Ripping Yarns : Strange But True

[CoffmanStarter]

The last couple of "Ripping Yarn" topics seemed to be well received by many ... so I thought it might be about time to start another yarn topic :ok:

Now I can't offer personal stories of high speed/altitude daring dos ... but here's something to start us off ...

On one early morning in December 1976, I was airborne in a Chipmunk (WZ845) with S/L John Shelton doing a weather check out of RAF Manston ... more to do with checking the X-Wind than the cloud base as I remember. We had just departed the circuit and were working the Approach Frequency in readiness for a PAR recovery. All of a sudden the Approach Controller called us on the vhf ... "Alpha Three Zero from Manston Approach ... we have a request from London Civil Air Traffic Control to "intercept" a dirigible heading towards north Kent". The Boss responded requesting the characteristics of the target for possible visual ID purposes ... "Err ... Roger ... Alpha Three Zero be advised you are looking for an inflated Pink Pig, I say again Pink Pig ... acknowledge".

I think John thought it was a wind up at first ... but responded positively and requested Radar Vectoring on the the "blip" that, by then, had appeared on Manston's Search Radar. This was well before RAF Ash came in to existence, so we had no Air Defence Radar help with altitude on the target. So off we trundled at 90 Kts towards Chatham Dockyard to try and find the flying Pink Pig. A Police helicopter had also given chase. John had decided that given various "unknowns" (like was a tether rope still attached) that it wouldn't be wise to get too close ... in any case shooting it down wasn't an option (mores the pity) :}

Fortunately the viz was good below cloud at 1500 feet ... when we arrived within the target area we couldn't find the bloody thing for love nor money. After about 10/15 mins John advised the Approach Controller that nothing found and that we were returning to base.

Later that day we were told that the target was in fact the inflatable Pink Pig being used on the photo shoot up at Battersea Power Station for the cover of the Pink Floyd album "Animals". Apparently it had become untethered in blustery conditions on the second day of the photo shoot. It was no wonder we didn't see the target as apparently it had burst at an estimated 18,000 feet shortly after we had left the scene ... falling into a local famers field.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/74/Pink_Floyd-Animals-Frontal.jpg

It was sad to learn later on that the final Album Cover (above) incorporated a superimposed pig graphic rather than a photo of the actual flying pink pig :(

Unfortunately the original 8mm film of the photo shoot at Battersea has been blocked on YouTube by EMI ... but here is a clip of the recent reenactment when the PF albums were remastered.

Pigs Can Fly: Pink Floyd Animals album cover reconstruction - YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=CXa7G3kQKLY)

Strange but true ...

Coff.

And the next one please ...

[SASless]

"The BOI determined the Mid-Air Collision of Chipmunk WZ 845 and a Pink Pig was the cause of the accident which was happened when a Pink Pig descending from a higher altitude escaped from its Owner."

[smujsmith]

I was a member of 4 Counties Gliding Club, an RAFGSA club operating out of Syerston. Close by, RAF Newton operated Bulldogs, East Midlands University Air Squadron (EMUAS), at the time and we often saw their aircraft in the airfield vicinity. We had been having a "flying week" since the Monday morning, where our QFIs tried to bring on the pre solo pilots on toward soloing, and getting a few Bronze Certificate qualifications. By Thursday all I had done was pre flight the gliders and drive the winch. At the time, I desperately needed the height climb segment to achieve my full Silver Certficate. Obviously I hoped to get a launch at some point during the week and an opportunity.

So here we are, Thursday and I've got an hour or two away from winching and the duty pilot asks me if I would like a launch in the K18. Resisting the urge to kiss him :eek: I duly strapped in and headed uphill. So, around 800 feet on the launch and there's a real lurch (upwards), and I decide to pull the bung. A swift turn onto reciprocal finds the lurch again, and its a beauty. It's going up at around 6 knots, and although tight, I'm staying in it. I need a height gain of 1000 Mtrs from release so hang in there. It's fairly windy so I swiftly pass downwind of the launch point, and accept he ear bend over the radio from the duty pilot, "it'll be worth it for the silver height". As I pass through 4000 feet I start to hear a familiar noise. Having spent 3 years on Groundcrew with Oxford UAS the unmistakable sound of the Bulldog. Problem was that by now I was definitely intermittent VFR at best, lots of cloud and unable to pinpoint the location of the Bulldog by sound alone. Seconds later EMUAS Bulldog passes around 20 yards away immediately in front of me. My stall turn into cloud would have impressed the finest real pilot, and I hoped that nothing was heard of the instance again. My height climb didn't count, the barograph trace could not establish my release point as the thermal was going up at the same rate as the winch launch, it looked like a continuous climb from the ground.

A few years later and I'm a GE on Albert. We are doing a live drop near RAF Ouston, and gliders are launching from the airfield. From experience I was able to give the co pilot the correct Gliding Ground frequency to contact them and clear our run in. In the bar that night, the Co asked how I knew the frequency etc. I explained my previous with gliders and my flying from Syerston. You guessed it, he said, "ahh, them blighters. One of them nearly took me out when I was a stude on EMUAS". I bought him a beer and kept schtumm. What a small world it is, aviation. This may not have happened at Mach 2.3 in an "Aloominum death tube", but it did some ripping to the yarn in the seat of my underwear.

Smudge

[CoffmanStarter]

That's the ticket Smudge ... Just what we are looking for :D:D:D:D

PS ... Now let's see if that former EMUAS pilot is on PPRuNe :ok:

[NutLoose]

Can I slip this in as an example of a near miss, swear word used..

skydiver near miss - YouTube

[Courtney Mil]

Two crackers to get the thread started. Do you guys do autographs? :ok:

Edited to add: The expletive in your click, Nutty, if totally justified.

[TomJoad]

"The BOI determined the Mid-Air Collision of Chipmunk WZ 845 and a Pink Pig was the cause of the accident which was happened when a Pink Pig descending from a higher altitude escaped from its Owner."

Or as the Daily Mail reported:

" To avoid collision at terrifying speed the pig 'bunted', an aerobatic move where the pig is forced into an inverted loop and speeds away upside down."

sorry no graphic.

[CoffmanStarter]

TJ ... Brilliant :D:D:D:D ... I love PPRuNe :ok:

[clicker]

So pilot bails out of the pink pig and is almost hit by Coff who's still looking for the pig.

Mystery sorted.

[thing]

I had flown up to Sherburn to meet a friend for lunch. We got talking to a guy in the restaurant who was there as a guest of someone. He had been working in the Congo doing some research into tropical diseases. There were only two people in the country doing this work.

About two weeks later I'm flying back from somewhere and decide to stop at Gamston to try out their restaurant for lunch as it had a good reputation (well deserved too). I'm sitting at my table when two guys sat at the adjacent table. We struck up a conversation and it turns out they were driving down the A1; one of them knew about Gamston eatery and they had stopped for lunch also. Turns out that one of them was the other guy doing the Congo research.

I bought a lottery ticket that week. I didn't win.

[Davita]

Lufthansa were taxiing out at Heathrow when ATC advised them to stop and allow BA to pass and T.O. first.

The LH pilot asked "Vy dose BA hav ze priority over ze LH?"

