I departed the RAF in 1974 of my own volition; I had a good time while serving and learnt a lot, but just felt I’d seen the best and wanted to move on. My last station was Chivenor and having not spent very long there anyhow and knowing few people, my departure was very low key with no brass band lining the street as I departed, though I did not really expect one anyhow.
However, what has been rather nice is that from time to time I have been in touch, one way or another ,with a few who remembered me and most seemed to be genuinely pleased to be in contact; a couple in fact thanking me for some little help or guidance I had given them a long time back. A former commanding officer of mine who was later a contract officer in the Qatar AF when I was working at a nearby location was kind enough to give me a day of his time (and quite a few beers) to bash out a letter I needed to help clear some doubts as to my capabilities in certain areas. A former squadron commander (I was a line NCO then) later worked with me at a Middle East flight department, our rapport was immediate. Over the years I’ve had reason to work with a number of RAF units or sections helping with arrangements for one thing or another and once it was known I was ex Air Force we immediately had a solid base for mutual respect. Oh yes, a former pal from ATC cadet days who had risen to become a onetime CO of QF was one I came to catch up with as a civvie and the beer flowed heavily on the couple of occasions we got together; most likely in fact, had I still been serving, we would not have enjoyed the same freedom to imbibe.
What I’m getting at is that CB might well find his time in the service hasn’t just evaporated without any residual good will; there is a real possibility of situations down the line where his ‘worth’ is proclaimed. I certainly hope so.
As I near my 70th year a long way from the UK I have the unique pleasure of being one of only two members of a rather informal Manila group of former 33rd entry Boy Entrants; we schedule a choir practice every now and then on a Sunday lunchtime at a local Brit pub. It’s good fun and quite often a few other aviation types turn up along with occasional dark blues and brown jobs, all of whom who add a bit of extra colour to our gatherings; I expect at the next assembly we shall “rattle the can” a little on behalf of Hounds for Hero's, which seems to be a worthy cause.
I have been out a long time now, but never totally lost touch and still have many good memories. Look for the good and rewarding in what you shared while serving and consider there might be a reasonable probability some pleasant chance encounters may follow; above all, don’t get bitter and twisted. As for me, the clock is inevitably gradually running down and I still have a lot of goals to kick, I don’t have time to harbor any chips on my shoulders, too much to do.
Last edited by Q-RTF-X; 30th Aug 2012 at 06:40.