retrieve it.

I was just about to leave when I heard a hubbub of conversation outside my window. I opened it and looked down. The lower echelons of the hotel staff were all gathered about and they were in the process of hosing down the branch of a tree that had been dragged in. This is an unusual tree planting ceremony, I thought. Two large cooking pots with rice and the meal of the day were brought out. The assembled multitude immediately plucked off the big leaves from the branch and used them as a plate to load up with food, then held it to their face and pushed the contents down their mouths with their hands. Damn all pay but at least one square meal a day was in the contract.

I went downstairs and this time there were no ghosts melting into the shadows. In the pool area I met my crew. They had already sussed out the beer arrangements and it occurred to me that Dave, our AEO, a Sgt Signaller, had been mentally strapped down to his chair.
“Don’t let him get away;” said John, “he’s our meal ticket.”
Apparently there was no effective limit on what they could put on the hotel bill for meals so Dave was going to be the official host for the crew. The other crews had also riveted their crew chiefs feet to their particular patch and they weren’t letting them get away either.

The red ball of the sun was starting to sink into the Indian Ocean so I had to accelerate my drinking to catch up with the rest. Just as it was starting to get dark we trooped into the dining room for dinner. The the crews were already there. Orders like No1 to 6 twice were commonplace which I thought was flogging the system somewhat. We ordered in the conventional way and soon found out why, the portions were minute. Unfortunately we could not order again, as this would entail a second bill. Still feeling hungry we finished; Dave signed the bill with a flourish and we repaired to the terrace.

The hotel had laid on some sort of cabaret to entertain us; the singer looked fine but had a voice like a chainsaw. The dancers, I being an expert who could see through the frills, were a bit on the plump side and their faces were camouflaged by some really heavy eye make-up. However, rippling fingers got some of the airmen started up and as some were National Service they were not communicating the appropriate form of praise that I would have expected from the Royal Air Force. Luckily the girls either could not understand or ignored it and carried on so comments like ‘getemorff’ were totally lost. The day, despite the clock advantage was starting to wear so we called it a day and went

I was awoken next morning at eight by my plotter.
“We’re just digging Dave out of bed to buy us breakfast, are you coming?”
There seemed little reason not to so I was told to be in the dining room at half past. I was slightly early so I bought a copy of the Bombay Times from reception and checked up on the war. We were not mentioned, but it appeared that the show was fizzling out. Both the foreign ministers were discussing it and it seemed that they were going to straighten out a few kinks. It was all the British’s fault. When they had mounted an expedition into Tibet they had moved the border around a bit for tactical reasons and had amended the maps; unfortunately the Chinese were still using the old copies. However the tension had eased so it appeared that we would not be staying for long. The rest of the crew frog-marched Dave in. He didn’t look very well as he had been carousing with the crew chiefs until three o’clock, which explained why there were other tables full of officers with ashen-faced SNCOs

Somebody had fixed up a tour of Bombay after lunch. Lunchtime came and another flight of Chief Technicians were frog-marched into the dining room. The nine rupees we were getting just about covered a bowl of soup. Dave was wheeled in with the rest of them. We had to sponge on the SNCOs, it would have been considered bad form to get an airman to pay. This time I decided to go local and have the curry. Have been trained at Oakington I was familiar with all the Indian restaurants in Cambridge so I was confident that I could take whatever they gave me. It was awful! It was just boiled something or other with curry powder sprinkled over the top, at least that what it tasted like.

The bus was on time and an Indian Air Force officer was acting as our guide. He must have had a degree in history or something because he gave us a complete rundown of every building of interest from when they started digging the foundations. There were obviously no preservation societies in Bombay as most were very close to collapsing. Bombay City Council, or its equivalent, had far stricter ideas about beggars than whoever ran the outskirts so there were not the tapping hands of before.

On the flight in our maps showed that there was a red prohibited circle over a part of Bombay and we were taken to this. It was a park with a fair number of trees, which were full of roosting vultures. In the middle were what looked like miniature power station cooling towers. Our guide explained that when a sect known as the Farsi had one of their number die they put the body on a grid on top of the towers. The vultures would demolish it and the bones would fall through and be collected for the family shrine. We had a look at some snake charmers but most of the cobras looked a bit dozy; my cat in Rhodesia would have had no trouble in disposing of them. It wasn’t a long tour, because of the traffic it would have taken us a week to get around the whole place. What amused me was the number of Morris Cowleys, produced in India as the Hindus

http://i229.photobucket.com/albums/ee224/fareastdriver/1-2-2010_024.jpg (http://s229.photobucket.com/user/fareastdriver/media/1-2-2010_024.jpg.html)


Back at the pool we found that there was a lot of chat going on We stacked up with a few beers and started to catch up with all the rumours. They were rife. 214’s bosses and Les had been at the British High Commission in town all afternoon and they were not divulging a syllable. They had nearly lost a Javelin. The pilot had pulled too much and a problem with the Javelin is that if the angle of attack is too high the delta wing blanks off the tailplane. This causes it to mush and it goes into a spin. The tailplane is invariably still blanked off so that it cannot recover. The only way to get the tailplane back into clean air is to push the nose down and by ejecting the navigator the recoil of the ejector seat achieves this when the navigator goes out. This had worked out fine and our hero was casually waving to his navigator as he drifted down to some village. The war was to all intents and purposes over so we did not expect to be there for much longer; which was just as well because some blokes were having hallucinations about sausages, bacon and eggs.

To be continued.

Stanwell
7th Apr 2016, 19:36
Great stuff, FED.
You missed your vocation.
Can hardly wait for the next instalment.

Stanwell
7th Apr 2016, 19:45
Danny,
I recently got wind of the fact that there's another Vengeance extant down here in Oz.
A surprise to me and others.

I've no details on it yet but I hear it's being 'restored'.
It'll be interesting to find out how much of one they actually have and, its provenance.
I'll report back when I can get hold of some credible info.

Danny42C
7th Apr 2016, 20:35
Stanwell,

There is/was in your part of the world a Cooda Shooda, who told me some time ago of a group of enthusiasts out there who were trying to gather enough bits to rebuild a Mk. I.

Wished them every success, but think it's a forlorn hope.

Cooda Shooda, if you're 'on frequency', could you come in on this ?

Danny.

CoodaShooda
8th Apr 2016, 09:59
Hi Danny
Unfortunately, I'm in the same boat as Stanwell.

From a contact in NZ and classified ads in a regional Historical Aviation magazine, I'm aware there is a group trying to resurrect a Vengeance.

But my attempts through third parties to make contact (and indeed point them towards this prince of threads) have been unsuccessful.

It doesn't help that I'm perched 4000 kms away from our major population centres. So opportunities for face to face contact are somewhat limited.

Nevertheless, I live in hope. :)

Danny42C
8th Apr 2016, 11:47
Fareastdriver,

Another masterpiece of the detail which is so rivetting !

I add a few words from my (very old) experiences:
...yet another Indian woman holding a bunch of twigs...
Either a handful or attached to a broomstick. Has been used this way by "sweepers" for ever and a day.
...pushed the contents down their mouths with their hands...
Normally one hand only (the other being reserved for a less salubrious purpose, often a little brass pot of water being carried around to serve as an al-fresco bidet).
...bought a copy of the Bombay Times from reception and checked up on the war...
So I picked on the wrong war just now ! What on Earth were we doing to get mixed up in that Sino-Indian border dispute ? What dog did we have in that fight ?
...It was all the British’s fault. When they had mounted an expedition into Tibet they had moved the border around a bit for tactical reasons and had amended the maps..
When we were the ruling power in those parts, the borders were pretty well where we said they were. Reminds me of the oft-repeated gibe that the colonial powers in Africa divided it up "with ruler and set-square".
...The nine rupees we were getting just about covered a bowl of soup...
How is the Rupee fallen ! When I was in Calcutta, the "Grand" hotel in Chowringhee (second only to the "Great Eastern" in Old Court House Street) would do you room and full board for Rs10 a day (say 14/- then, say £17.50 today [UK general inflation] or £60 [UK wage inflation] - the Rs inflation has been much worse than the £ [and that has been bad enough !] The Rs [Pakistan] half as bad again). Take a deep breath and look up the Oberoi Grand's (5-star) prices today !
...as most were very close to collapsing...
They often did ! (balconies in particular). The Building Regulations (if any) of the time were very loosely applied, being a matter of negotiation between the developer, the municipal authority and the contractor - and it was not unknown for a few bundles of notes to change hands in the process.
Couldn't happen today, of course. ([I]oh, dear !)
...In the middle were what looked like miniature power station cooling towers. Our guide explained that when a sect known as the Farsi had one of their number die they put the body on a grid on top of the towers. The vultures would demolish it and the bones would fall through and be collected for the family shrine...
They were called "Towers of Silence", erected by the Parsee (originally Persian) community of Bombay. There this has prospered, their members being known as the "Jews of India" (not in any perjorative sense, but on account of their financial acumen). I suppose it is the ideal eco-friendly method of disposal.

