I am grateful to all my correspondents - it might have been better if I'd asked who we were
not training !.... Inuits, perhaps - or the headhunters of Borneo ?
It was mid-morning at Strubby and things were rather quiet for the moment. The NAAFI van had made its welcome way round most of the sections on the South side of the runway, and now set out round the taxiway to cater for the few people on the other side. Frankly, I can't think of many: the D/F operators in their hut, maybe some electricians working on the lights, and of course the GCA trucks (self-catering, but there
might be some cigarette sales).
Now of course all MT traffic wishing to cross the runway must do so at the (live) threshold end, not passing marshalling point until getting an Aldis "green" from the Caravan. A Meteor was half way round on finals, our van was coming up to the point, the Runway Control Corporal flashed it a "red", the van ignored it and continued serenely on its way across the bows of the Meteor which by now was on short finals.
Caravan banged off a red Verey, but the pilot already had the van in sight, "poured the coal on", veered right and went around, the while expressing himself forcibly to our Local Controller on the subject of Runway Controllers in general and ours in particular. He in turn was on his squawk box to the Tower, equally volubly protesting his innocence.
Local Controller sent the ATC Landrover in hot pursuit of the offender, caught it and escorted it back round to ATC, where an immediate interview with SATCO had been arranged.
The young lady (who drove the van herself, as well as dishing out the "char and wads") seemed not unduly perturbed. The dialogue went as follows:
"Why didn't you stop when you saw the red light ? ......
"What red light ?...
"The red light from the Caravan !"....
"
What Caravan ? .....
"The one at the end of the Runway !"......
"What's a Runway ?"....
It seemed that, as a new girl, she had been inadequately briefed by the Manageress.
SATCO realised that he'd got a "Right One Here", and launched into a long and detailed exposition of the Regulations which had to be obeyed When Crossing a Live Runway...."Do you realise how important all this is, Miss ?..... Are you sure ?..... Is there anything you don't quite understand ?"
"Yes", said she, in an aggrieved tone,
"Do I have to know all this for three pounds a week ?"
"Collapse" (as Victorian "
Punch" used to say) "of Stout Party".
Goodnight once again,
Danny42C
Well, these things happen.