Danny has to Ftght the Good Paper Fight.
Matters administrative would now be worthy of note. I'm not sure of the order of events, but it doesn't matter anyway. First was a Letter from Higher Authority (probably "Personal and Confidential" - which is always bad news).
I opened it in fear and trembling. But it was not what I expected. It seemed that the Air Council, in pursuance of A.M.O so-and-so, were graciously minded to continue my employment (n.b: I do not use the word "career") up to the age of 55, five years longer than my original contract, on the existing terms, if I so wished.
Cave Daneos, et dona ferentes (Beware of the Greeks bearing gifts !). There had to be a catch in this somewhere. I turned up the A.M.O. and read the fine print with infinite care. But it appeared clear that acceptance would in no way inhibit a PVR after the age of 50 (and in fact I was to leave at 51). What could we lose ?
Aged 40, 50 was a long way off, and 55 even further. But already our thoughts had begun to dwell on the gap ahead between leaving the Service and State Pension age. It's a nice balance, leave at 50 with a poor prospect of further employment and 15 years to fill, or hang on to 55 with only 10 years but a worse prospect.
We discussed it: this way, we could keep our options open: we decided to accept.
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I'd finished my ATC Course at Shawbury in July,'55, leaving with no personal documentary evidence of the fact. You just turned up at your posting, said "Hello, Sir" to the SATCO, he gave you Station Flying Orders, said "Read, Learn, Inwardly Digest - and sign here. So-and-so will show you round the place, you'll be on the roster on Approach Monday morning. Any Questions ? No ? Then welcome aboard, and Good Luck".
Oddly enough, this "Sink or swim" introduction worked quite well. You must remember that then the intakes were, almost without exception, still ex-wartime aircrew, with a preponderance of pilots and navigators. All the procedures were familiar to you from your time on the "other side of the fence". You were speaking the same language, the abbreviations used were second nature to you, you knew what an aircraft could (and could not) be asked do, and you were talking to people who'd so recently might have been your squadron mates. Short of flying yourself, what's not to like ?
Early the next year I went back to Shawbury for the month long GCA course at Sleap, came back, same thing. You became a fully qualified Controller by a sort of osmosis. The years went by, I did tours at Strubby, Thorney Island, and was now almost two years into a tour at GK. Then the RAF started to have scruples. This wasn't really a professional way to go about things. There should be some sort of body set up to oversee the standards of Controlling, and to assess the competence of those already engaged in this black art.
Hitherto, the ATC Branch had been self-policing, in the sense that an incompetent Controller must stick out like a sore thumb; the pilots will be up in arms immediately; OC(F) will have him out at once. But now an ATC Examining Board was established at Shawbury, and on every station a Local Examining Officer was appointed (usually, but not invariably, the SATCO). His task was to satisfy himself that each newcomer was safe to stand a solo watch before turning him loose in a particular chair.
And so it was that all Controllers and aspirants fresh from Shawbury, were issued with a Certificate of Competency (Form 5994). This took the form of a very pretty little hard-backed booklet, about 4x5 inches, pale blue with silver embossed lettering (later, I'm told, in gold - missed out again !). Basically, this was analagous to a pilot's Log Book, for in it the LEO certified that the owner was competent to operate unsupervised in every separate position in the tower and/or Truck (Local - Approach - Radar Director - Precision Approach - etc).
As these certificates were valid only for the station at which they were issued, you had to collect another lot on each new posting, and your book soon filled up (I count 35 items on 17 certicates). Of course, the people who'd been doing it for years, without being responsible for any major disasters, got a free ride to begin with.
And so, on 1st January, 1962, I was issued with Certificate No. 513, duly signed by a Sqn.Ldr. Butt, of the ATC Examining Board, which takes pride of place after my Logbook on the shelf now (having been left behind at Leeming when I retired, it caught up with me four months later, courtesy of Tom Davison) .
Enough for the moment,
Cheers, everybody,
Danny42C
(Unworthy Jest): "Those who can, Do....those who can't, Instruct....those who can neither Do nor Instruct go on the Examining Board". (Sorry, MPN11 !)
Last edited by Danny42C; 22nd Jan 2014 at 19:44.
Reason: Add Text.