Would not be too sure about "collected for the family shrine", for the iron grid on top is a multi-occupancy affair; India is a very large exporter of bone-meal; have a look round your friendly local Garden Centre.
...What amused me was the number of Morris Cowleys, produced in India as the Hindus...
Not sure about the "Cowleys", but the 1951 1500 Morris "Oxford"'s jigs and tools were sold on to India; they produced the Hindustan "Ambassador" which (with, I believe, a Japanese diesel engine) was the staple Indian car for decades.
...They had nearly lost a Javelin. The pilot had pulled too much and a problem with the Javelin is that if the angle of attack is too high the delta wing blanks off the tailplane. This causes it to mush and it goes into a spin...
Not a spin, but at Geilenkirchen about '62, a 11 Sqn pair of Javelins "ran in and broke" - all too literally in the case of the No.2 - seems it happens if you pull too much 'G' and too high a rate of roll at the same time (both killed).

This is splendid - keep it up ! (and there must be more of you out there who could add to this feast)

Danny.

Danny42C
8th Apr 2016, 12:30
CoodaShooda,

Slow Flyer rebuilt the Narellan Vengeance for the Museum. He would certainly have heard on the grapevine if people are rooting about looking for bits to build another.

123 VVs from the British original purchases (Mks. I and II) were allocated to the RAAF. There must be some remains on a scrapyard somewhere out there.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
8th Apr 2016, 13:01
Not sure about the "Cowleys", but the 1951 1500 Morris "Oxford"'s jigs and tools were sold on to India;

The 1951 Morris Oxford was the Series MO model with the side valve 1,500 cc engine; my first ever car. The Hindustan was identical to the 1954 Oxford but so was the 1954 Cowley; it was the engine and fittings that were smaller and cheaper on the Cowley.

About ten years ago the Hindustan was released on the British market. Not a lot of takers, though, even the Sikhs wanted to forget those.

mikehallam
8th Apr 2016, 19:52
DHFan & Danny

Re. your #8425 & #8426, this extract from a story by Thurber already anticipated that occurrence:

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber

"WE'RE going through!" The Commander's voice was like thin ice breaking. He wore his full dress uniform, with the heavily braided white cap pulled down rakishly over one cold gray eye.
"We can't make it, sir. It's spoiling for a hurricane, if you ask me."
"I'm not asking you, Lieutenant Berg," said the Commander. "Throw on the power lights! Rev her up to 8500! We're going through!"
The pounding of the cylinders increased: Ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketapocketa.
The Commander stared at the ice forming on the pilot window. He walked over and twisted a row of complicated dials. "Switch on No. 8 auxiliary!" he shouted.
"Switch on No. 8 auxiliary!" repeated Lieutenant Berg.
"Full strength in No. 3 turret!" shouted the Commander.
"Full strength in No. 3 turret!" The crew, bending to their various tasks in the huge, hurtling eight-engined Navy hydroplane, looked at each other and grinned.
"The Old Man'll get us through," they said to one another. "The Old Man ain't afraid of hell!" . . .

"Not so fast! You're driving too fast!" said Mrs. Mitty. "What are you driving so fast for?"
"Hmm?" said Walter Mitty. He looked at his wife, in the seat beside him, with shocked astonishment. She seemed grossly unfamiliar, like a strange woman who had yelled at him in a crowd. "You were up to fifty-five," she said. "You know I don't like to go more than forty. You were up to fifty-five."

Walter Mitty drove on in silence, the roaring of the SN202 through the worst storm in twenty years of Navy flying fading in the remote, intimate airways of his mind.

Danny42C
9th Apr 2016, 11:35
mikehallam,

There is some Walter Mitty in all of us. Does no harm so long as we don't let it get out of hand - and it adds to the rich spice of life !

We have had them on this Forum from time to time, but they have to be very clever indeed to get past our vastly experienced members !

Danny.

Danny42C
9th Apr 2016, 17:04
mikehallam,
...one cold gray eye...
Perhaps Thurber/Mitty had a memory of:
...cast a cold eye on life, on death, horseman pass by (W.B.Yeats)...
Danny.

Molemot
9th Apr 2016, 17:10
I remember the ferry from Teignmouth to Shaldon...the only thing I've ever found that actually went "Ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa".....

Danny42C
10th Apr 2016, 11:08
Fareastdriver (your #8435) and JENKINS,
... The Hindustan was identical to the 1954 Oxford but so was the 1954 Cowley; it was the engine and fittings that were smaller and cheaper on the Cowley...
Accept unreservedly - it has always been so in the trade. My beloved 1960 Peugeot 403J (the best car of my life) had a "little sister" in the shape of a bargain-basement "403/7" with a 1290 (?) engine instead of the 1468 in mine. Don't think that they sold many to the Forces in RAF(G).

I have an idea that there was a proposal to keep the "Ambassador" production line going with a revamped "Montego", but nothing came of it.

Danny.

Fareastdriver
10th Apr 2016, 15:27
Our Flight Commander came up to us.

“Briefing in my room; six o’clock.”

We did not have a lot of time to think about it. Six o’clock came and we all crowded into Les’s room and waited for the news. Les didn’t beat around the bush.
“Gentlemen, The Javelins have been posted to Singapore.”
The rumble of surprise around the room from people who had been used to the Air Force springing surprises for generations was apparent.
“The confrontation between Malaysia and Indonesia has been trickling on but the Indonesians are now starting to paratroop into Malaysia at night and there is a requirement for more night interceptors. The most obvious are Javelins, and the ones here are the first choice because they are just around the corner. As they are now finished in India we are going to tank them to Singapore. We will launch on Tuesday, it is going to be a very busy day so I expect everybody to be fully up to it. The Javelins now belong to the Far East Air Force and they have told them to be on station and operational between Sumatra and Malaysia by six a.m., tomorrow, Singapore time, because that’s the time when they have dropped them before. A plot has been worked out,” Les continued. “Four aircraft will pick up four Javelins just off the East Coast and tank them all the way. They have four pilots who are OK for night refuelling so they will be flying them. They will be armed with missiles so without underwings they will have to be refuelled twice and then again abeam Butterworth so that they can stay on station for an hours and then land at Tengah.”
He added as an aside. “They had better get the refuels right otherwise they will end up in the oggin. We will take the other four tomorrow.”

There was a Tanker Cell at Marham who’s job it was to work out how to do projects like this and each crew were handed a folder with all the planning details that had been Telexed to the High commission.

“Another thing; don’t pass it around that we are taking them to Singapore. As far as anybody here is concerned you are going back to the UK.”

After dinner we gathered in John’s room and went through the planning for tomorrow. The Javelins were positioning on an Indian AF base near Hydrabad. The refuelling was simple; as we approached the coast the Javelins would be scrambled and vectored on to us by the Indian radar so theoretically we would all meet up together. The Javelins would tag on to us four until just before their Point of No Return and then would be topped up. This would give them nearly enough fuel to get to Butterworth but also a new PNR. Each Javelin also would stick with one tanker to avoid any shuttling time between refuels. The second refuel would be at the new PNR just before the north of Sumatra which would give them enough to reach Tengah. The track was some 200 miles north of Sumatra because Sukarno had recently acquired some Mig 15s and they might come up for a look-see. We would shepherd them until the Malacca Strait and then they were on their own.

Monday morning we lazed by the pool as out compatriots packed up and left to fly the first wave. The only thing of interest was that Juhu airfield was not far away. The very first de Havilland Comet flight into India had landed there by mistake instead of the new Bombay airport. It stopped alright but they had to remove all the seats and some of the remaining fuel so that it could get airborne for the short hop to where it was supposed to be. The approach was just south of the hotel and apart from the normal Dc 3s I saw my one and only Liberator, Indian Navy, on finals.

The next morning the buses pitched up and we all climbed in. The previous day had gone to plan but it was a bit of a waste of time because there had not been any trade for the Javelins. As soon as we got out of the nice part of Bombay we closed all the windows to repel the tapping hands. The poverty hadn’t changed in the last few days but I was not paying any attention to it any more. When we arrived at the airport we found we had to go through customs again because if you bought anything in India you had to pay export duty in foreign currency on it to take it out! One very choked off officer had to pay £16 on a sari, which was more than he had paid for it! I was clean, as were the rest of my crew so we were transported over to our aircraft.