ATC responded "Coz they came out this morning and put towels at the end of the runway."

This refers to the German habit to reserve deckchairs at holiday resorts. They often send one holiday member down to the swimming pool early to hang towels over the best deckchairs.

[CoffmanStarter]

Nutty ... Not me :eek:

[CoffmanStarter]

Davila, Thing ... many thanks for your contributions ... love the "beach towel" banter :ok:

[thing]

Belize '78. Every so often we had to go up country for some reason; I vaguely remember that it was something to do with hurricanes. Anyway, there's a little village with your usual corry iron shacks and one has a coke sign outside. We go in and there's a white guy with a Yorkshire accent behind the counter. Turns out he was born two streets away from me and lived in Belize for 'legal' reasons...

On Tambourine Mountain in Queensland, which is a favourite haunt of me and mrs thing, not exactly on the tourist route, we were looking around a crystal shop when I heard a familiar accent. I made conversation and quickly realised I was talking to an old primary school classmate from 50 years ago. He was on holiday and had stuck a pin in a map to decide where to go on that day.

[Wander00]

Many years ago, looking through a then girlfriend's bookshelf I came across a copy of "Blues Fell this Morning" by Paul Oliver -slight shiver - he was my art Master at grammar school in Harrow. Took another book down and read the name of the previous owner inside . "That your ex-husband?" I asked. "Yes, why?" "Small guy, brought up in West London?" - a few more questions and established it was the guy I sat next to in primary school in Pinner. Avoided her book shelves after that.

[Bog Brush]

Great stuff guys :ok:

[Smeagol]

Back in the early 1980’s I was an engineer working for an oil company in the Sumatran jungle (Indonesia) and, due to the copious free time available and the lack of alternative entertainments ( this was a location known as ‘The Green Cage’ !), I was the Hon Sec of the golf club. As such it fell to me to liaise with the various sponsors of the, almost weekly, golf tournaments (there were some compensations for living there) and when they visited to take them out for a few holes of golf.
On one such occasion, I was entertaining a visitor from a service company based in Singapore who happened to originate from the NE of England in Gateshead, I mentioned that I had lived in near there at Whickham quite recently, when working there on a previous job. He remarked that it was, indeed, Whickham that he hailed from and the street that he grew up in was in close proximity to the street where I had resided.
Strange coincidence.
He then mentioned that his manager in Singapore also came from the very same local area and gave the name of the street where he owned a house. I asked his manager’s name and when told I recognised it as it was his house I had rented about two years earlier!
It is, sometimes, a very small world we live in.

[thing]

Johnny Johnson and Laddie Lucas wrote a book called Winged Victory. When my father was alive I thought I would buy him a copy as I knew he had met Johnny on several occasions.

I drove up to his house and said I had a gift for him, he said he had one for me.

I gave him the copy of Winged Victory. He smiled and gave me a copy of Winged Victory signed by Johnny. It is now obviously one of my most treasured possessions.

[NutLoose]

Deci, first night there, told U.S bars out of bounds due to fights etc, so naturally we made our way over and had a wicked night of drinking, followed by back to the U.S block to continue shooting cans, In case you do not know, puncture the bottom put to mouth, pull ring pull and time how long to drink it.. Following day at work see these Americans worse for wear and swearing blind they will never drink with us again...

Roll on a few months and detached to Jever, reverse the Sherpa (remember those) up to the block and we are unloading crates of beer we brought with us when we hear a groan and a NOOOOO, who should it be but the same Americans and another session ensued...

About a month later, bimbles into a bar in Münchengladbach and who do we walk into, the same Americans, needless to say a rematch took place and they failed again :)

If i didn't know better i would have said they were stalking us, as we saw them on several more detachments after that. :E

[CoffmanStarter]

All good stuff chaps ... great to see a few new "names" joining in :D:D:D:D

Keep em coming ... and if you're worried ... I'm sure the Statute of Limitations applies :ok:

[CoffmanStarter]

Nutty ...

If i didn't know better i would have said they were stalking us, as we saw them on several more detachments after that ...

Nah ... I'm sure they were just in awe of one of the RAF's finest aero engineers :ok:

[AR1]

In 1979 i was a single 18 year old LAC on his first posting and proud (but impoverished) owner of an Eastern Bloc MZ ES150 Motorcycle. Earles type forks.... looked about 30 years old but was in fact 3 years old. I lived in one of the blocks with the dubious privilege of having the US Marines on the upper floor.
One day that Autumn, I decoked the head and barrel on the road outside my block at St Mawgan, a 5000 mile job on a Two Stroke due to carbon buildup from the total loss oil system.

Fast forward to August 1991 and I visit my wifes family at Dyess AFB TX where my Brother in Law is a Crew Chief on B1-B. I knew he'd once been a US Marine and in fact we'd overlapped at St Mawgan by 3 Months. He gets out his picture album, and on turning the page, I stared at the picture in disbelief. - The picture he'd took from his room window shows the Cornish countryside - and me kneeling on the floor carrying out my de-coke.

[Canadian Break]

At the beginning of the Great War (obviously not so great for the poor buggers involved!) and my paternal grandfather's two elder brothers were conscipted - going into different battalions of the Royal Warwicks (as they were then I think) in 1915 and they both went their seperate ways. Fast forward to late one very dark and windy night in 1916 in the centre of Ypres. Two lines of soldiers - one coming "out" of the line and the other going "in" are stationary side by side. The elder brother who was coming out of the lines heard a voice he recognised and shouted over - bear in mind it was too dark to see much - it was his younger brother whom he had not seen since they were both conscripted just about to go into the Front Line! They both survived to tell the tale!:ok:CB

[Davita]

As some pilots here may attest, the B747 is a fairly easy A/C to land smoothly, unless it is very light.
I was an F/E on B747 for around 10 years and, on one trip on an empty cargo series 200, my skipper did a flawless approach and flare but the A/C just kept gliding on and on...eventually we 'crashed' onto the runway and did a bounce. I hadn't done that since my Hastings flying days.

There was a deathly hush in the flight deck till we chocked in when Capt Pete said to me "I guess you'd better give the gear a check for a heavy landing."
I responded "Can you request some transport then coz I think we left it on the runway!"
The F/O giggled and Capt Pete laid into him.......he said nothing to me coz we were both recently divorced flatmates, and best pals.:E

[SASless]

In a Land far away....many years ago.....in another Life.....departing our home airfield headed for Indian Country.....crossing the barbed wire perimeter.....from the right hand door gunner position is heard...."Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatattatt!".....then complete silence.

I asked on the Intercom in a very calm, paced, soothing way...."Errrrr.....WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT!" (or suitable Army Warrant Officer words to that general effect).

In reply...."Mechanical Malfunction on the Right Hand M-60, Sir!"

"OH?" says I.

"Yessir the entire trigger mechanism fell off when I shut the feed cover while loading the ammo belt into the weapon, Sir!" says the Crew Chief who was manning the Gun.

He further explained when the Machine Gun ran away as the Trigger works fell from the gun.....he reached up and twisted the Ammo Belt and thus stopped the gun from firing.

I asked if any rounds had gone inside the Barbed Wire.....and he along with the other two Crewmembers in back swore a Blood Oath that none had.

