Funny Things Happen in The Air Force

[SOSL]

I remember some good times and times when I had to laugh. These are just some of them. I hope you guys out there can can help me by adding your own stories. (BTW BEags you rumbled me last time I was on this forum, years ago - see if you can rumble me this time).

It’s the mid seventies. Prestigious Air Defence Sqn based in Scotland, on a station near the most famous golf course in the world, is going to be given a new standard. Youngish, thrusting, high flier just been promoted and posted in as Sqn Cdr decides the standard presentation parade will be the best set-piece of drill ever seen in the RAF. Has the Sqn Warrant Officer drill the troops day and night for weeks until they are near perfect. Early start on the important day. Officers’ married quarters (days when you had to be married to get a quarter) quite a long way from the Sqn HQ so Transit van organized to collect all the officers (troops did it on foot). Sqn Cdr, fully booted and spurred in ceremonial uniform but can’t find gloves (soft brown cape leather). Transit turns up and toots horn, nothing happens. No. 1 Flight Commander calls from the bus window “come on boss it’s time to go”. Still can’t find gloves – losing reason to live - Sqn Cdr calls back “off you go I’ll catch up with you in a minute”. Sqn Cdr, a pipe smoker, suddenly realises that his tobacco pouch (soft brown cape leather) would double for a pair of gloves if folded over and held in his left hand – salvation at last. He leaps on his bicycle and manages to get to the parade with nanoseconds to spare. Sqn Cdr marches on, leading the troops and parade goes as planned. March back to Sqn HQ, dismiss officers, dismiss troops. Sqn Cdr turns to Sqn WO, says “well Mr Smith I think the parade went perfectly and I don’t suppose anyone even noticed that I was holding a tobacco pouch. Mr Smith replies “no sir they didn’t”. Sqn Cdr asks “how can you be so sure, Mr Smith?”. Mr Smith replies “well sir, they would have been too busy looking at your bicycle clips”.

This happened in the days when Kevlar was unheard of and we all wore heavy steel helmets with dodgy linings. Taceval Pt 1. HQ STC distaff have previously briefed Senior Aircraft Man Bloggs that his hangar will be blown up and he will be a casualty. About midnight, hangar is “blown up”. SAC Bloggs writhes on the floor, screaming and loving the fact the fact that he joined the RAF. Very enthusiastic Cpl nurse is despatched from the Med Centre to attend to casualties. Finds SAC Bloggs, pinches his ear, says “can you hear me” and bends down over Bloggs. Bloggs sits up and as he does so Cpl’s helmet falls off and impacts Bloggs head. Bloggs suffers NODUFF concussion. Ambulance summonsed. Bloggs goes to local NHS cottage hospital. Treatment for concussion not administered for about 30 minutes because on arrival at hospital Bloggs had a piece of paper on him which said “broken legs and severe burns”.

Practice parade at RAFC Cranwell. After several manoeuvres - “parade will advance in review order, present arms”. Parade advances 12 paces, halts and presents arms – flight cadet blogs hits his rifle too hard and it falls to the floor and makes a loud noise. Drill instructor marches across the Orange with his eyes fixed on the offender until he gets within a pace at which point he turns and shouts at the cadet next to the offender “you sir do you have an erectixn?” Adjacent cadet says “no sergeant”. Sgt roars “well you should have, sir, because you are stood next to the biggest CxNT in the Brfitish Isles".

Practice Parade at RAFC Cranwell. Drill Instructor (DI) “turning to the right in column of route – RIGHT TURN”. “By the centre quick march......Left Right left Right – swing your arms gentlemen, swing your arms shoulder high front and rear”. Front left hand marker (flight Cadet Bloggs(FCB)), plays number 8 for the college first fifteen, hurt his shoulder in practice the night before. “Swing your fxxxing arms gentlemen”. Short pause then “Squad halt! Into line left turn”. DI marches across the Orange parade square. Hat peak on his nose, pace stick under his arm, quivering with rage, steel studs on each boot biting into the gravel. Marches up to FCB and screams “Mr FCB what the fxck are you doing not swinging your fxcking arms shoulder fxcking high front and fxcking rear on my fxcking parade Sir”. FCB replies “I’m a little stiff from rugby Sgt”. DI replies “I don’t give a fxck where you come from Sir – swing your fxcking arms shoulder fxcking high on my fxcking parade Sir.


Hope to get some input from the guys and gals in the colonial airforces and the brown jobs as well. Happy days SOSL