The had found a leak on No3s throttle unit and they had changed it. Unfortunatly there was no way they could do the throttle-slam or matching checks so there would probably a bit of throttle stagger. Bad throttle stagger is a nuisance, the throttles are all over the place for the same power from each engine and it is awkward to synchronise them. At least we weren’t refuelling, that is when it is at its worst. We walked around the aircraft and climbed up to the cockpit. The water-meth truck had just left the last aircraft; we could afford to load that on here and the trusty Roller was steaming towards us to get us going. We only started Nos. 2 and 3, as we were initially only taxiing to refuel. He was right about the throttle stagger; they were two inches apart just getting them up to 6000 rpm to move. There was a bit of difficulty on the hardstanding as the support Britannia was not parked in the ideal place but there was somebody on its wing showing us the vertical separation as ours passed over it. We took the slot nearest the runway and shut it down.

We got out for a breather whilst the refuelling was being done and after a noisy ten minutes all the aircraft had repositioned. Whilst the tanker train was moving down the line we co-pilots all gathered round and worked out the take-off performance. There were no lines or distance-to-go boards on the runway so the IndAF had parked a truck 1,500ft from the rolling point. The taxiway from were we were to the threshold was closed for repair so we would have to backtrack the runway to the last turn-off and loop around the serviceable taxiway; there being just enough room for the four of us. There was 10,000ft available and we were going to use 9,000ft of it to get airborne. The undercarriages were going to come up in a hurry because just off the end of the runway was a squatter’s city. We all confirmed each other’s figures and retired to our respective aircraft.

At the bewitching hour we got the clearance to start together and we all fired up. Everybody checked in and confirmed that they were ready so I called for taxi clearance for all four. “Clear enter and backtrack,” was the reply. A thumbs up from our marshaller and we proceeded off the hardstanding towards the runway. As we reached the turn off for the runway I looked up at the runway approach and shouted,
“STOP!”
There was a Boeing 707 with everything hanging out at about one mile from touchdown. John didn’t ask; he just slammed on the brakes. Behind us the same thing was distracting the two pilots and when they looked forward they were just about to run into the back of us but they stopped with about two feet to spare.

“Hold you position,” from the tower.
That was a bit late, I thought. The 707 touched down and rolled to the end of the runway and as soon as he passed us we were cleared to continue. As we turned back up the runway we speeded up a bit to make up time. The throttle stagger was lousy, the levers were all over the place. We went around the loop and held at the holding point and we could see that all the other aircraft were tucked in out of the way. We were cleared to line up and take off and after a good look up the approach to make sure there were no other surprises we lined up. “

To be continued.

Danny42C
11th Apr 2016, 12:39
Fareastdriver,

What a feast ! Where to start ?
...the Indonesians are now starting to paratroop into Malaysia at night...
So I had got the right war, after all (at last !)
...As they are now finished in India...
What exactly were the Javelins supposed to do there ?
...and operational between Sumatra and Malaysia by six a.m., tomorrow...

...They will be armed with missiles...

... Sukarno had recently acquired some Mig 15s and they might come up for a look-see...
Things seem to be hotting-up nicely. Did anything happen and what would the ROE have been if it had ?
...The very first de Havilland Comet flight into India had landed there by mistake instead of the new Bombay airport...
Happened many a time, by all accounts,
...The poverty hadn’t changed in the last few days but I was not paying any attention to it any more...
Same for everybody - after the first great culture-shock, you very quickly took India in your stride.
...if you bought anything in India you had to pay export duty in foreign currency on it to take it out!..
Seems a poor way to encourage exports - the general idea is to levy import duty on stuff coming in ! (and I was fleeced coming back from RAF(G) for a sewing machine and Mrs D's gold watch).
...As we reached the turn off for the runway I looked up at the runway approach and shouted, “STOP!”...
:eek::eek::eek::eek: ! Just as well you did ! (Shades of Tenerife 1977 - the worst disaster in aviation history).
...There was a Boeing 707 with everything hanging out at about one mile from touchdown...

...“Hold you position,” from the tower. That was a bit late, I thought...
Bloody criminal, I call that ! What was Local Controller thinking about ? That 707 must have been on approach for minutes - and NOW he tells you !) Had I been the Watch Boss, he would have been out of his seat and chucked down the Tower steps for good measure.
... and after a good look up the approach to make sure there were no other surprises...
Can't blame you. Glad there was no ATC in India in my time - you looked after yourself.

Keep it rolling, this is fine.

Danny.

Xercules
11th Apr 2016, 15:07
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/Ac%20Landing_zps7atkemm3.png

http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/Ac%20stopped_zpszwtfgjfb.png

The 2 pictures here are part of my father-in-law's history in the Fleet Air Arm. I think they may have been wartime pictures and could even be on an Arctic Convoy. He was an aircraft artificer (electrical I think) initially, joining the service in 1937 or 8 and then latterly was commissioned but that was post war. He served on various carriers in the Atlantic, Mediterranean and Far East.

The question is what is this aircraft shown. Any help please.

PS I have obviously screwed up with the pictures although the URLs will show them. I will try again

kenparry
11th Apr 2016, 15:19
The question is what is this aircraft shown. Any help please.


Looks to be a Grumman Avenger

Xercules
11th Apr 2016, 15:26
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/Ac%20Landing_zps7atkemm3.png
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/Ac%20Landing_zps7atkemm3.png

CoffmanStarter
11th Apr 2016, 15:30
Well played Xercules :D

Could be a Grumman Wildcat given the undercarriage config ?

http://s.hswstatic.com/gif/grumman-f4f-wildcat-1.jpg

Image Credit : Unknown

papajuliet
11th Apr 2016, 15:59
Wildcat [named Martlet when it first entered service with the FAA] without any doubt.

Xercules
11th Apr 2016, 16:19
This is what should have been the second picture.

http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/Ac%20stopped_zpszwtfgjfb.png

Fareastdriver
11th Apr 2016, 18:06
Personally I think the bloke in the white vest in the first picture is running the wrong way.

MPN11
11th Apr 2016, 18:15
Grumman F6F Hellcat, folks. Surely?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grumman_F6F_Hellcat


Coff ... your u/c ID capability is down ... please reboot eyeballs.

CoffmanStarter
11th Apr 2016, 18:42
MPN11 ... Sorry old chap, my money is still on the Wildcat ;)

Have a look at the image further down your Wiki URL link re the Hellcat u/c config.

MPN11
11th Apr 2016, 19:23
Wildcat, with all the gubbins to make it retract into the lower fuselage? Oh, perhaps you're right! Bugger! It looked too 'boxy' for a Wildcat and that 2nd picture hid all the 'bit and pieces' until I zoomed.!

May I claim the Calvados Exemption? :(

As to which Sqn ... well, that could take some Googling!

ian16th
11th Apr 2016, 19:35
Grumman Avengers required 140 octane fuel!

Not a lot of us RAF types know that, but we couldn't supply 140 at Orange. When we had a FAA Sqdn drop in, it caused problems.

CoffmanStarter
11th Apr 2016, 19:38
Exemption granted MPN11 ... Provided you pour me a glass :ok:

MPN11
11th Apr 2016, 19:55
Any time you're in Jersey, Coff :)

Fareastdriver
11th Apr 2016, 20:00
I advanced the throttles and balanced them at 8,000 rpm. There were about two inches between Nos. 1 and 3 levers.
“Full power!” I declared and John called that he was rolling. Five seconds later I switched on the water meth. and with gratitude saw the engines run up to 8,300 rpm. We started to career down the runway and then the cockpit started to lurch up and down with the undulations of the runway. It was uncomfortable but not alarming and everything was staying in its rightful place. As we passed our truck I called “up two” and then we hit a massive bump that nearly had the nosewheel off the ground. I was being thrown back and forth as it got worst and the throttles were backing off in sympathy. I couldn’t hold them all forward with one hand, it wasn’t big enough so I had to unlock my parachute box on my seat so that I could lean forward and use both hands. I was now too low to see outside and as my shoulders had nothing to brace themselves against I was having to shove a leg against the cockpit wall and my backside into my seat. As we reached the safety speed I called “Safety”

That’s when the water meth failed and we lost 4,000lbs of thrust.