They Lied.....as I should have expected when all three of them were using "Sir" at the end of their every sentence and statement. That alone should have been a big red flag.

I spent weeks writing Statements and answering Letters from way up the Food Chain....and in time all quieted down. No one had been hurt....but one Loach Pilot from a Cav unit had a very interesting morning. He was sat in his lawn chair cleaning his pistol and rifle....when a string of machine gun bullets marched by him.....with one round hitting on each side of his lawn chair....throwing dirt and dust all over him and his almost clean weapons.

Fast forward.....Army National Guard unit of Hueys.....weekend Drill....bunch of us enjoying Beer and shooting Pool in our Officers Mess. Story telling begins....and one of the guys begins to relate an account that started...."There I was....sat in my lawn chair and a Chinook strafed me!

At the end of the story with much commiseration by those assembled.....someone looked at me and said...."Hey Sasless.....didn't you fly Chinooks out of Phu Loi?"

It is certainly a very small World!

[NutLoose]

The MZ thread brings back a long buried memory..

Raf Odiham and some of the bikers ( I was one) decided we would have a Saturday out to Southampton to go ice skating, I having never skated I decided to go as it was a lovely day, so off we trotted down the A whatever, it was a good ride, though at the time I owned a new RD250LC and most of the other guys were on Kawasaki 900's etc so naturally I was tail end charlie..
Anyway I digress, we arrived at the said ice rink and found it closed on account of a burgler falling through the roof, killing himself in the process, and soaking into the ice over night.
A bit dischuffed we sped back through Southampton and proceeded to cane it back towards Odiham, as usual I was tail end charlie and about 7 miles outside of Southampton I noticed another bike coming up behind me and weaving in and out of the heavy traffic as I was, presently he drew level and I noticed it was a Southampton copper who waving his 4 fingers at me indicated the speed limit that was lower that what we were actually doing :O and then he floored it and was gone....
Phew I thought, that was a bit of luck, about 3 miles further on I past the same policeman in the layby issuing a ticket to a Cpl off the Section who was on I think a Yamaha 750..
Anyway eventually I arrived back at camp and everyone not expecting to see me back so soon enquired if I had seen DM to which I gleefully regailed the tale..
Presently DM turfed up not looking happy having got a speeding ticket, looking at me he says "and you, that damn copper said he chased us from Southampton and taking nearly 7 miles to catch up with you decided he couldn't face going back and saying it had took him so long to catch a 250, so he passed you by until he found a larger bike which he stopped and did, I.E me"

:E

Sometimes size doesn't matter

..

[Airborne Aircrew]

Many moons ago I spent a tour in Belize and got quite matey with a WOII on 7RHA, (Royal Horse Artillery). My tour came to an end and I flew off on the gzomey bird never to see him again.

A year or two later my future wife emigrated to the UK. When one does so one has to register at the local police station within a given period. Obviously registration wasn't as important as certain other admin functions so it got left a bit late. Back then I didn't have a car and I didn't have a drivers license so I was a Public Transport Warrior.

With a couple of days remaining we go to the Ash Vale cop shop because that's where we live and because it's in Surrey like we are. They tell us that they can't accommodate, we have to go to Aldershot which, as we all know is in Hampshire... :ugh: We hopped a bus and went to Aldershot. No dice in Aldershot, wrong county you see. We need to go to Farnham... in Surrey. :rolleyes: Hopped a train to Farnham only to be told they can't help, we need to go to Guildford, (the County Town of Surrey). We went home.

Next day we hop a train to Guildford arriving there about lunchtime only to be told that the Guildford copshop is not the place for this it can only be done at Surrey Constabulary, (the HQ of the Surrey police), which happens to be about ten miles out of town, on top of a hill in the middle of nowhere with no public transportation going within even a couple of miles of it.

Needless to say, future wife is a bit upset and, to add insult to injury, as we step out of the copshop to plan our next move the sky opened in typical British fashion. Being quick thinking and decisive I determined that it was:-

a) Lunchtime, and
b) Right across the street was a pub.

We sit down and got a beer and were trying to decide if we have enough cash for about 20 miles of taxi fare when I hear "Ginge... From Belize? Bloody hell mate"... Yep, it's my mate from 7RHA... We start chatting and the subject gets to why we are in the pub so I relate the story to him and a big smile comes on his face. It turns out he's done his 22 years and is planning on getting out. He's on a course that looks at various options for post service employment and he's looking into the Police. It just happens that he's there in the pub with a group of future civvies and a Major with an Army bus and they are on their way to the Surrey Constabulary. A quick chat with the Major and a couple of beers and we saved ourselves a taxi fare up and down that damned hill.

Remarkable in that not only did we meet 4,000+ miles away with no reason to expect to ever meet again but that he was going to the very same, god forsaken destination in the middle of nowhere we were... :ok:

Never seen him since...

[Flight_Idle]

Some years post RAF this, but quite true.

A hailstorm at a certain middle eastern airbase, stones about 1 1/2 inches across, some lumped into blocks maybe 4 inches wide. It was fast & furious, I was indoors at the time, but on going out, the stones covered my boots.

Lots of car windscreens smashed, many dented bonnets, aircraft damaged, particularly the control surfaces.

One guy who ended up with a dented bonnet, actually did a swap with an identical vehicle (Except it was a different colour) he had the top sprayed the colour to match his vehicle, but neglected to spray the underside.

A short while later, he took his vehicle to the MT section for a buckshee service, but as luck would have it, the Colonel who mysteriously found a mismatched dented bonnet on his car happened to walk in & put two & two together!

Guilty man sent home on next flight shortly followed by his wife & kids.

Gone was his very high tax free salary, gone the free house, gone all the other perks, all for the want of a car bonnet!

After his hasty exit, he was referred to as 'Robin Hood'

[taxydual]

1979,. I was sent to Washington DC, on duty and was told to wear uniform.

After doing what I was there to do, I wanted a beer. I ended up walking into a bar quite near the White House. Sat at the bar was my Mothers' next door neighbours eldest son. His name was Marshall Kennedy. (RIP 1982).

"Marshall, is that you?" I said. Indeed it was.

Unbeknownst to me, the bar emptied quite quickly.

The bar owner was not happy.

After assuring him we were English (and no, I didn't know Bert from Werssustooshire) he then explained that Marshall, the first name could be mistaken for Marshal, they of the United States Marshal profession.

His clientele, obviously, were law abiding citizens. Not.

I left ASAP back to the hotel.

[BEagle]

Yet another OP WARDEN trip, flying yet another Spam on the usual ROZ2 AAR mission. Having done the necessary, we're on our way home chatting idly about the usual things - beer, cars and girls.

I happen to mention to the Spam that we were once over on a detachment in the US, which included a beach barbi'. I think it was in Hawaii, but could have been Florida. Anyway, the point being that amongst the US hosts was a girl who looked utterly stunning in her swimsuit - lightly tanned, long blonde hair and a gorgeous figure. Only one snag, I recalled, her father was a USAF colonel who, to put it mildly, would have made Norman Schwarzkopf look like a pussy...

