Way back in 1977 Benson was a wonderful first posting for a young man who had only recently been introduced to the delights of alcohol and the fairer sex. TCW and 244 Sigs Sqn had just moved to Brize and SCSHQ had moved up from Medmenham with a wealth of beauties. At the time I was mostly working out of a warehouse in Watlington alongside MCSU and it really was pretty idyllic.
Unfortunately from time-to-time I was reminded that I was actually in the RAF, equally unfortunately it didn't happen quite often enough for me to remember - then came the 2 weeks from hell. Now I was never what could be regarded as a bad person but I did seem to have knack of not quite getting in right. So week 1 started with a bull night, fair enough, every week started with a bull night but this time I forgot to empty the ashtray next to my pit (those were the days!) and that resulted in my first charge of the week and me being £10 lighter at the end of Tuesday. In 1977 £10 was a hell of a lot of beer chits. On the re-inspection on the Wednesday morning the Sgt noticed that I had failed to conform to the directive not to hang posters on the wall using cellotape - 2nd charge of the week and by the Thursday lunchtime I was pressing my No1 Uniform ready for that nights "jankers" inspection. Now by this time I had become a little preoccupied (and more than a little hacked off that I would be missing the Thursday night "bop") so when the same sgt who had already charged my twice that week told me to pass a message on, and I forgot, can you guess the result? That's right, charge No 3 of the week and a total of 8 days jankers to take me up to the following Thursday night. And just to be sure I was getting the message I was put on Duty Storeman for the weekend, to start the day after jankers finished.
So, we get to the Friday night and me desperate to do something right to get this guy off my back - some hope! After everyone had knocked off for the weekend I was wandering around securing the Sqn when I noticed a load of pallets containing 25 ltr drums of a non-flammable liquid with a long name (that, on reflection I really should have read) that needed to be put into stock. Hmm.. thinks I, getting that lot put away (about 150 drums or so) would be sure to impress him. Now previously I had been allowed to drive forklifts but my licence had been taken away after I tried to go cross country on one and went through some paving slabs covering the drains etc. As it required the use of a crane to get the forklift out the hole it was a difficult one for me to hide and the MT WO at the time suggested that maybe a re-think on my licence was required. I seem to recall he suggested a few other things as well, but the exact detail escapes me.
So, anyway, everyones gone home and there is a fully charged forklift just waiting for me to play with it. The first couple of pallets, stacked two (or is that too!) high went in nicely and my confidence was growing………….many, many smartie points must be on the cards here. As my confidence grew so did the speed of the forklift and as I was taking the last pallet into the store the screeching of the tyres as I came to a stop was outdone only by the noise of 10 drums falling about 10' to the ground - and splitting wide open. Now fortunately the store had a fire hose in it, so what could be easier than hosing the whole mess out of the door and down the drain and then striking the necessary number of containers of stock charge - who would know? Do you have any idea how much mess is made indoors when you add water, under pressure, to 250 ltrs of fire fighting foam? Take it from me, it's quite a lot! So there I am, foam up to my ankles and progressing rapidly towards my knees, the sgts office and the sqn T Bar - it was at that point I got to wondering if the RAF were allowed to send LACs to Colchester. I am not too sure whether or not I slept that weekend but I do recall that by the Sunday afternoon I had managed to just about remove all trace of the disaster, except that is for a water mark about 6" off the ground that I cleverly disguised by judicious use of dust, dirt and removing the light bulb!
By some miracle this weekend of furious activity, the culmination of 2 fairly testing weeks in the life of a 17 yr old was never detected. But I have always been curious as to why nobody ever questioned how a pallet of Kimwipe, in a relatively small store, disappeared over the course of a weekend.