For us it wasn’t a problem. This had practised in the simulator many times but you could feel the panic in the back. As we were past safety speed we could continue losing 11,000 lbs of thrust so 4,000 wasn’t a problem. I concentrated on the throttles and ASI and at 120 I called “Rotate”.and John almost snatched the control column back. The nosewheel came off and two massive lurches later the aircraft was airborne. I returned to my normal position and looked forward. Christ! We weren’t going over the shantytown; we were going through it. A flash of a white glove as John hit the undercarriage switch. I looked at the ASI, 142 knots and it wasn’t moving. We were now just clearing the shacks and I noticed that nobody looked up; this must happen all the time. The gear was retracting and the ASI responded by going up to150.

The panic was now over as we settled into the climb and when the flap was retracted I pulled the engines back to 7,800 rpm. There were similar experiences but no disasters from the other three and soon we were flying across the seemingly arid expanses of Central India probably because it was October and all the rice had turned brown. The scenery didn’t seem to change a lot as we approached the coast. There was non-stop evidence of human habitation but no greenery and no water. The radios were starting to chatter now. We were in contact with the East coast radar and once we had established that everything was going to plan we asked the Indian controllers to launch the Javelins.

As we crossed the coast we heard the plaintive cry of their leader come up on the tanker frequency. Fifteen minutes later we could see the distant contrails of the Javelins as they headed for a point in front of us. I caught the glint of a canopy in the far distance and at the same time the Javelins called that they were visual with us. There was a flurry of deltas as the Javelins joined up and all of a sudden it was like Piccadilly Circus.

We had split up into two wide pairs and the Javelins split up so that there was one of them behind each one of us. It was some time before their P.N.R. so there wasn’t much to do except look at the Bay of Bengal. It was deserted from horizon to horizon so if you were floating about in a dinghy without a radio you could be there for months. Fifteen minutes before their PNR we all streamed our hoses and they took 6.500 lbs. each. It wasn’t worth retracting our hoses for the twenty minutes before the next refuel so they stayed in line astern until we topped them up again. The second refuelling was completed and shortly after with thanks and promises to buy us lots of beer they accelerated onwards and upwards to Tengah.

About thirty mile to run we started out descent to Butterworth. The Royal Australian Air Force was the main user so the antipodeans’ voice of the controller welcomed us onto the frequency. The clear waters of Penang Strait, the rush of palm trees underneath us, the four Sabres on readiness and we touched down. Operation Shiksha was over.

There was lots of beating of gums about the water meth failure when we shut down. It was established that the new throttle unit on No3 had a leak on the water meth. circuit and had thrown Godknowshowmuch overboard which is why we ran out so quickly.

RAAF Butterworth was host to a Sabre squadron equipped with the Australian built Canadair version. The other major element was an Australian military hospital which looked after their personnel in that part of the world. Rumour was that if somebody caught a contagious disease that would prevent them from returning to Australia they would just let them die there. In the far corner of the pan was a small RAF Search and Rescue unit still using wooden-bladed Sycamores, apparently they had some real horror stories with blades getting unstuck. The airfield had been there for some time but had only been built up a few years before so all the buildings were modern, as opposed to the stations in Singapore.

With the time difference it was getting late afternoon so I had a shower and changed into civvies. RAAF mess rules were very strict. Long socks had to be worn with shorts during the day and after seven o’clock long sleeves and slacks were mandatory; no thongs and singlets here. Tiger beer was the diet and I soon developed a taste for it. The rest of my crew came in and by the time dinner was ready the place was full of Valiant aircrew so we outnumbered the resident Australians three to one. Dinner was incredible, my steak was two inches thick, and so suitably refuelled we retired back to the bar.
I was starting to tick when one of the other co-pilots tapped me on the shoulder. “We’re going to Georgetown. Want to come?”
I looked searchingly at John, after all I was now on his crew and we should stay together.
He flicked his head. “Off you go, have a good time.”

Also involved was another co-pilot and we three, the only bachelors on the detachment went to the main gate and got into a taxi. They had been to Butterworth twice before so he knew the score. As we drove away flashing lights and a hushed drone announced the arrival of our ground party’s Britannia. I didn’t know where Georgetown was; I was more interested in the runway when we arrived so I was surprised when the taxi stopped at a small group of buildings.
“Is this it?” I asked as they paid off the taxi.
“No, it’s over there,” he pointed at the lights of a town the other side of the water. “It’s in Penang. We get the ferry here.”

It was one Malay dollar to get on board. I suddenly realised that I didn’t have any Malayan money with me but they said I could get some over the other side. The ferry was a twin deck car ferry with the seating upstairs. As the ramp was pulled up there was a thrashing noise as the paddle wheels started up and we were on our way. It was all open sided so the cool breeze blowing through during the twenty minutes or so it took to cross. The ferry rammed into the ramp and the half dozen passengers got off. A line of trishaws awaited us. The rear half was that of a bicycle and the front consisted of a small sofa with a canopy and wheels either side. Their English was presentable and Brian negotiated three at a dollar each.
We got in to our respective trishaws and my host waved a five-dollar note in the air and shouted. “This is for the winner, and we were off.
Luckily Brian had told them were to go because I hadn’t a clue. My pedaller was either a demented idiot or very impoverished because he was definitely after the five dollars. We went hurling round corners on the wrong side, cutting up cars, bicycles and other trishaws. He was grunting and groaning as he threw in even more effort down the straights. Being in the front if he hit anything I was going to be the first to arrive at the accident. At last we turned into a gravelled drive and I read a sign saying ‘Runnymede Hotel’ as it flashed by my ear. We slithered to a halt outside a colonnaded entrance and nanoseconds later my two companions arrived. We coughed up the fares, but not having a podium handy the presentation to my winning driver had to be fairly informal and we went inside.

The Runnymede was a leave centre run for the British officers and their families in Malaya and Singapore. At one time the Japanese used it for the same purpose. It was all built in pre-war style with lots of teak finishing. In the lobby I changed a fiver for thirty five Malay dollars so I was now financially independent. The bar was deserted as they were all putting their kids to bed, so we got ourselves a beer each and they discussed where a good place to go to. I didn’t have a choice not knowing the place but they had it already sorted.
“I know the place; it’s just around the corner. Going tonight will be a good idea because tomorrow it will be full of airmen,” referring to our support Britannia arriving.
He looked at his watch, it was half past eight. “It doesn’t get going until nine so we can wait till then.

“The hour has come.” They announced. “Drink up and let’s go.”
We sank our beers and headed off.
“This is the road,”
I looked up at the street sign, Love Lane. We turned down the lane with them searching for the right house.
“This is it.”
It was a three-storey house built in European style with a stone porch on the front. All the windows were closed and there were no lights to be seen. I was confused, the place looked empty.
“The door’s round the side; follow me.”
We trooped after him and around the rear corner was a wooden door. We knocked and a peephole opened to ascertain who was there. A bolt was drawn back and a very big Malay opened it for us. Once we were in he had a quick scan outside and locked it again. We went though another door and into the bar that had no other customers but us and was decorated with a dozen Chinese and Malay girls. It was a brothel!

I was not personally into this scene. However I was with these two so the least I could do was to stay with them, running away would have exposed me as a wimp. We sat down at a table and they organised the round. The girls were obviously discussing whose turn it was to lead the attack so as soon as the beers were placed on the table three of them came over. Mine was a plumpish Malay girl of about twenty who was already showing signs of sagging and judging by her backside as she sat on my lap she could really have gone on a diet programme. I wasn’t choosy, so I put up with it but another of us pushed his away and flicked his fingers at another girl who was more to his taste. A pout and a smile and they changed over. I was half way through my first sip and she already had her hand between my thighs. She had a foreplay technique that resembled a bulldozer, in fact it hurt!
I pushed it away. “I’m only here for the beer,” I said, “so you’re wasting your time.”
She was undeterred, “Buy me a drink.”
She’s got to earn a living somehow, I thought, so I signalled the barmen to come over. He knew what she wanted so he poured her a Crème de Menthe and brought it over. I tried to make some conversation but it was a bit of a failure. She didn’t have a lot of , one hundred dollars was the rate for the night and only twenty for a short time. That seemed to be her only subject. Anyway it was quite pleasant to have a girl, even though she smelt a bit, crawling all over you whilst you were having a few beers.

After an hour or so the rate had dropped to fifty for the night but still stood at twenty for a short time. Presumably as the night wore on the discount improved. I was getting bored with her and I suggested that we should go. The other agreed and we paid the bill. It was $85, of which most was for the Crème de Menthe. I fronted up thirty, which effectively cleaned me out and as we stood up to leave I turned and picked up the glass that mine had not finished and tasted it, it was green water. We had been taken for a ride. As we went out we all put it down to experience and went back to the Runnymede to finish off and change enough money to get back to the ferry and taxi.