"What was his name?" asked the Spam
"T*m N*******e"
"You know him??" came the somewhat incredulous reply.
"Yes"
"Holy $hit - he's my father-in-law! But did you really see my wife's young sister in a swimsuit? She's a real fox!"
:oh:

[diginagain]

The Desk Sergeant at Cheltenham Police Station early one morning in June 2001 was the son of a woman I delivered newspapers to in Hull in 1973. Which was fortuitous........

[Fox3WheresMyBanana]

About halfway through my first tour on "aluminium death tubes", I get a random letter to report to London for some medical tests. Turns out to be some kind of looking-at-pictures psychology stuff. After about a day of this, I get a "Thanks very much", but no explanation at all.

Three years later, bump into an RAF trick cyclist at a Mess function, and discover by chance he was part of the test team.

"You were doing a test the Swedes use to weed out crazies from pilot applicants. We did the test on Front Line aircrew to see the results"

"And?"

"We found a strong negative correlation"

"You mean we're all crazy?"

"By Swedish parameters, yes. In fact we recommended the RAF did adopt the tests and select those who 'failed'. The top brass put a nix on it in case the press ever found out. You can imagine the headlines."

"So, I'm a nutcase?"

"Probably"




.

[ericferret]

On holiday in the South of France we went to the Altiport at Courcheval. Wandering in to the heliport I engaged in a three way conversation with a French helicopter engineer bending spanners on an Alouette 3, using the wife as an interpreter (apart from a holding helicopter and fixed wing pilots licenses she is also a talented multi language linquist, makes you sick really).

After a while the French engineer said do you know Michel Vautier he's a helicopter engineer and works in England?

Rather stunned I was able to say that I had been working with him the previous year.

Amazed how small the world is especially when you are stood on top of an Alp!!

[Airborne Aircrew]

If the theory of six degrees of separation is true it's not really that hard to meet people you know who know someone else you know... is it?

[Coochycool]

Well howzabout this one then.

In a previous life I worked as a postman, the main reason being that it allowed time off whenever I wanted it, useful when your doing a PPL or just want to go travelling.

Anyway after 3 months of belligerence I finally managed to land a visa to enter the Islamic Republic of Iran and first stop was a tiny mountain village thick with snow where only one other group of tourists had been dumb enough to go.

In establishing that we were both from Scotland they told me they ran the Italian restaurant in such and such a village.

Well I just happened to be the postman for that particular village, and though I'd never met them before I was able to tell them their surname and home address!

They must have thought I was secret service or something after that!

[Davef68]

No Mil content to this one, but it does involve aviation!

One side of the family came from the North east of England and some of them emigrated to Oz around the turn of the 19th/20th century. In 70s, Aunt doing some family history visits elderly cousins in NE to obtain family records, to be told a young Australian couple had visited a couple of weeks before on a similar quest - descendants of emigrants.

Fast forward to a few years back and Aunt goes to Oz to visit childhood pal, and decides to look up family history whilst there. Discovers that emigrant cousin had founded town out there and was commemorated in the local museum, which was their original cottage.(Just up the road from where her pal lived)

On the way home, she stops off in Singapore for a couple of days - a last minute decision. Boards plane for return flight (aviation content!!) and is sitting ext to an Australian lady of similar age. Although not normally one who converses with strangers, they start to chat and Aunt tells them about why she was in Oz, visiting old pal etc. Lady says they are going to UK to trace her husbands family tree. Aunt then says, "oh, when I was in Oz I looked up a branch of my family", and explains about the cottage and museum. Aunt notices that the lady is looking at her very strangely. 'Oh, have you heard of that place?' she asks.

"Yes, thats my great grandmother (or similar relation, I forget the detail)". Turns out this was also the couple who had visited the elderly relative in the 70s just before Aunt!! She got on radio Four with that story!

[reynoldsno1]

Many moons ago, in a far-off land, a padre asked the flight commander of a small military unit if a scattering of ashes over an airfield could be arranged for a former stalwart of the small air force. In the spirit of military comradeship, the flight commander agreed, and arranged for a short flight to be conducted using a small, indigenous single piston training aircraft.

The ashes were duly delivered in a tasteful aluminium container, and the crew launched the aircraft into the darkening ether. The aerodynamic qualities of the aircraft were such, that when the canopy was opened in flight, a 12 inch piece of wood was required to jam the perspex open so that it would not close itself. In turn, in the interests of flight safety, this piece of wood was joined to the seat harness by a length of cord. Following a short risk assessment analysis on this particular day, the urn of ashes was also attached to the harness by a length of cord.

After reaching a height of approximately 200ft above the aerodrome, the aircraft was turned into wind to track along the centreline of the runway. On the aircraft apron, family members gathered closely around the padre, genuflecting in the late afternoon rays of the sun and reflecting on their memories of the late departed. In the cockpit, the canopy was unlatched and opened with some effort, as the latent forces of aerodynamics struggled to close it again. The 12 inch piece of wood was duly allotted its jamming position, and the lid of the urn unscrewed and carefully stowed in a pocket of the scatterer’s overalls, flying.

Abeam the apron the urn was thrust sharply upwards, in a vertical plane perpendicular to the ground below, in order for the slipstream to catch the contents and scatter those mortal remains to the corners of the airfield. The initial risk analysis had ensured that the urn would not be lost, but proved to be less than comprehensive regarding the optimum length of cord attaching it to the harness. The inertia of the urn contents was abruptly impeded, and the ashes failed to achieve canopy escape velocity.

It took approximately 10 seconds for full control of the aircraft to be regained, and a quick decision was made to leave the canopy open for the subsequent return to terra firma. Shortly after landing, the padre visited the crew whilst they were divesting themselves from their curiously dusty apparel, and announced ‘well, that went well’. Mortal remains as ashes can best be described as a ‘bit chunky’, and it took a few more seconds for the padre to realise what had actually happened…

[SOSL]

Many years ago I was the non aircrew Eng in charge of delivering some stuff to a place near New Orleans. We had flown over the pond in a C130 and having delivered we expected a night stop and then rtb.

Didn't happen! There was an engine snag on start-up next morning and the GE decided we needed an engine change (may have had something to do with the huge pool of oil on the pan underneath no. 3 engine). Captain signals back to UK base for advice - turns out we have to wait for an engine change team to be flown out with a new engine. Given the then tasking scenarios we could be stuck in New Orleans for a week.

Being a bit of a foodie, I asked a USAF Major if he could tell me about the best restaurants in town. He did and I spent 3 days visiting them and asking if they would let me into their kitchens to observe their cuisiniers at work. Two of them did and I had a fantastic time seeing truly magnificent food being delivered to the tables of the rich and influential (sadly, you had to be rich and influential to experience the best cuisine).

Many years later I am OC Eng Ops Sqn on a large base in UK and we host a summer detachment of the US Air National Guard and their C130s. After work on day 1 of the det I drop into the OM bar for a quick snifter on my way home.

You've guessed it! I ran into that same USAF Major, who was now flying SLF around the world in a livery that I can't remember.

The thing was that he had somehow found out that I was on the Station staff and he gave me a magnificent cookbook titled "American Cooking: Creole and Acadian". It has given me and my friends so much pleasure in the dining room, over the years.

Rgds SOS

[Airborne Aircrew]

Ahh... I just recalled an even bigger series of coincidences.

