Yes Danny, I was 11 when the Hastings photo was taken, and I was indeed put into service of a foreign power, but never was a child more willing to be exploited. The great Ethiopian Air Force breakdown occurred on a Friday afternoon when the Saabs were due to return to Addis Ababa.
The resulting Saturday and Sunday work for hapless National Servicemen was my good fortune, for I was forbidden to enter Flying Wing during the week.
Weekends with their absence of brass were another matter and my father's airmen spoiled me rotten, undoubtedly because their own little brothers were far away. My reward was the navigator's seat during runup of Saab or Brigand, if I was lucky a taxi ride which often involved lifting the tail down Khormaksar's baked gypsum runway.
None of your hi-tech cleaning gadgets, Danny. My spark plug cleaning tools were one bowl, enamelled, shaving, filled with petrol, an old paintbrush, and a small screwdriver ground to fit into the plug body and hoke out the crud.
Of course I was severely traumatised by these experiences which have resulted in my obsession with aircraft ever since. Indeed I feel a damages claim coming on, so while I consult m'learned friends, here are more pictures which an enthusiastic young airman (my father) took during his first posting to Andover in 1938:
Top left: Faithful Annie, an early Anson with its manually operated turret. Right: Miles Magister primary trainer, contemporary with the Tiger Moth. It has not proved as durable because its wooden construction delaminated with distressing result. Not so the Dragon Rapide G-AEML in the background: bought new by Wrightways of Croydon in 1936, it was impressed into RAF war service, back to civil use in 1946, and is still flying with the Fundacion Infante de Orleans, an aviation museum in Madrid.
Bottom left: Bristol Blenheim Mk 1 with all-glass nose. Right: Gloster Gauntlet fighter. Looking at the lower two, perhaps it was a wise decision to appease Hitler in 1938, giving time to produce Hurricanes and Spitfires.