After breakfast; the first priority was money and it had been arranged that at nine-thirty we would all go along to the RAF admin section and pick up our LOA for three days. On that basis alone we knew we were going to be here for that long. Most of the squadron were not happy about it because it was costing them money. Married personnel received ration allowance for living in quarters or private accommodation, 7/6 a day. Once on a detachment this ceased and 7/6 was a fair whack. As a single flying officer living in the mess I was only on £45 a month which was less than sergeant aircrew were getting. I was quite happy with the LOA, as I was better off on a detachment. At 0930 hrs we were all in admin and picked up our LOA. Mine came to M$45 so I resolved never to go back to Love Lane again otherwise I would be totally broke

Three days LOA I got and then it was decided that the first crew who had flown in the Britannia to Bahrain would take our aircraft back, so I flew backwards all the way to the UK.

Finis

Xercules
12th Apr 2016, 14:22
Thank you to those who have replied giving a choice between Grumman Avenger, Hellcat or Wildcat. Further information and photos have now appeared (you must understand that I am working at arms length on this).

My Father-in- Law was drafted to HMS Nairana in July 1944 until May 45. Nairana was launched in May 43 and was converted from a commercial ship into an escort carrier to be commissioned in Dec 43. She joined Russian convoy JW61 sailing on 20 Oct 44. At that time Nairana had 835 NAS aboard and was equipped with 14 Swordfish IIIs and 6 Wildcat VIs. This would seem to resolve the discussion and the crashing ac is a Wildcat. The censor on the back dates the 2 photos as 14 March 1945.

Other photos from the same draft are:
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/IMG_0039_zpsdseyrbyi.jpg
also dated 14 Mar 45
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/IMG_0052_zpsma0tztjp.jpg
Comment on the back "HMS Nairana, Russian convoy, Most rough" Censor date 22 Mar 45
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/IMG_0157%202_zpsi4grzcjj.jpg
"Crashed on deck, Nairana 1945"
http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r562/xercules1/IMG_0098_zpsjpgkqgl0.jpg
"and shipping off the Norwegian coast. Ranging the first strike, January 1945" but Censor dates it Feb 45.

As far as I can find out at present Nairana did 3 Russian convoys over this period. If anybody knows anything more I would be glad to hear.

MPN11
12th Apr 2016, 14:30
That is some heaving flight deck. I assume nobody was trying to fly in that? Although, I suspect they still did, because "There's a War on".

Awesome stuff.

Xercules
12th Apr 2016, 15:59
They may not have been flying despite there "being a war on".

"The return convoy RA 64 left Kola Inlet on the morning of 17 February. One of the escorts and a merchant ship were torpedoed almost immediately. Another merchant ship was torpedoed that afternoon. Terrible weather conditions kept all aircraft grounded until 20 February. When it began to clear, the Luftwaffe also appeared and the Wildcats were scrambled to intercept them."

But, then again, it may have been those conditions which led to some of these pictures.

CoffmanStarter
12th Apr 2016, 16:07
Great pics Xercules :ok:

Without giving too much away ... I'm sure our good friend RNHF_PILOT will find your pics most interesting ;)

835 NAS Wiki History (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/835_Naval_Air_Squadron)

FAA Archive 835 NAS (http://www.fleetairarmarchive.net/squadrons/835.html)

Best ...

Coff.

esa-aardvark
13th Apr 2016, 03:34
re: Fareastdrive & his Brothel visit.
Love lane, Georgetown. Funnily enough I rented a house in Love lane
for about 6 weeks about 5 years ago. Must be the same street.

kghjfg
13th Apr 2016, 06:14
I am sure that many others read this thread avidly without anything to add, as I do. So I just wanted to say "Thankyou" for the thread, because otherwise us avid readers are invisible!

Danny42C
13th Apr 2016, 10:13
Fareastdriver (your #8456),
...That’s when the water meth failed and we lost 4,000lbs of thrust...
Knowing next to nothing about multi-engined aviation, does "safety speed" have anything in common with V1 ? I can imagine a situation in a heavily loaded aircraft where losing 4,000 lbs of thrust on take-off would be a serious matter.
...but you could feel the panic in the back...
I'm not surprised !
...“Off you go, have a good time.”...
Doesn't sound much of a good time to me. The mixture of "single men in barricks" (Kipling) and the "Sex Workers" (as we now must learn to call them) has always caused trouble in the armed forces. In my day in India, the M.O.s regularly lectured us. Most took the pragmatic view that their audience would divide into three groups: the first were the incorrigibles, who were deaf to advice and warning, and would go after "tail" whenever and wherever it was on offer. Mind you, that would only be in the towns where there were settled camps. In the rural villages near the jungle "kutcha" strips, never in their worst nightmares would even they be tempted !

At the other extreme were those who, from upbringing, religious conviction or sheer aversion to the whole sordid business, would remain continent whatever happened. This left the greater bulk of the undecided, and the good doctors concentrated on them. They were armed with sets of truly terrifying photographs of the possible consequences of a "night out" - and remember, that in those pre-penicillin days, cure was by no means quick, easy or comfortable.

To round off an unappetising subject, there was an apocryphal story of a Colonel who, in the absence of his M.O., decided to deliver the oration himself. After a few preliminary harrumphs, he started off: "It has come to my notice that some of you men have been putting your private parts where I would not put the ferrule of my walking stick......."
...We had been taken for a ride...
'Fraid so. Could have been worse.
...As a single flying officer living in the mess I was only on £45 a month...
As a single Flight Lieutenant (with Flying Pay) I was on only £45 a month as late as early 1955, before I married and it went up to about £65. We set up house on that.
...Finis...
I do hope not ! (at least, not for good ! - there must be lots more in the pot, FED).

Danny.

Danny42C
13th Apr 2016, 11:05
Could I put in a gentle bleat to all our contributors about the ideal length of a Post ? When I started, some 4½ years ago, I modelled myself on the "Greats" of the Thread (Cliff and Reg, both sadly no longer with us), and noted that their offerings were about 1,000 - 1,500 words long on average, and tried to stick around that.

Any longer, and the Post tends to overwhelm the reader with interesting points, and as any one of these has the potential to arouse a flurry of questions and comments - the "crewroom" natter which is the lifeblood of this great Thread - others, equally interesting and deserving of discussion, get lost in the crowd.

A good example, FED, is your absorbing Post #8441, from which I picked out nine "hares" to set running - none of which has caught the doggie's eye.* It was a simple case of overkill.

Note *: Except one: MPN11 kindly responded to my:
...Quote:
...As they are now finished in India...
What exactly were the Javelins supposed to do there ?..

but I cannot find his reply to me (unless his #21 [on the "Master Pilot" Thread - on which I first put my #8442 by stupid mistake, and had to take it down, and put it where it belonged -here] constitutes the reply). Anyway, sorry, MPN11, and what were the Javelins doing in India, after all. Poking our noses into a quarrel which was none of our business ? (we're rather good at that).

None of the above should be construed as a limit to the right of any contributor to Post as much, and however, as he/she damn' well likes (subject always to our Moderators). Merely a suggestion. Remember - always leave them wanting more !

Danny.

Danny42C
13th Apr 2016, 11:45
kghjfg (your #8452),
Thank you for your kind words of appreciation for this, our Prince of Threads - as we think.
...us avid readers are invisible!..
But not inaudible ! Come on in, the water's fine ! Pull up a chair (if you can find one), and give the stove a poke. Tea's on the brew.

Enquire Within Upon Everything,

Danny.

Danny42C
13th Apr 2016, 12:46
MPN11 and Fareastdriver (Post #8220 on this Thread, and my Post #8464),

What's the matter with my memory ? (all right, all right, I know!)
...I went into the hall and picked up the phone. It was my flight commander.
“How would you like to go to India?”
“India!” I gasped. “What an earth for?”
“You know this nonsense that the Chinese and Indians are having about their border region. They’re sending out a squadron of Javelins to show Commonwealth solidarity...
and
... “The Chinese and Indian governments are in dispute over their border in the Himalayas. This has given rise to fisticuffs and now they are beating bigger drums. The Indian Air Force has no all-weather fighter capability so the government, as a sign of support, are detaching 23 Squadron to India until the dispute is settled...
and
...The Indians have a few Mig21s but it is predominately Hunters, Gnats, with a couple of dozen Canberras. The Chinese air force was almost all Mig17s with IL28s as their bombing force. In other words, if the weather is bad only the Javelins will be able to fly...
So that's all right, then ? (it's the kind of war I like)...:ok:

Danny.

Danny42C
13th Apr 2016, 12:54
Xercules (your #8457),

Wonderful pics ! (glad I didn't join the Navy !)

Heaven help the Sailors on a night like this !

Danny.