In 2001 myself and my brothers met in San Francisco to watch the Oakland Raiders play the Minnesota Vikings on the sunday and then watch the San Francisco 49ers play the Pittsburgh Steelers on Monday Night Football. My oldest brother flew in from Jakarta and my youngest brother from the UK while I flew from Detroit to Minneapolis, (home of the Vikings), and on to San Francisco.

The flight from DTW to MSP was uneventful but upon my arrival at the gate things started. Sitting at the gate was Rich Gannon the injured QB of the Raiders. No big deal, he played for the Vikings for a few years and his home is there.

I got on the flight to SFO and found myself sat next to a young couple. For whatever reason we didn't speak until the aircraft began it's approach to SFO. It turned out that they live in San Francisco and, funnily enough, were going to the Raiders game on Sunday afternoon. As we parted company I jokingly said I'd see them at the game. It's a joke because the then Network Associates Colosseum holds some 68,000 fans.

Having met up with my brothers we decide to hit Fisherman's Wharf, a well known tourist trap and hardly somewhere one would expect the locals to go. Come 9:00pm and the beer is flowing in the establishment of one of the fine purveyors of vittles when who should walk in but this young couple. Beers and yarns were shared for an hour or so and they went on their way with the same promise to see them at the game.

Next morning, despite hangovers, oldest brother wants to go back to Fisherman's Wharf to the NFL shop there. We haul ourselves down there and while wandering aimlessly round the store in some pain who do I bump into? Yep, the young couple. Now we are sure we will meet at the game...

Sunday comes and we have good seats right by an aisle that comes up from the concourse. Our attention is constantly drawn to one particularly loudmouthed fan but no couple. As halftime is winding down and people are returning to their seats who should appear in the aisle? Yep, that damned couple were there. All of us were quite astounded. They were seated about 20 rows behind us.

You'd think the weekend's coincidences would be over wouldn't you? Nope, not close. We find our seats at the 49ers game and we are at about 40,000 feet in the nosebleed section. Were watching the game when we hear someone shouting loudly "Hey you three"... Upon looking around we find "loudmouth" from the day before who promptly yells "You lot were at the Raiders game yesterday"... We acknowledged his powers of observation and went back to watching the game.

We're not done yet. Back then I had rather long hair that I would wear in a ponytail and I smoked. After arriving at SFO the next morning I hesitate outside to get a last gasp on the smokes when I hear someone behind me say "Oy, ponytail". I look around to see a man I have never seen before in my life. He said "You were at the Raiders game on Sunday and the 49ers game last night". I asked him how he knew and he said he was sat in the same row to our left at the Raiders game and two rows directly behind us at the 49ers game.

By this time the coincidences were reaching quite preposterous levels so I said "Don't tell me, you're flying to MSP"... He was, and was sat across the aisle from me... :ooh:

All in all a very strange weekend... Bloody good fun though... :ok:

[Wwyvern]

In the mid 1960s I was on loan service as a Basic QFI with a Commonwealth country’s air force.

One day, one of our students crashed in the jungle. This jogged my memory and I recalled a dream I had had the previous night. In the dream, I was with a student, spinning uncontrollably towards the ground, but I woke before the crash.

Some weeks later, I had an exact repeat of the dream, and during the following day another student crashed in the jungle. Both students survived.

A few weeks later, I had the exact same dream again. No crashes happened during that day, and the dream sequence has not been repeated.

Years later and I was on holiday with some old colleagues from the national air force to which I had been loaned. Remembering old times over a chota peg or two, my ex-flight commander related the nearest he came to crashing one of our trainers. He and another instructor were on a CT flight, and their engine failed. Seconds before they were about to hit the tree tops of the jungle, the engine fired up and they came home safely. The date was the day of my third dream.

[thing]

I had a phone conversation with my father in the middle of the night.The phone actually rang (my wife heard it), I picked it up and he kept saying he was OK and not to worry. It then dawned on me in my groggy state that he had died a couple of months before, I said 'Dad aren't you supposed to be dead?' and the phone went to a dialling tone.

My best friend died a couple of years ago. The night he died I felt a distinct tug at my duvet cover when I was in bed and the toothbrush holder fell into the bath. He always used to get up first and switch his wife's curling tongs on and bring her a cup of coffee. For some time after he died she would wake up to find her curling tongs had been on and the kettle had boiled.

A friend of mine who is a BA captain also makes guitars. He made me one for helping him out at guitar shows. We hadn't spoken for a while and about four in the morning his guitar with the holder (I have a wall of guitars at home) came off the wall with a crash but without leaving a mark on the guitar. Fearing the worst and thinking he'd had an incident I thought I ought to ring him but before I had the chance my phone rang and it was Neil with 'alright mate, haven't heard for a while thought I would give you a bell'...

Weird stuff happens.

[Davita]

I only joined this forum this May and did not previously know of its existence.

I had not seen or heard from a very good friend (a Britannia Navigator and 10 Sqn Ops Officer) for many years, so I searched for his name/background.

My search brought me to this forum because of a post from another ex RAF colleague I had known over 20 years ago. I contacted him thru' this forum and asked how to find our mutual friend 'Joe'.

He responded "I'm sorry to tell you Joe died yesterday, his funeral is on Friday!"

[SASless]

AA.....you reckon the FBI et al are on to you?

[Dak Man]

A chap on whose farm in Lusaka I was renting a house (and to whom Mrs DM is eternally grateful to, as he was instrumental in saving my pretty much dead bacon due to celebral malaria), it turned out that unbeknownst at that time to either of us, we had been in the same pub in South Wales, UK a few years earlier, celebrating NY Eve. Quite a famous family, at that time his youngest son was on the verge of his first Sprinbok cap, he later went on to captain them through the infamous days in the "Kamp Staaldraad" (Camp Steel Wire) and the humiliation at Twickers.

[teeteringhead]

AA.....you reckon the FBI et al are on to you?

Well I'm sure ginger ponytails just have to be illegal!!! ;)

[Airborne Aircrew]

SAS:

Probably... :ok:

[Box Brownie]

Back in the early eighties, I took a friend to the RAF Museum. Dave had been ground crew on Liberators in India during WW11.Mid afternoon we decided it was time to leave. I suggested one last look around the shop.
Some minutes later I noticed an elderly gentleman with Dave. The gentleman was becoming quite agitated and kept saying he knew Dave.
Dave was adamant that he did not know the gentleman. To ease the situation I asked the chap if he had travelled far to the Museum.
The conversation went something like:

Gent - From Stratford on Avon
Me I live near there at Wellesbourne
Gent So do I
Me Whereabouts in Wellesbourne
Gent Mountford Close
Me So do I

Further questions brought out the fact that he was a retired Wg Cmdr who had been the manager of the Officers Mess at Gaydon. Dave ran the paper shop in the next village and used to deliver papers to the mess. The chap turned out to have had a most interesting service career, but that as they say, is another story.

[Wander00]

Took son and his friend (both then about 10 or 11) to Duxford and we are in the Land warfare bit, and the Monty caravans. Showing on the closed loop is the D Day landing and the famous clip of the landing craft ramp going down opposite the single house on the shore near Ouistreham. Watching it are an elderly lady and gentleman. I apologised for the noisier of the two boys (young W, heavily into all things military). "Not to worry she said, just my husband was behind the camera man watching him film, but has never seen the film itself". I offered to remove young W, who by now was quizzing the elderly man. "No leave him" she said. " My husband will find it easier to talk to your son about his experience than to me." And the two talked earnestly for about half an hour. Young W still talks about the experience 14 years later.

