Long, long time ago, an Impala (Aermacchi 326 or also known as an Imp in SA) squadron was stationed at a civilian airport alongside a light transport squadron flying single piston engined taildraggers.
Of course, being what they are, the light aircraft pilots had a very good rapport with the civvy ATC’s at the airport and the jet jocks always came of second – well almost always. This was mostly due to conspiracies formed between ATC and light aircraft drivers in the airport pub at night
.
On a specific morning a flight of 4 Imps were taxiing out for a rocket delivery training sortie when (lets call the flight “Brats”) the radio comms went something like this...
“Tower, Brats”
“Brats, good morning. QNH 1013, taxi holding point 08L. Call ready for departure”
“1013, 08L, Brats copied”
A short while later…
“Tower, Brats”
“What now?”
“Rough time check”
“Tuesday”
A shorter while later, four Imps at the holding points doing all the checks and cross-checks only jet jocks have to do, toggles, switches, armed, not armed, safe, unsafe etc… Takes ages. Civvy King Air on a charter now behind Imps and ready to go. Waiting in constipation when…
“Tower, can Brats expedite…I’m paying for my own fuel”
Five second silence…then a reply from Brats’ flight leader…
“Don’t worry mate, you’re paying for ours as well”
Eventually, 4 Imps now lined up on runway cleared for streamer take-off when…
“Tower, Brats”
“Yeeesss! What Now!”
“There’s Guinea-fowl on the runway”
Immediately - reply from tower…
“You’ve got rockets don’t you”