Fareastdriver
13th Apr 2016, 14:23
Danny; safety speed equals V2. V1 means there is not enough runway left to stop. Nowadays all multi-engine aircraft reach V2 before V1 so between those two speeds there is a choice. Not then; there could be some time where you were in trouble either way.

Those posts took some time because they came out of a book I once wrote. Shiksha was such an unusual exercise that I decide that it would make a good subject. I started writing it in 1994 when it was only thirty years ago so it was fairly sharp in the memory banks. I doubt if I could remember it now.

Whilst I was in China in the nineties I had a fair amount of free time. Laptops had become affordable in Hong Kong and I bought one of the first Windows 95 products. Eventually Office 97 came along and two weeks later I bought a pirated copy in Mok Kok for HK$25.

The story started off as purely a technical narrative with loads of fact and figures plus a rundown on all the techniques used. This got a bit boring after a time so I deleted all the technical stuff and threw in the opposite sex. It then went from fact to fiction with a factual base. Reading my posts on this thread, believe me, you ain’t seen nutting. It was a bit like Sex and the Stratosphere.

I thought about publishing it but the costs were too much. Should I have sent it to a book publisher it would have to be proofed. A proof reader requires it double spaced which would have lengthened it to 500 pages at £1/page. Self publishing was just as expensive and there was no shortage of aviation books so it would be against a lot of competition. Finally I sent proof copies to some acquaintances and the reaction was not encouraging, if at all.

The commentary on Shiksha for this thread involved a lot of cut & paste and remembering not the facts, but the fiction, and deleting it. As a guide when I reached the point where I stopped in Butterworth I was on page 42. From then on the book is total fiction.

Even for the above posts I have used the fictitious names of my captain and others as they may still be alive and I feel I should not use their names without their knowledge.

All books have to have and ending. I thought about riding into the sunset or living happily ever after with a beautiful heiress but I let it end the way I thought it would end when I joined the RAF. Ted is the captain; I am Chris.

Quote:

It’s a thirty minute flight to Rougham and I was already planning the strategy for Sridevi. Two week’s leave? I could get a flat for that time in London. I knew there were short term rents and I could afford it. It’s not to get her into bed or anything like that, I didn’t want to, but at least we could be alone. My thoughts were interrupted as we went through the descent checks.

We established on the ILS at 2,000ft.and as we came to the glide path Ted called for forty degrees flap. I watched the indicators and as they reached forty degrees I stopped the flap and confirmed forty flap. There was a bang behind us. The main door’s popped, I thought, and I craned round to look. The door was still on and crew were all looking up at the top of the coal face. I turned back to check the instruments. Christ! We had forty degrees of bank on.
“Help me Chris! I can’t hold it.” Ted had the controls hard over.
There was nothing I could do except hold it with him against the stops. I saw the altimeter unwinding through a thousand feet.
Ted saw it too. “Abandon Aircraft! Eject Eject!”
I don’t believe this, it can’t be happening. Years of training came in. Automatically I pulled the canopy jettison handle; there was a rattle around my ears as the explosive bolts blew. It was now suddenly very bright in the cockpit. I reached up for the ejection blind; it was flapping so it took two goes to find it. Three bangs as the seat fired with a crack from the drogue gun and a tug as my legs were pulled together. There is no sense of acceleration, my eyes are looking down and I could see the aircraft rushing away below me. A jerk as the drogue stabilised the seat and then I felt the seat harness release. At the same time the seat ejection blind came free and I could look around.
Christ! That’s a five barred gate.

End of quote.

From the Board of Enquiry:

The Co-pilot.

The co-pilot was found in a face down position suffering death through multiple internal injuries and fractures as a result of impacting the ground at high speed. His ejector seat was on the ground 25 ft away. Inspection revealed that the seat had gone through its correct sequence and had released the pilot. It had then deployed the parachute drogue and this in turn had released the canopy from the pack. There was insufficient height to deploy the parachute and when the co-pilot struck the ground some of the canopy shroud line loops had not been extracted.

As you probably realise the rest of the crew didn’t do very well either.

At least I don’t have to write a sequel.

When the Valiants folded I went on to helicopters where I learned to fly from 0 to 95 instead of 95 to M0.8. Then I went off to North Boneo.

Stanwell
13th Apr 2016, 15:49
Excellent stuff, FED.
I, for one, was savouring every detail of that Valiant saga.

In the spirit of crew-room chat, as mentioned by Danny above, I noticed your mention of the RAAF Sabres on your arrival at Butterworth.
The Australian CAC CA-27 Sabre was a somewhat different animal to the Canadair CL-13 version in that it was significantly modified to take the RR Avon powerplant.
Later marks of the Canadair Sabre were similarly modified to take the Avro Canada Orenda engine.

Compared with the original GE J-47 powered F-86 and CL-13, these modified aircraft offered an approximate 40% improvement in performance.
The Oz version, also, was armed with 2 x 30mm Aden cannon as opposed to the others' 6 x .50cal machine guns.
I'll leave it to the experts to speculate on the relative merits of the Orenda vs the Avon.

Walter603
15th Apr 2016, 04:32
Came July 1943, and an invading Armada built up in the Mediterranean. On the 9th of the month, our Squadron was sent out to support the invasion of Sicily. Becoming airborne in the dark, I was over the invasion fleet at dawn. The morning was very hot and very hazy, but on arrival at our allotted position, I was amazed to see the uncountable number of ships below me, and stretching to the horizon it seemed, to the northwards.

We patrolled for some hours, while the armada approached the Sicilian south coast. Paratroops and gliders had been sent in before dawn, and the infantry battalions with all their support were going in to land from the ships below me. It was a very exciting day. There was absolutely no aerial activity apart from our own. I saw no opposing enemy aircraft, although I was expecting that German or Italian planes would hove into view.

We continued our support for the invasion over some days, and eventually received the order to strike camp (pack up everything) and move over to the conquered island of Sicily. I haven't the faintest recollection of how the ground staff and the vast array of equipment was assembled and moved. No doubt it was by sea. We air crew flew our aircraft across the Mediterranean Sea, and we began operations against Italy, from a base we called Borizzo, or Castel Vetrano, on the western side of Sicily.

In no time at all it seemed, the whole Squadron was re-assembled at the base, which was shared by the Royal Air Force and the United States Army Air Force. They were operating with Flying Fortresses, bombing the mainland. We were nicely placed geographically, between Trapani and Marsala. Both were quite large country towns a few miles off, and we were eager to taste the joys of civilisation, after being so long in the desert.

There was an abundance of wine in this grape-producing island, and it wasn't long before we were tasting the beautiful stuff. A little wine-shop not far north of our base, on the way to Trapani, and just at the side of the road, was our first port of call. Here we slurped on the luscious, sweet wines of the area, mainly Marsala, of course, which obtained its name from the other town down in the south.

Later, we visited both of the towns, admired the architecture and the rustic quaintness of them, and tried the local cafes for food. The latter wasn't necessary, really, as we luckily found ourselves catered for by the Americans. Our eyes nearly popped when we saw the wealth of the food put out for us in our tented messes. There was real butter in 7-pound tins, peanut butter in the same quantities, jam, wonderful sausages, white, white bread, vegetables and meats galore, eggs, bacon, and a host of other good things.

We were even more amazed when we found that we received regular issues of cigarettes, pipe tobacco, chewing tobacco, toothpaste, razor blades, shaving cream, chewing gum, etc. We wondered why on earth it was necessary for the Yankee serviceman to be paid. He had everything given him, and received more pay than a British serviceman of similar rank, into the bargain!

Danny42C
15th Apr 2016, 11:24
Walter,

So you've come out of the desert, and reached the "Land of Milk and Honey" ! (make the most of it, for it probably won't last very long !)
... Our eyes nearly popped when we saw the wealth of the food put out for us in our tented messes...
Our reactions, too, when we left strictly rationed Britain in '41 to meet, first the Canadian and then the American hospitality of the Deep South. In Florida and Alabama we, who had hitherto shuffled slowly along a queue of airmen, mugs and "irons" at the ready, to have something slapped on our plates in the Cookhouse, now sat astounded as we were deftly served by white-jacketed waiters - and we didn't have do do any washing-up, either !
...We were even more amazed when we found that we received regular issues of cigarettes, pipe tobacco, chewing tobacco, toothpaste, razor blades, shaving cream, chewing gum, etc...
I have noted before how the attitude of the good folk of the US towards their Services differs from ours. They start with the principle: their fighting men must have the best that money can buy (we tend to the opposite view).
...He had everything given him, and received more pay than a British serviceman of similar rank, into the bargain!..
Which gave rise to the unworthy wartime slur: "They're overfed, overpaid, oversexed - and Over Here !" As a matter of fact, I've been told that the RCAF rates of pay (overseas) were even higher than the US, but don't know if it's true.