[Davita]

I heard a story of a WW2 Japanese zero pilot, after the war, moved to a house in Honolulu. His American neighbor came to introduce himself and give a welcome to the neighborhood.
They both swapped war stories and the American said he was a tailgunner. The Japanese then bowed deeply and said "I want to congratulate you, Sir."
The American, slightly awed but proud, said "What for?'
"For being lousy shot!" replied the Oriental gent.

[clicker]

I went to a boarding school in Twickenham back in the 60-70's and became good friends with one lad and our aviation interests started there due to the fact that Heathrow's departures stopping lessons at times when on easteries.

At the end of my final term I left but never got the chance to keep in touch.

Over 10 years later I'm walking towards the Sgt's mess at (then) RAF Wattisham when I hear a voice, "clicker, do you want a lift?" to find my old school mate who had been an armorer there for a couple of years.

[Fox3WheresMyBanana]

I leave the RAF and start teaching. The school was tiny and nowhere near anywhere I'd been based.
The chap allocated to be my teacher 'buddy' had a son who used to be in the RAF too (though that wasn't known to the guy who allocated him).
Turns out his son used to be one of my flying instructors on Hawks.
I take my first class. One of the girls has a surname I recognise. Turns out her dad used to fly one of the same aircraft types as me.
Turns out her dad used to be the flying instructor of the son who used to be my flying instructor.
Three weeks later, since she was a member of the RAF section of the cadet force and I'd been asked to run it, I took her flying.

Circle complete!

Oh, and one of the other teachers turned out to have played in the same football team as me, aged 10.

[SASless]

On my way home from work....was a Police Officer on a big City....lived in a small town nearby. As I pass through our High Street...I observe a heck of a commotion.....attended by two State Troopers. Me turns right and pulls up behind the two Police Cars....step out (Jeans, Tee, and Runners)...to assist.

Seems an Intoxicated one armed fellow had roared through a Driver License checkpoint doing about a 100MPH and a short pursuit followed. While doing the paperwork....said one armed guy got to squirming around....One Trooper got out of the back seat of the Trooper Car...opened the front passenger door to get the Perp out....Perp takes a slice at him with a knife....got some Shirt, Necktie, and Undershirt...but no skin. On the second slice...he got one arm of the Trooper...from Armpit to end of the thumb....but not deep.

He then gets knocked down...and kicked squarely in the chops.....at which point I arrive on the scene. Two Troops discussed how to handcuff the guy....and I saw things were under control and went on home for my Dinner and a beer or two.

37 Years later.....I buy a house four Counties away and discover the Trooper that got cut with the Knife is my next door neighbor....he retired as a Captain from the State Troopers.

[bigal1941]

The Cameraman in question would have been Ronnie Noble who after the war, joined the BBC was heavily involved with Sports Department in the 1960's, having moved on from filming to producing. Prior to that he had reprised his Normandy exploits by filming the landings in North Korea and was something of a legend at Lime Grove. Alan

[DeepestSouth]

Triangular Cranwell/Sandhurst/Dartmouth sports competition at Dartmouth in 1973. We in the Cranwell water polo team manage to hold the much-better Sandhurst team in check, 'possibly' with the assistance of some underwater 'tactical play' which led to some sending off for Sandhurst players. That evening, we gave one-to-one coaching to the Dartmouth team in the pool, and the following day they held Sandhurst to a draw! Much jubilation all round except the Sandhurst team who were very 'booters' and didn't even manage to attend the post-event tea!

Roll forward to 1979, I'm now a recruiter and giving talks at a huge comprehensive - over 2000 pupils and nearly 200 staff. I'm in the staff room having a cuppa, teachers milling around, fag smoke everywhere when a voice says "DS you bu**er!". Turns out it is the Dartmouth chap I'd 'coached', now out of the RN and teaching at said comprehensive.

Small world!

[albatross]

I do believe that the film to which you refer was shot by a Canadian cameraman and the troops on board were North Shore Regiment.

D-Day Film of Juno Beach - YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DV7mK0iT3P8#at=22)

I could well be wrong and it really doesn't matter as it represents a lot of very brave men.

[Wander00]

albatross - that is what it says here too

The Riddle Of The D-Day Footage | Legion Magazine (http://legionmagazine.com/en/index.php/2010/04/the-riddle-of-the-d-day-footage/)

[CoffmanStarter]

That picture of D-Day has just sent a shiver down my spine. My Dad was a 2nd Lt with the Royal Engineers who landed on Sword Beach a few moments before H Hour 6th June to clear mines ahead of the main landings ... He was awarded the MC for his D-Day bravery ... A copy of that very picture was in his papers when I dealt with his Estate a few years back.

[lonkmu]

SASless - how did they handcuff the one armed guy in the end?

[AR1]

Back in the day when being Gay was a no no, and I was Cpl at a closet Wiltshire airfield..
Myself and a JT were out across the airfield servicing some Transmitters, it was a stinking hot day in a stinking hot building and despite the door and windows being open very uncomfortable - especially in your heavy number 2's.
Look B*** says I, I'm going to take my trousers and shoes off.. thinking about it a bit, B*** replies good idea, me too.

So we're stood in just working blue shirts, underpants and service socks black in this building in the middle of nowhere....when a fully clothed Flt Lt knocks on the door and steps inside. He stares at us, we stare at him...

It's a bit hot in here sir.... I break the silence.

That's alright Cpl, he responds, I'm looking for MTSS. - I walk to the door point towards the hanger (he'd already driven past) he jumps in his Metro and without another glance in our direction drives off.

Never heard another word of it.:ok:

[SASless]

The two Troops finally after quite a bit of discussion decided to use the one Wrist and the guys Belt.

I would have used the one Wrist and the opposing ankle pulled up behind the guy and chunked his sorry ass into the back of the Police Car....with enthusiasm.

In reality....if the perp had pulled such a stunt on me or one of my fellow city cops....we would not have arrested the guy.... we would have had to wait on the Coroner to clean up the street.

Bottom line....the Troopers did not properly search the guy before putting him into the Police Car....all that could have been avoided.

We would never accuse our State Troopers of being real clever fellows....but by God they sure look sharp and spiffy.

[Tinribs]

I was working for BMI and paxing EMA LHR MME for work the next day.

Arriving at MME I was presented with a suit carrier that looked like mine but was too light. On examination it wasn't mine so a bag switch somewhere

Some weeks later Im sitting with a gang of pilots in the departure lounge at LHR, all off to points various when a nice US lady strolls over and says, are you guys pilots. Bit obvious really black pyjamas on, we all say yes and she asks if we know of an airport called Tea Side. Much laughing then why you ask,, Oh she says this b airline sent my husbands suitcase there last year. Oh really says we trying to look contrite what sort of suitcase, oh a fold over suit carrier

Getting serious here what colour did it have some white shirts in it, yep it was mine where did he leave it, Sofia Bulgaria.

