Old Sea Puppies.
Chugalug,
Yes, my former Station Commander/PMC really appeared on cue, for you're quite right about the manning position in the RAF. By 1949 they had more or less succeeded in getting rid of all the wartime people they wanted to lose - from memory, I think the number of names in the active pages of the Air Force List had come down from 100,000 to 10,000 or so.
But they weren't as good as tempting in the youngsters for short-service as they had been pre-war (although the competition for prized Cranwell cadetships was as strong as ever); this was the reason that a few "retreads" like me crept in to bulk up the base of the manning pyramid.
Their Airships may have had great things in mind for me, but what I ended up with with was the tamest of the tame, as will soon be revealed - and we'd no one to bring us any tea ! (Call of the Greater ATCO-Bird: "What is the Echo-Tango-Alpha of the Tango-Echo-Alpha ?")
Speaking as a devout landlubber, I certainly don't wish to cast any aspersions on "Sperling" (I've found a photo in Google - she looks magnificent). Nor do I wish to give the impression that I did much actual sailing. From observation, this seemed to me to consist mostly of getting very cold and wet what with all this gybeing and capsizing and things.
The only time I was ever in command of a sailing vessel would be around '34, when the Mooragh Park Lake (Ramsey, I.O.M.) cheerfully let a 12 year old loose (with ten minutes of instruction) alone in this old tub of a dinghy, with just enough sail to keep it moving. ('Elf & Safety, where wert thou ?) Mother (ashore) knitted placidly, knowing I could swim pretty well.
Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 9th Dec 2012 at 00:26.
Reason: Error.