Never got any free pipe tobacco from them, but they were alongside us at Geilenkirchen in the early '60s, and would sell me # a pound tin of "Robin Hood" tobacco, rather light stuff, but blended beautifully with, and eked out the "Balkan Sobranie" of which I was inordinately fond.
EDIT: # ...for only Dm4 (yes, four Marks !) :ok:

And of course, you'd have a PX (that Aladdin's Cave) to go to - you could forget the NAAFI and its pitiful, overpriced items.

War is Hell (but not for everybody, and not all the time).

Danny.

Geordie_Expat
15th Apr 2016, 14:52
I've been told that the RCAF rates of pay (overseas) were even higher than the US, but don't know if it's true.



Danny, it was true in the early 1970's when I was in HQAFCENT in NL. The Americans were very quick to put us Brits right if we mentioned pay rates.

GlobalNav
15th Apr 2016, 15:52
Danny ("I have noted before how the attitude of the good folk of the US towards their Services differs from ours. They start with the principle: their fighting men must have the best that money can buy (we tend to the opposite view).")

I wonder if provisions for British senior officers were also austere?

To all the fighting men - British, Commonwealth and American - come visit my home town and I'll make sure you can have all the beer, butter, eggs, bacon, steak etc. you like. But your money won't be any good here at all.

Danny42C
15th Apr 2016, 19:48
GlobalNav,
...come visit my home town and I'll make sure you can have all the beer, butter, eggs, bacon, steak etc. you like...
So said your generous, hospitable grandparents (bless them) 70+ years ago - but we were so full of good food from the Mess Hall that we hardly had room for the ice cream and pecan pie when we got to town !

Fortunately we have recovered from wartime austerity, and no longer need "Bundles for Britain" - to the extent that obesity is a major problem here, too. (It is a matter of record that the British people were never so fit as during the war years).
...I wonder if provisions for British senior officers were also austere?...
AFAIK, yes - at least the ones I came in contact with. But we didn't grudge Churchill his cigars and his champagne breakfasts - he was special.
...But your money won't be any good here at all...
It's not much good over here either these days. :(

Danny.

GlobalNav
15th Apr 2016, 20:34
Danny

In spite of how well off we were in the old days, even in the pampered USAF, we often commented that "Nothing is too good for the GI, so that's exactly he gets." But hey, morale must low if no one is complaining.

I agree Churchill was special as were a few others, like Ike, Marshall, Doolittle, etc. the list is too long to name them all. Must admit in this year of presidential elections we could use a few special ones today. Good Lord!

Fareastdriver
16th Apr 2016, 10:17
Must admit in this year of presidential elections we could use a few special ones today. Good Lord!

We have one. She's called Her Majesty the Queen.

No screaming and shouting every four years. No billions of dollars being raised and changing hands at election time.

We also know who is going to be the next one.

Walter603
16th Apr 2016, 10:37
This is the place I spoke of, 3,000 feet high, NW Sicily near Trapani, where we spent time exploring. Four of us stayed in the only hotel we could find, and were actually served eggs for breakfast. Pic is from Google map.

"Superficially, it is the epitome of the Middle Ages, beginning with the castles, walls and stone streets. In reality, it's much older. This singular city, located on a mountain overlooking the Tyrrhenian coast of western Sicily, was ancient Eryx, a prosperous Elymian and Carthaginian city, boasting a well-known temple to a Phoenician fertility goddess, Astarte (later identified with Venus and worshipped by the Romans) and its own eponymous - if mythical - hero, the Elymi ruler Eryx. Both Hercules and Aeneas are associated with ancient Erice. According to Diodorus Siculus, Eryx received Heracles (Hercules) on his visit to this part of Sicily, and lost to him in a wrestling bout. As Eryx would have been a son of Aphrodite and King Butes of the Olympians, Virgil identifies him as a brother of Aeneas.” (goes on much longer)_

http://www.bestofsicily.com/erice2.jpg

Danny42C
16th Apr 2016, 12:18
Walter,

Among the most valuable of our wartime experiences, surely the most long-lasting must be the mental "snapshots" we carry of sudden glimpses of something or someplace so beautiful or so colourful or so impressive, as to stay with us for the rest of our lives. In my case I can cite the huge red, rising sun over the ship's bows as we were running in to Bombay at dawn, and the sight of Nanga Parbat, also at dawn, from Gulmarg in Kashmir.

At 9,000 ft we could look down on the Vale of Kashmir, still shrouded in darkness and full of mist. But 40 miles to the North stood this lone Himalayan giant - seemingly almost close enough to touch in the pure mountain air - with the first rays of the sun lighting the top few thousand feet of the 25,000-footer, as dazzling pink and white as any coconut ice.

Spent over three years in India - but never bothered to go to see - the Taj Mahal. Silly me ! It's in the news today, hope they see it again in moonlight - it's really something then, I'm told.

In your case, the castle of Pepoli must haunt your dreams. In such places must King Arthur and his knights revelled. Sir Walter Scott would have had a field day.
...where we spent time exploring...
With due regard to life and limb, I hope ! (no "elf'n pastry" in those days).
...Aeneas...
Him again ! The bane of my boyhood (and many other boyhoods, I would think). Could never take to the goody-goody prig Pius Aeneas - Caesar ? now that's something else !

Cheers, keep it coming, Danny.

Royalistflyer
16th Apr 2016, 15:44
"RAAF Butterworth was host to a Sabre squadron equipped with the Australian built Canadair version"

Actually two different aircraft. The Australians did their own re-design, using the RR Avon, while the Canadians used the Orenda. Performance was close as you'd expect, but these were different re-designs by different teams at different times.

GlobalNav
17th Apr 2016, 02:59
We have one. She's called Her Majesty the Queen.

No screaming and shouting every four years. No billions of dollars being raised and changing hands at election time.

We also know who is going to be the next one.

Indeed you do. Not exactly the same role of governance of course. Years ago, of course, we took great pains free ourselves from the rule of a monarch and do not regret it. But it didn't keep us from later forming a "special relationship" with Her Majesty's realm which I do not regret either.

MPN11
17th Apr 2016, 09:29
Please excuse a small diversion onto the topic of RAAF Sabres, but you might be interested in some snaps of No 77 Sqn RAAF passing through RAF Tengah on their way home to OZ to re-equip in 1969.

They ran into the circuit as pairs, flew the pattern and landed as pairs, and taxied in as a long stream before performing VERY neat individual turns into line on the main dispersal. A very stylish arrival by what appears to be 16 aircraft. They called themselves "MOGAS" ... Malaysia's Only Ground Attack Squadron :D

http://i319.photobucket.com/albums/mm468/atco5473/PPRuNe%20ATC/MOGAS.jpg (http://s319.photobucket.com/user/atco5473/media/PPRuNe%20ATC/MOGAS.jpg.html)

[I]"And now we return to your normal programmes ... "

Molemot
17th Apr 2016, 11:33
Indeed you do. Not exactly the same role of governance of course. Years ago, of course, we took great pains free ourselves from the rule of a monarch and do not regret it. But it didn't keep us from later forming a "special relationship" with Her Majesty's realm which I do not regret either.
"Geroge the Third ought never to have occurred; One can only wonder, at so grotesque a blunder..."!

Danny42C
17th Apr 2016, 11:39
MPN11,
...Please excuse a small diversion onto the topic of RAAF Sabres...
Of course, you're excused ! The "small diversions" are what has made this Thread the wonderful thing that it has become (aided and abetted by our endlessly tolerant Moderators).
..."And now we return to your normal programmes ... "
This is our normal programme !

Know little about the F-86 Sabre, except that it was a good thing it came into service when it did, at the time of the Korean war. The Meteor was hopelessly outclassed by the Mig-15 (helpfully supplied with state-of-the-art Rolls-Royce engine technology by our Attlee Government). The Hunter was years into the future (indeed, it was said that the Hunter came in too late for any war in which it might have been useful).

Danny.

MPN11
17th Apr 2016, 16:29
The efficient arrival/departure of 77 was subsequently reinforced by a long detachment of Butterworth's Mirages (runway resurfacing) who were extremely professional, efficient and great to work with. Squadron numbers were 3 and 75, IIRC.