I got it back in the end, G Linaker the Chief Pilot watched this and never forgot it

[gr4techie]

A while back I decided to go out for a long cycle on my road bike.
Road cycling jerseys have 3 deep pockets on the lower back that I stuff various things into.
Anyway, it was a lovely day feeling fit and the bicycle was working well. So I ended up cycling off camp and doing a big circular route through all the country back roads for a few hours.
I got back to the camp gates just as it was getting dark, I stopped at the barrier of the main gate to show my ID card to the guard.
"It's around here somewhere"... Patting down pockets...Bit more fumbling... my wallet is one of these pockets somewhere... still cant find my wallet... Start to panic!
S**t ! If my wallet has bounced out of the back of my cycling jersey it could be anywhere on a route maybe 40 to 50 miles in length! I'll never find something so small across such a big area. I had a grim vision of going through all the hassle of having to cancel bank cards, do without money for days, how am I going to eat? Renew driving licence, ID card, etc.
The guard on the main gate saw me panic as I was frantically searching for my wallet. He then piped up "Ah you must be the owner of the wallet some woman handed into the guardroom an hour ago? She was out walking her dog and found it laying in the middle of a country road".
Whats the chances of that? Not only her coming across such a small object on a big route but what amazes me the most is my wallet finding its way back before I did.
Unfortunately the mystery woman left no contact details but she saved me a lot of trouble, thank you.

[NutLoose]

One of the pilots in the hangar next to us flies a piston twin and left his bunch of keys in the door when he took off, they fell out and actually landed on the perimeter road that they use to check the fence, being just outside the ILS zone there is nothing else near the narrow road but lots and lots of grass, the airport security bod doing a fence check saw them on the road, remembering the aircraft had taken off earlier popped round and asked the pilot later in the day are these yours?

Yes, where did you find them... Ohhh at the end of the runway was the reply.

[bcgallacher]

Some years back while working on the ramp at the terminal in Lagos I lost my wallet with all the essentials in it. Two days later got a call from my base at Manston saying they had my wallet with everything intact. It had been handed in by an MK f/e who said he found it while doing his walk round before departure from the cargo ramp. How it got to the cargo ramp from the passenger ramp I do not know as I had not been there for at least two years. The best guess is that it fell out of my pocket while refueling a 747 and it landed on the bowser chassis,it the fell off on the cargo ramp.

[sittingstress]

In 1989 I got married in Scotland and on return to Laarbruch was issued my first quarter which was in Goch.

We met and became firm friends with the Rigger and his wife at the other end of the row of five houses. Daughter was hatched in Wegberg in 1991 and we returned to the UK in 1992. We were posted to Brize and quartered accordingly.

Rigger and his wife became godparents to daughter later in the year.

In 1993 I was posted to Halton and in the autumn I marched into our new quarter....It was the same one that Rigger and his family had lived in on his fitter's course years before we met.

It was very strange to be shown photos of his family life that had been taken in our front room!

[4mastacker]

I was on a fishing trip out of Minehead and got chatting to the a local who had come along for the trip on the pretext he was helping the skipper. Turned out he was a retired policeman, a very senior policeman actually, and had opted for the quiet Somerset life away from the smell and noise of London. "Were you in the Met then?" I asked whereupon he replied "For my entire police career". I told him I had helped put a load of his colleagues on a Herc which was going out to Anguilla as part of Op Sheepskin back in 1969/70 and recalled the police taking their riot gear, respirators, golf clubs and fishing rods. "I was part of that deployment" he replied. "In fact, I was in charge of the first party and got a bit of a shock when I stepped on board the Hercules. Surely we weren't going to fly out in the freight compartment. That flight was a nightmare and I have never been so glad to get of an aircraft".

Some months later, I'm on holiday with SWMBO and we book into a hotel on North Hill. Who should be the owner, but the aforementioned ex-policeman. After dinner, we settled in the bar and had another long chat over several beers. He then produced an album which contained photos of his deployment, including some taken at Fairford just before they flew out. There, in one of the snaps was yours truly. Mrs 4ma looked at the photo of her husband when he was young, single and happy, then laughed. "Good god" she said "What on earth is that growing on your top lip?" - no mention of my youthful good looks or fine physique. Thanks wifey!.

[BEagle]

As a UAS QFI, I was chatting with the new students one training night. I happened to mention that I'd been a student on the very same UAS back in the early 1970s - at London Queen Mary College.

"Really?", said one rather delightful but somewhat naive young lady, "My mother was at QMC then. Perhaps you knew her?"

This was too good to miss. "Hmm, perhaps I did, err....'know' her. How old did you say you were?"....:E

The penny dropped as she did some mental arithmetic. "Sir? I'm not sure I quite liked that......:ooh:"

And no, I didn't, before anyone comments. But the student and I are still good platonic friends some 20+ years later!

[Wander00]

During WW2 my Dad was in the fire brigade in London. For some time he was on the same crew as Ernest Lough, who as a boy had recorded "Oh For The Wings of a Dove" at the City Temple. 1986 I am one of 3 RAF officers at what was then Mount Pleasant Airport, the others being a sqn ldr supplier, and a wg cdr navigator from Lyneham. One day as we sat in our portacabin in the Tristar Hangar, from the radio came the usual FIBS pop music, interrupted by the Ernest Lough recording. "Same fire brigade crew as my old man in the blitz in May 41 when the City Temple was hit", I said. Wg cdr perked up - "Say that again", so I repeated it. "Then your old man and mine were in the same crew that night", so later we had a beer on that little coincidence.

[orionsbelt]

In 1969/70 I was part of the servicing team on the Harrier Simulator at RAF Wittering.

At that time the simulator was still being built /commissioned by Link Miles. Part of that work including the final build / very detailed Artwork on the Airfield Model. Link Miles contracted very skilled expert professional artists to do the job. One of these experts was a chap named Warrick?

We got to know these chaps well and shared a few beers etc. When the simulator was completed and taken over by the RAF these chaps left the site and we lost touch.

3 or 4 years later I was driving home to Somerset from Wittering for a weekend off, and at about 0200hrs in the morning stopped at a M4 service station for coffee and eats. As I sat at my table I saw this bloke looking at me, and well I’ll be dammed it was Warrick.

Its turned out that Warrick was working full time as a Crain driver in the south Wales steel works, but was also still working as an artist and on his days off would hitch hike up to London to work at the Royal College of Art (or some such place). He was hitching home for an early shift the next day and was stuck and needed a lift. Well it was out of my way to cross the Seven Bridge but so what, I took him almost to his home.
I have often thought about his artwork and hope he has been successful. Grand Chap with a beautiful view of life.
Ships in the night

***

[500N]

When I was at Uni, I had joined the Army Reserve here in Aus
and after a few years, did Officer Training etc and ended up at
what was called 2 Cdo Coy, I Cdo Reg't. Platoons were named
after the famous Singapore Raids by M & Z Force or Z Special
unit.

Anyway, I also worked at a large Retail store doing security on
the floor. At one store in a not so nice area of Melbourne, an old
gentleman, white hair, always smartly dressed worked the menswear
department. We got on well, he knew of my Army service and
always asked how it was going.

