Danny and the Safebreakers.
In the New Year, I had hardly got back from Ehrwald when something really unexpected came my way. I had always skirted round the outer fringes of the Courts Martial empire: first as an Officer Under Instruction, then as being threatened with one, then as a possible Defending Officer, and lastly as the (temporary) custodian of the Prosecution's Exhibit "A" at another.
Now the wheel turned full circle, I was bidden to hie me to RAF Acklington and there to serve as Junior Member of a District (?) Court Martial. The faithful Minx was pressed into service, I got out my Best Blue (+ Medals ?) and drove up to a colder and bleaker part of the North East even than Teesside (if that be possible). But a pleasant surprise awaited me there. It seems that the members of a Court are not permitted to stay at the Station where the Court is to convene, lest impartial justice be put in peril by opinion or prejudice overheard there.
Accordingly they put us up in a cosy old pub in Alnwick. Warm, comfortable, good grub, a nice little bar and all paid for. After settling-in, I rather hoped that the proceedings might last a few weeks. But it was not to be, and a good thing too. The Court was to sit in the Station cinema; I think the central heating was bust, and it was absolutely freezing. We were all huddled in our greatcoats throughout.
IIRC, we consisted of a W/Cdr (President), a S/Ldr and myself, with a Deputy Judge Advocate to keep us in line. We all swore the sonorous Court Martial oath (".....that I will not at any time, in any place, under any circumstances whatsoever, reveal the verdict of any member of this Court..."). And so the business began. The Prosecutor outlined his case in his Opening Statement. He unfolded a tale so far beyond reasonable belief that you would not credit it as fiction.
There were three known Bad Lads at Acklington (A,B,& C, shall we say). After a Saturday night's carousal in the NAAFI, cash was a little short and our trio knew where they could lay their hands on a bit more. In the Station Adj's office there was a safe known to contain the cash balances of the Non-Public Funds. This safe was not secured in any way, but merely sat on a strong wooden stand (so did mine, for that matter). They broke into SHQ round the back, got into the office and manhandled the safe back out the way they'd come.
More tractive power was now needed. Leaving it there for the moment they went down to the MT section (Duty Driver ??? - don't know) and returned with a tractor, haulage chains and a fire axe they'd picked up somewhere on the way. They chained the safe up and shackled it to the tractor. Then they dragged it through the domestic camp onto the airfield, round the taxiway to a salvage dump on the far side, and set about it with the fire axe.
Of course there was never any hope of cracking it that way, so after inflicting some minor damage and hacking the handle off, they gave it up as a bad job. The alcoholic fumes having dispersed somewhat by now, they abandoned it and the axe, took the tractor and chains back to the MT bay, retired to the billet and slept the sleep of the unjust.
Normally things would be quiet over the weekend, but an unusually conscientious Station Adj had some urgent paperwork to do. He went down to SHQ after breakfast and found himself safeless. All Hell broke loose, the place was soon crawling with SPs and the local police. A frantic search of the environs turned up nothing, and it was not until Monday morning that a little man who was, it appeared, the custodian of the salvage dump, came in and diffidently asked "Are you quite sure you wanted that old safe you've just put out to go for scrap ?"
They all rushed out, the key still worked in the lock, it was all there and the panic was over. Now to find the miscreants. Curiously, nobody came forward with any information, but the SPs had a good idea where to start. They roped in the three Likely Suspects (as it was obviously an "inside job"), and set about it in the time honoured way. grilling them separately.
They started with A. "B and C have given us statements. They say it was all your idea". "Go away, please", said A (or words to that effect). They fared no better with B, but hit pay dirt with C. "The dirty b@st@rds" said C , "I'll tell you what really happened". They got a statement from him, confronted A and B with it, got two more, all blaming each other, and now had the whole lot in the bag.
All three pleaded "Guilty" (mercifully, as by now we were all in dire brass-monkey peril). The Court gave them six months imprisonment apiece, and a dishonourable discharge, all confirmed by the AOC. I understand that it was after this case that A.M. ruled that all safes containing more than a small amount of cash must be bricked-in.
Good evening, chaps,
Danny42C.
We don't make much money, but we do see life !