Danny takes up his story again.
Now we are all settled in at Bruton St. GK, and don't care if it snows (which it did, nicely in time for Christmas). Life in the ATC "Tower" (ie a nondescript section of a terraced single story office and workshop buildings facing onto the South Taxiway) continued its leisurely way. Indeed, I can remember very little about what we actually did , except for the fact that there wasn't much of it, I can never remember being busy there.
We would have a CA/DF, of course, and so I must have handed out a few QTEs, but I cannot recall doing any QGHs. In fact, now I come to think of it, I don't think they even had a Safety Lane. (There was no other aid on the field).
They didn't need it, of course. All their "Missions" would be under Sector Control, they went over to that as soon as the wheels were up, and we wouldn't hear a cheep out of them until Sector handed them back to Approach. Mostly the navs knew exactly where they were, and disdained any assistance from us to arrive visually. If the weather were really duff,or the pilot wanted some GCA practice, we'd give a bearing to the CPN-4 and let them get on with it.
We spent a lot of Watch time companiably nattering, and as we were nearly all ex-war (or early post-war) aircrew, Approach developed into the sort of the crewroom that I now nostalically envisage in Cyberspace. Folk from other sections along the line would drift in for a cuppa and a chat.
It would be blue with cigarette smoke, and the ashtrays piled high, as was the case everywhere in those days. I was never a cigarette smoker, but had started with a pipe early in my wartime service. When, how, and why I can't remember. I suppose it was the Thing to Do at the time (if you go back to wartime RAF photos and films, look out for the pipes). Chugalug may remember my description of a typical crewroom of the period in a Post long ago, and how we agreed that anyone smoking the exotic "Balkan Sobranies" was naturally under suspicion. But now I must make it absolutely clear that this does not apply to their pipe tobacco. This was (I stopped smoking when I retired in '72) most excellent stuff, rich and fruity and well worth the money.
I can see the tins now, black and white with a Balkan country scene on the lid. It wasn't cheap, but as it was duty-free in the NAAFI shop, that took the sting out of it. (I had gently to tell my old Mother not to send it out to me as a gift, as I could get it at half the price she'd have to pay).
An even less expensive source was the unit of USAC (?) we had with us on the station. (One of their officers lived a couple of doors down from us in Bruton St). They were, of course, the custodians of the Great Deterrant, which lived in its kennel in the woods off the North taxiway. I don't think they actually had a PX on the station, but they obviously had access to one, and I could get "Robin Hood" pipe tobacco (in a big round red and black pound tin) from them for Dm4 (£6 today, or 37½p/oz.) - where would you get that today ! The stuff was more like rough-cut cigarette tobacco, with not much taste, but when "cut" 50/50 with the B.S., the blend was very satisfying indeed.
Apart from a few newcomers, all of us were ex-Volkspark or still in it, and the commute was a lively source of stories. Our relations with the Polizei were generally good - provided you stuck to the letter of the law. They were hot on speeding - the limits in the towns and villages was 50 kph (31 mph), and on the Landstraße 80 kph (50). They had quite sophisticated kit.
It was always an unmarked VW Combi van, it could be any colour. It would be parked on the grass on the nearside with backdoors open. The radar was in there. In the front was the flash camera. The radar took the reading, the thing waited a second or so for you to pass, then the flash fired.
You were "done to rights". The picture you got showed clearly the back registration number (I don't thing we had any front plates), superimposed were date/time/place and speed. There was no point arguing, you paid up (it wasn't cheap). All this I was told, you understand (I was never caught myself - but I've seen the photographs (they're good). You soon developed a sixth sense for parked Combis !
The system had an Achilles Heel. If two cars were passing at the same time (one overtaking the other), it was possible for the radar to get the faster, but the camera the slower. There was a celebrated case which reduced all Germany to tears of mirth. A dear old granny from some farm was plugging along on a tractor just as a Porche came howling past. Granny was booked at 120 kph, the Press exulted over the "Turbo-OMA" all week!
Goodnight, all, (from the Sorcerer's Apprentice )
Danny42C.
Àpres moi, le déluge !