Many memories triggered here, not all of them good.
Yes Pontius we really did generate 31 at Waddo in mid '67. As I remember it, the exercise started off as a MICK and, after we declared all aircraft serviceable including the Hangar Queen, Bomber Command tried to call our bluff by raising us to MICKEY FINN. [We flew all aircraft off in one go which was most unusual - normally the aircraft dispersed in small groups as soon as they were ready]. Bloody murder that was, I was one of the Valley detachment and went off in a Hastings - after 16 hours of continuous work overnight that is. You can't sleep in a Hastings. We found that RAF Valley hadn't been looking after the Bomber Command detachment billets - a couple of old WW2 huts near the beach - the windows were all broken and the roof leaked so we had nowhere to live. Their MT section had knicked our No.1 Group Landrover too, so we had no transport for moving food over from the mess. We settled down in the caravan by the ORP instead. The lack of sleeping space wasn't a problem as we were short-handed as usual and didn't get any "down" time. We were issued with amphetamines to keep us on our feet (imagine that today!!!) and consequently managed to stand-to for a continuous duty shift of slightly more than 36 hours without sleep or hot food - the cold war wasn't just a game. Dunno where the aircrew hung out. Certainly not with us.
Before we left I recall doing "Combats" on a B2 and as per SOP had an LAC down below catching the Window packets in a dustbin lid. Wingco Eng was snooping about and hearing an odd noise from a hole he went over to investigate. 'Oxo', the LAC didn't get any Window in his bin lid, so I dropped another two. That's when 'Oxo' noticed Wingco Eng covered from head to toe in "Tinsel" For the record, he was not amused!
The QRA tales bring back a few memories too. In early '67 I was supposed to go away to Butterworth on detachment. When I applied for a passport I discovered that I'm not actually British. In fact I wasn't even legally permitted to remain in the country. Bomber Command resolved this problem in typical fashion by swapping me with a chap who was on QRA. So, Johnny Foreigner illegal immigrant, was now looking after one of Her Majesties Nukes. Sometime during that month at Midgeley's Motel on Alpha dispersal [Anyone remember Midge? F/S Midgeley was one of the few proper Gentlemen at Waddo. An ace bloke] we had a call-out without any definition - Zero-five, Start Engines or Zero Two as the case may be. The aircraft went down to the runway and stayed there. We were left standing on the empty pans to reflect upon the fact that there were no standing orders for what to do next. Being a first-strike target there was no point in having any - we would be vapourised where we stood. After a couple of minutes two 5 Sqn Lightnings from Binbrook flew overhead at about 500 feet rocking their wings and then circled the airfield, Something unusual was definitely going on. After about twenty minutes the aircraft taxied off down the runway and came back to Alpha dispersal and the crews returned to the Ops Block. No-one ever told us what was going on, but then we were only grease monkeys and no-one ever did.
I could write a book about the weird situation for ground crew in No.1 Group back then - no cold weather clothing so wear your own; issued with "previously owned Trog Boots and seaboot socks [they could have washed them first!]; Squadron transport robbed of serviceable parts by MT section, to get the road going vehicles through the MOT. Never mind the accidents we had out on the airfield. It was a black comedy out there and we looked like a gang of pirates but no-one in this man's air force or anyone else's could match us at keeping them flyable. We hated every minute of it. Glory Days.
PS Someone mentioned about shooting survivors with radiation sickness. Radiation didn't come into it. During NBC I was allocated to the shooting and cremation group. The medics were to classify all survivors as uninjured, walking injured or incapacitated. Those in the first two groups were to be formed into working parties for forced labour. The latter group were to be taken away and shot. One bullet behind the right ear using a 9 mm Browning Hi-Power. We were also trained in the art of burning all the bodies - how to stack them with the right air gaps for oxygen feed, proportion of wood to human remains etc. Burning bodies in the open isn't as easy as it seems and the authorities didn't wish to waste petrol. [Unusually for a service training course, we weren't allowed to take notes. I wonder why?!?] Maybe that's still the plan - I don't know if there is one anymore, now that the bunkers are open for public inspection. The daft thing that should have been staring 'them' in the face was that none of us was going to surviveto carry out the plan anyway - we were the bloody first strike targets ourselves for Christ's sake!
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Through difficulties to the cinema