Getting ready to salute the rag at Brize at 0759 one Sunday morning, the orderly Sergeant said "Shall we raise it half mast Sir?" I hadn't seen or heard any news that day, having only just recently dragged myself out of the Orderly Ofiicer's scratcher and was looking forward to the free breakfast. On asking why, I was informed that Princess Diana had been killed in a car crash a few hours earlier. "S'pose we should" was the answer. All I could think about as the flag went up the pole was "this is an excellent time not to be OO at the RAF's busiest transport base!". My replacement was already at the guardroom one minute later, and the phone was already ringing for the OO. He had heard the news and wasn't looking very happy. He didn't have a good day. incidentally, the Brize Station Standing orders mentioned that "The Orderly Officer is to drink in moderation". There it was in black and white - drinking was obligatory! I was a bit fuzzy headed because when embarking down that path, judgement gets progressively impaired and the line between moderation and excess had become ever so slightly blurred. It was a bit of a conundrum.
Other Orderly Dog tails:
I was called out to the WAAF block at one station as a young LACW was going to throw herself out of the top floor because her boyfriend had dumped her. Some bright spark suggested finding out who the boyfriend was and getting him to come and talk to her. Seemed like a good idea at the time, and as he was in the RAF at another station nearby, quite feasible. So this was done. When he turned up, it transpired that he was a mate from my Initial Officer Training - something which was strictly forbidden at the time. I left his rank out of my report!
One day as SDO at Swinditz, I had been informed that there were defaulters for inspection after all. I arrived at midnight to see a whole parade lined up - only the Standard and band were missing!. One entry had just failed a snap block inspection and they had been immediately put on Station defaulters. I walked up and down the lines trying to muster as much interest in the bullsh!t proceedings as a gash aircrew type could , and of course, being in basic training - they were near immaculate. But one guy attracted my attention because he was very nervous. A closer look revealed he had no socks!. It seems his 'mates' had nicked them as a joke. The duty Corporal wanted to convene a firing squad, but I couldn't care less and told him to find them before morning.
After landing on a training flight one day, the boss asked me to get to the guardroom ASAP as one of the students had been arrested by P&SS and protocol required someone from the establishment to sit in the interview. I was expecting something serious like drugs. But once the tape recorder had started and everyone had introduced themselves, Fg Off Nastygit produced a photo of an asre with a bottle stuck in it. I lost it immediately and with the tears rolling down my eyes, I suggested holding an identity parade as the arse had an identifiable zit. I was expelled from the interview and the Sqn was instructed to send someone more mature and responsible. I managed to see my replacement before he went in and mentioned that under no circumstances was he to laugh when shown the photo - without mentioning the subject. Of course, he also lost it when seeing the photo. The case collapsed. What had happened is that the student had left his camera lying around at a party and his course mates decided to add to his photo portfolio, Not knowing what was on the roll, he gave it to Boots in Newark to process and when they saw the photos with others of people in uniform, they handed it to the Police at the nearest RAF Station, Newton - HQ of P&SS.