Anyway, the first ANZAC day dawn service at my unit, turned up in uniform for the parade and nearly fell over when I bumped into him. He had a Z Special badge on. We had a chat before and after the parade and he had served with them during the war and he said that was why he took an interest in what I was doing.

I thought the chance of meeting one at work was so slim considering how few were left.

[SASless]

Beags.....was that a typo......did you not mean "1870"?

[NutLoose]

I don't know, they never abolished keel hauling until 1853 and rumour is he witnessed one. :E

[sisemen]

After I left the RAF I emigrated to Western Australia where, for my sins, I was elected as a Shire President for a while. One of the lady councillors, who was my deputy, eventually left and went to live in Tasmania.

A few years later we were on holiday in Tasmania and I idly thought of looking her up. I knew she lived in the Launceston area but not exactly where. Anyway, it all got too difficult and I decided to give it a miss.

As we motored up to Devonport to catch the ferry the galactic ruleress decided that she wanted to visit a stately home - Clarendon House.

http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c92/allan907/clarendon2_zps3acc44ee.jpg (http://s25.photobucket.com/user/allan907/media/clarendon2_zps3acc44ee.jpg.html)

We walked up the steps to the front door and knocked. It took an age for footsteps to echo on the stone floor of the entrance hall and the door eventually creaked open.

Yep. It was my ex deputy President! She was on voluntary guide duties.

[Geezers of Nazareth]

Late 2001 and a planned trip to the USA is canned (11/9, and all that), so my holiday has to be planned for elsewhere. I eventually decided to spend a week in Goa, India just before Xmas. In those days there was only really one way of getting there, and that was a package tour, and only really one company doing the package; also, only one flight a week, so the holiday was either 7-days or 14-days.

Come the day of the start of the trip, a taxi to Heathrow for the Green-Line coach to Gatport Airwick. At Gatwick, check-in for the flight to Goa, and I recognise somebody queuing in front of me ... a bloke that was on the coach from Heathrow. The check-in desk is processing passengers for several flights, so maybe he's going somewhere else?
On the flight, I see him wandering around the cabin a few times!

We arrive in Goa, and eventually claim our bags. As you exit the terminal you are greeted by the tour-rep who directs you to a particular coach. Suitcase-wallah grabs bag, charges me £1 for the privilege, and leads the way to the coach. As I sit on the coach waiting, the bloke from the flight (and the check-in, and the coach!) gets on and is seated a few rows in front of me.
Once the coach is full we set-off to the various hotels and resorts. Matey-boy gets off the coach at the first hotel; he's staying in a hotel about 1 mile away.

6 days later, the coach picks-up at my hotel to go back to the airport, but this time it's doing the journey in reverse order. Oddly enough, matey-boy doesn't get on the coach. At the airport we're all checked-in and waiting to board when I notice that he's already here.
The next time that I see him is at the baggage carousel at Gatwick, and then 20 minutes later we're boarding the same Green-Line coach back to Heathrow.

Step forward 4 years ... I'm in the local building society. The bloke in front of me finishes his business and stands aside, and I walk up to the counter. As I'm sorting out my money, I'm aware that the bloke hasn't moved away and is staring patiently. As I finish and turn to walk away, he says to me "did I see you on a holiday in Goa about 4 years ago"? :eek:

[smujsmith]

As I'm in the last throes of a very nice Jura at the moment, I would relate to you the saga of a Pilot who, to this day, makes racial equality look like "fairy stories". I hasten to say that I only had the honour to fly with this gentleman as my Captain, on Albert, once. The following is the stuff of total denial of prejudice of any sort. Our hero, known to all, but identified here as HJ, if you know him you know it's true, is, and was a pilot, of Carribean extraction who became an Aircraft Captain of the C130 variety.

from top of the drop to handover to local into Grantley Adams on an exercise in support of inter Carribean forces, its the Co pilots landing and HJ is doing the radios. All the way down the "Jive talk" has been flowing from Albert, and now they are handed to Tower;

HJ. - Hello dere Tower, dis here is de Ascot 4579, can ya jig us down on to de Tarmac, at your best speed fellas ? (All authentic lingo)

Tower - Roger Ascot 4579, turn left heading ......

It goes on for about 10 minutes ! Until clearance to land.

Tower - Ascot 4579, cleared to land Rwy 01, after landing Captain and pilot on radio to report to the tower, "and by God one of you had better be black"!!

Second HJism.

Lands first at Banjul, in a stream of 3 Alberts, all night stopping at the same hotel. He's a XX Squadron Captain. The other two crews are from YY ( across the airfield ), they know him not, and he has a plan. As they arrive, both YY Crews are invited to the Albert party room, which happens to be HJs Co pilots suite. They are all there and the Co says, lets have some room service wine chaps, orders are placed and, after the appropriate delay, a knock on the door and in walks the waiter (HJ if not obvious). XX squadron crew Co pilot goes ballistic when he spots the order for reds and whites is wrong. Proceeds to give the waiter a "bloody good hiding and ear cuffing" and waiter exits door screaming in agony. Followed closely by the YY Squadron crews who suggest that the Co might like to prepare his case for assaulting locals etc.

I'm sure there's a few people who knew HJ on this forum, the man was legend and I'm also sure someone can confirm these yarns.

Smudge :ok:

[ksimboy]

Can both confirm and add Smuj. Rock ape roulement to Belize. Due to Hurricane Gilbert giving Jamaica a damn fine blowing Albert spends additional night at Homestead . While sorting rooms out for all at Cutlers Ridge I take he opportunity to give pax heads up about the dangers of visiting the local mall on foot. Breakfast next morning with HJ when 2 x 6ft 27 in rocks arrive at table and inform me they had gone shopping night before. Asking them if it had been ok they informed both of us that "some n***er armed with a knife had attempted to relieve them of their valuables. " We both asked how much they had lost - response was "nothing , we beat the crap out of him and took his wallet "

[kintyred]

Standing looking into a local pond watching a trout....when a lady walks past and I point out said fish. Detecting a familiar foreign accent in her response, I strike up conversation in her language having spent some years on exchange with her country's Air Force. We exchanged notes on life in her country and it transpires that she was a teacher at the school in the village where I lived....at the time I was on exchange. Now resident in UK having married...a pilot!
Never saw her again until attending a house warming at a mates many years later when who should appear?

[smujsmith]

ksimboy,

Did HJ report his missing survival knife :eek:

Smudge :ok:

[ShyTorque]

I once had to delay our takeoff due to poor weather. My co-pilot for the day was a new freelancer who I'd not met before. As the weather wasn't clearing, we decided to go for lunch at a nearby motorway services, just outside the airport.

We began to chat about our previous life history and flying experiences, as pilots do. I had recently returned to UK from working and living in the far east and was talking about some of the folk I'd known out there. As I talked, my gaze suddenly fell on a figure sitting at the next occupied table, with his back to us.

I instantly recognised him as a policeman, one of the people I'd just mentioned, a near neighbour from the far east and a family friend; his sons had played rugby for the same team as my sons! He was travelling back to UK to see his mother, who had been taken ill and had just stopped for a coffee break as he drove up the motorway.

A strange coincidence that we were both there at the same time, he was over 6,000 miles from his home yet he appeared right in the middle of my tale!