However, far too modern and pointy for this thread :)

Stanwell
17th Apr 2016, 16:41
Nice of you to say, MPN.
I know a couple of chaps formerly of 75 and 77 Sqns and I'll let them know of your complimentary remarks. :ok:.


p.s. One of them, (I think he was a Sqn Ldr in the Malaysia days) was nicknamed "Bwana" by the boys.
Seems he, at times, had a little trouble shaking off some proclivities he'd developed during the days when he was
dealing with subordinates of, let's say, a different culture.
.

Danny42C
17th Apr 2016, 20:41
JENKINS,

Touché !

Danny.

kghjfg
18th Apr 2016, 06:52
Rougham?

Did someone mention Rougham ?
I'm learning to fly at Rougham, would be interested in any stories from Rougham. ;-)

I started out at Bourn, there's something about being a student and lining up where Lancasters used to line up. Sometimes it makes you just sit there and think and listen.

Fareastdriver
18th Apr 2016, 09:08
Rougham, just west of Bury St. Edmunds. Here's a link.

RAF Bury St Edmunds airfield (http://www.controltowers.co.uk/B/Bury_St_Edmunds.htm)

Danny42C
18th Apr 2016, 11:04
GlobalNav (your #8480) and Fareastdriver (your #8476),
... we took great pains free ourselves from the rule of a monarch...
So did we (in 1649), when King Charles I was parted from his head, and the Supremacy of Parliament thereby put beyond further argument.
The trouble was when King and Parliament were of like mind, and that combined mind was unsound.
It was so in the late 18th Century. It has always intrigued me that American history of that era is taught as a straight fight between the villainous British and their brutal Redcoats, and the noble American colonists. In fact, of course, it was a civil war, with one lot of Brits fighting another lot of Brits who happened to have colonised the eastern states of the present US.

Why had we not introduced an idea like the later French one, who treated their colonies as "Départements d'outre mer" of Metropolitan France, and had their representatives in the French Assembly ? The cry of "No taxation without representation" would never have arisen, much bad blood would not have been spilt and (who knows ?) we might now have a huge English-speaking North American Dominion from Alaska to Mexico. But it was not to be.

Wiki has a comprehensive account of the relations between "mad" George III and his ministers, I tried to wade through it until I lost the will to live.

In my limited experience, the best way to explain our Royal Family to our transatlantic cousins is to say that it means to us what Old Glory means to you.

Fareastdriver,
...No screaming and shouting every four years...
Five in our case.
...We also know who is going to be the next one...
Charles is 67 now, the Queen is 90 and going strong - and her mother made 101 !

There is a body of opinion which suggests, that as Charles may be well into his 70s when he inherits, he should then immediately abdicate in favour of William. It is possible (Edward VIII did it). I would support such a move, and think it would be popular.

Danny42C.

MPN11
18th Apr 2016, 11:27
There is a body of opinion which suggests, that as Charles may be well into his 70s when he inherits, he should then immediately abdicate in favour of William. It is possible (Edward VIII did it). I would support such a move, and think it would be popular.
There may well be a 'body of opinion', but that's not how it works! And I suggest strongly that the sad case of Edward VIII was a one-off aberration, not a justification for random abdications that run contrary to the established line of succession. Prince Charles may indeed become an old [and brief] King ... or he may not: his father still seems to be going well. To suggest that because he may be in his 70s he should abdicate the throne in favour of Prince William is so outrageously ageist that I'm surprised you subscribe to it!! :ooh:

Of course, the tabloid Press would prefer pictures of a virile young King* and his pretty young Queen. Well, that's their bloody problem! It will be Charles and Camilla, whether they like it or not :mad:

* Whatever next? Abdicate on the grounds of baldness? :) :)

mikehallam
18th Apr 2016, 15:46
Quite right MPN11,

Charles has waited long enough and his natural ascendancy with a due term as king would allow his son & family respite to be with their own children as they grow up.

[Rather than nannies 100% of the time and/or push them off boarding school at far too young an age].

Anyway it's a pity they don't really rule England to regain our Sovereignty. Instead we have politicians (chameleons) who are all short termists and dreadfully poor on strategy.

mike hallam.

(Spring promises, but the Sussex airstrip is still soft: flew to Sandown - luckily I've 16 years advantage over Danny).

GlobalNav
18th Apr 2016, 17:54
ROFL

Amazing how a thread about earning and employing RAF pilot's brevets has momentarily turned to commentary on various forms and failures of democracy. Reminds me of that quote by Churchill after losing his keys to 10 Downing Street after the war. Scares me who might gain the keys to the White House this time around. Actually I blame it on the apathetic electorate not taking advantage of the hard won freedoms that made participatory government available. Beware, we can lose what we don't treasure and exercise.

Danny42C
18th Apr 2016, 17:54
I stand suitably abashed !

Danny.

MPN11
18th Apr 2016, 18:39
Danny42C ... I would offer you a hug, but a cyber glass of port might suffice ;)


... Meanwhile, "There's a War on, you know!" Back [as usual] to the topic that our elder brethren keep us endlessly entertained and informed with. Politics [and indeed Royalty] has no place in the Crewroom ... unless serving/served, of course, Your Royal Highness, Your Royal Highness <grovel><grovel> :D

Nugget90
19th Apr 2016, 08:38
Just catching up on this thread! Whilst on exchange with No 36 Squadron RAAF (C130A) I flew up to Townsville from Richmond for the Air Display where I photographed this line-up of RAAF Sabres of No 76 Squadron in the Autumn of 1965.

Danny42C
19th Apr 2016, 09:02
MPN11,
... I would offer you a hug, but a cyber glass of port might suffice...
Indeed it would, and a bit of Stilton to go with it would be fine (I'll pass on the 'hug', if you don't mind). As we're in Cyberland, perhaps I'd like to try a Sandeman's Late Bottled. Or in the real world, Cocburn's Fine Ruby would have to do, and years ago I used to get Harvey's "White Cap" for the Thornaby Mess. It had a strange "incense" flavour which appealed to me (and if the other members didn't like it, then 'Hard Tit').

As for Royalty, though I yield to no man in my respect and loyalty to our Sovereign #. I have always thought that good order in the realm is best served if She gets on with her Queening in her Palace; my Station Commander gets on with commanding the Station in SHQ; I get on with my job - and we leave each other alone !

Note #: How long does a Commission last ? If I don't resign, don't get kicked out, but merely retire in the fullness of my years, am I the Queen's man until I die ?

Danny.

MPN11
19th Apr 2016, 09:19
The parchment includes the words ... as may be placed under your orders from time to time ...

On that premise, I suppose you and I could still have people placed under our orders: although I can't conceive any circumstances where or how that might happen!! Otherwise, Retired = retired, I guess.


* Sorry, we just finished a hunk of Duchy Stilton this morning for breakfast. :D

Brian 48nav
19th Apr 2016, 09:20
Don't be abashed! I'm with you on this one.

Thread drift - I always liken to a Ronnie Corbett monologue, or a real conversation in a crew room, we always get back on track eventually!

Danny42C
19th Apr 2016, 10:40
Brian 48nav,

Thanks for the support ! My remarks were not intended as, and should not be interpreted as "ageist" (Lord knows, I can't talk !), but from the sad fact that our faculties deteriorate with age. It is different with H.M., she started young and has grown with the job, so to speak.

Yet I did not wish to make hackles rise, and apologise if I have done so.

But taking on something new late in life is fraught with danger. My next-door neighbour has just gone automatic at a late stage, and has now destroyed his garage with his new Lexus. ("Honest John" in the D.T. has warned against this very thing).

Danny.

MPN11
19th Apr 2016, 11:50
No hackles from this correspondent, Danny42C ... my response at #8491 was somewhat tongue in cheek, certainly in respect to what might be seen as a dig at you!

My only concern, such as it was/is, relates to the 'body of opinion' who seem to have little or no understanding of how succession actually works. The Prince of Wales has no credible option in the matter - he will be King, unless completely incapacitated [at which point things would get a bit complicated], and will in turn be succeeded by Prince William [again without the option]. I have never seen any justification for overturning the precedent.

Walter603
20th Apr 2016, 07:04
Whilst on the subject of royalty (and villainy) have my fellow readers remembered that this is a significant time of year for Old Comrades and those who followed? I refer to that bastard Hitler, who was born on 20th April 1889 and died on 30th April 1945.
The lovely lady I often saw when I was a member of the Metropolitan Police in London was Queen Elizabeth II, who was born on 21st April 1926 and will be 90 very shortly.
What a contrast!

Danny42C
20th Apr 2016, 08:47
Walter,
...this is a significant time of year for Old Comrades and those who followed...
The Royal Air Force was formed on 1st April, 1918 - a date which has caused a few wry smiles over the years !

MPN11
20th Apr 2016, 10:22
My commissioning date too - the day I fooled the system :)