Operating the Mighty Hunter out of Seeb, we could only get rations through the local handling agent who catered for the likes of BA. On arrival, the rations for the tasking next day were duly ordered by yours truly: two main meals and a snack for fifteen persons, deliver to aircraft at 0900 local.
When we got to the hotel we received the news that the tasking had been put back to 1300. No problem. Phone the agent and explain that rations were now required for 1100.
Well, funny old thing, next day on arrival at the aircraft two things were apparent. Firstly, the AEO, who had made a pot of ‘honkers stew’ on the way down to Seeb had not washed up the pot, which had been left to fester overnight and most of the following morning. That had to be dealt with (another story for another time). Secondly, the rations duly turned up at 1100. Result. However, the rations for 0900 were also on board the van. Yes, two lots of rations. The meals came in the form of the standard airline plastic trays filled with exquisite delights including a side salad of smoked salmon for starters, and wonderful deserts - obviously made up for business class. BUT, fifteen persons x 3 trays x 2 orders came to … quite a lot of trays, which had to be stacked up in the galley with the overflow going into the ordnance section. On top of the last tray was a printed sheet of paper listing the individual meal types and a column (left blank on this occasion) which would usually have stated the cost of the meal. That was good, as I could use this piece of paper to send around the crew when asking for their selection from the choice of 4 main meals and two snacks each.
As the ‘menu’ made its way around, some of the wet and dry team decided it would be a good idea to play ‘guess how much your meal costs’ and with stifled giggling, started to put their guesses down in the blank column. The last person then totted up the figures and entered the quite substantial total at the base of the column. I do not recall how much the total was, but what I do recall is my name being shouted (or rather ‘bawled’) by the very irate Nav Captain who had just been handed what he assumed to be the bill for 90 meals. His anger was compounded by having to fight his way through the stacked up plastic trays in the galley, and past a still rancid pan of burned honkers stew, to ‘have a word’. The situation was resolved when it was pointed out that there was no way that a tray of salad with pate, duck l ’orange, a fruit compote, followed by cheese and biscuits would ever cost as much as the Lead Wet had thought and apart from which, would you like your tray of sandwiches and packet of peanuts now, or after we get airborne?