RAF Mountain Rescue
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RAF Mountain Rescue
Prompted by an oblique connection to Station Guard Force Meals I'm wondering if there is any mileage in a thread of memories of the RAF MR Service. It's been going a long time and of course there are still five very active teams in the UK at present.
My own service was '76 to '79 at ISK. Most memorable event was Rescue 137 lifting a crashed Bell 212 off a frozen Loch Avon in the Cairngorms, circa March '77. Come to think of, it was often cold on those weekends out.
As I say, there are teams still active and I'd love to hear how things are done now. Similarly, there are still many legendary characters from the service active in the hills in one form or another today who may have contact with proone or prooners.
Finally for now, what does MR have to do with an Aircrew Forum? As has been stated already, forum is for ....and the backroom boys and girls without whom nothing would leave the ground. Army, Navy and Airforces of the World, all equally welcome here...... MR are definitely backroom boys (and girls now, probably). In fact they had two jobs in the service, one their own trade, the other as a Team Member. Let's hear it folks.
My own service was '76 to '79 at ISK. Most memorable event was Rescue 137 lifting a crashed Bell 212 off a frozen Loch Avon in the Cairngorms, circa March '77. Come to think of, it was often cold on those weekends out.
As I say, there are teams still active and I'd love to hear how things are done now. Similarly, there are still many legendary characters from the service active in the hills in one form or another today who may have contact with proone or prooners.
Finally for now, what does MR have to do with an Aircrew Forum? As has been stated already, forum is for ....and the backroom boys and girls without whom nothing would leave the ground. Army, Navy and Airforces of the World, all equally welcome here...... MR are definitely backroom boys (and girls now, probably). In fact they had two jobs in the service, one their own trade, the other as a Team Member. Let's hear it folks.
Nixor ut Ledo
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: In a Beaut of a State
Posts: 499
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
There's got to be a million of 'em. Here's 2 for starters:
There used to be an old cannon parked outside the entrance of the Dragon pub at Laggan (The Laggan Dragon). After a particularly beasty weekend the team stopped off at said pub for a light ale or two. After they were unceremoniously chucked out it was decided to 'liberate' the said cannon. Being too heavy to lift into the back of a 3-tonner it was hitched up and towed back to ISK and secreted in the MRT premises. The cops rolled up the following day and asked for the cannon to be taken back (note: it was all very civilised in them days - no threats of being charged etc)
How did they get on to it so quickly? Simple - just followed the white line trails of the metal gun carriage wheels on the tarmac. Doh!
Sharjah - about 1967 from memory - Hunter on APC managed to become mesmerised by his rockets going in, realised too late on pull up, underwing tanks caught on the top of a slight hill and he managed to spread himself for about 3 miles down the wadi.
When we were called out to pick up the bits the largest that we found was a bit of incinerated skull welded to a piece of bone dome. But I do remember one of the guys shouting out "I've got something 'ere" (ear).
The black humour kept ones mind of the awful task in hand.
There used to be an old cannon parked outside the entrance of the Dragon pub at Laggan (The Laggan Dragon). After a particularly beasty weekend the team stopped off at said pub for a light ale or two. After they were unceremoniously chucked out it was decided to 'liberate' the said cannon. Being too heavy to lift into the back of a 3-tonner it was hitched up and towed back to ISK and secreted in the MRT premises. The cops rolled up the following day and asked for the cannon to be taken back (note: it was all very civilised in them days - no threats of being charged etc)
How did they get on to it so quickly? Simple - just followed the white line trails of the metal gun carriage wheels on the tarmac. Doh!
Sharjah - about 1967 from memory - Hunter on APC managed to become mesmerised by his rockets going in, realised too late on pull up, underwing tanks caught on the top of a slight hill and he managed to spread himself for about 3 miles down the wadi.
When we were called out to pick up the bits the largest that we found was a bit of incinerated skull welded to a piece of bone dome. But I do remember one of the guys shouting out "I've got something 'ere" (ear).
The black humour kept ones mind of the awful task in hand.
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Somewhere over the rainbow.
Age: 80
Posts: 621
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Been checking off and on all day hoping for some stories to appear. MR must be one of the most interesting voluntary duties in the RAF so there must be a whole host of tales to be told. So come on guys let's be having them.
E5
E5
Last edited by Echo 5; 31st Aug 2004 at 07:00.
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
That's what I thought Echo which is why I posted the thread. Either there aren't many readers of that ilk or they're too modest. One possible explanation, in my time aircrew were ineligible for MR due to injury risks and, presumably, because MR was there to rescue them in the first place if they came to grief.
One slightly amusing story from my own stock. One August Sunday as team Kilo is departing Arrochar after a glorious weekend in the hills someone spots some sort of commotion in the water whilst driving along the shores of Loch Long. Transport all stops for a better look, turns out to be some sort of small whale in the loch. However, of more interest was the two female scuba divers changing to go into the water. They were behind some bushes, but from where the team had stopped on a higher road we had a grandstand view of them stripping off before slipping into their wetsuits (and the carpets most definitely matched the curtains, in both instances !). The entire team kept quiet until the dressing was complete whereupon a very appreciative chorus of whistles and applause rang out. No shrinking violets these two, they turned and gave us all a bow before seting off into the water, flippers and snorkels in hand. How they'd missed a three tonner, 2 x LWB & 2 x SWB Landrovers pulling up we never worked out.
ps Echo, why have you put "voluntary" in inverted commas, do you know of anyone who did it "involuntarily?"
One slightly amusing story from my own stock. One August Sunday as team Kilo is departing Arrochar after a glorious weekend in the hills someone spots some sort of commotion in the water whilst driving along the shores of Loch Long. Transport all stops for a better look, turns out to be some sort of small whale in the loch. However, of more interest was the two female scuba divers changing to go into the water. They were behind some bushes, but from where the team had stopped on a higher road we had a grandstand view of them stripping off before slipping into their wetsuits (and the carpets most definitely matched the curtains, in both instances !). The entire team kept quiet until the dressing was complete whereupon a very appreciative chorus of whistles and applause rang out. No shrinking violets these two, they turned and gave us all a bow before seting off into the water, flippers and snorkels in hand. How they'd missed a three tonner, 2 x LWB & 2 x SWB Landrovers pulling up we never worked out.
ps Echo, why have you put "voluntary" in inverted commas, do you know of anyone who did it "involuntarily?"
Nixor ut Ledo
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: In a Beaut of a State
Posts: 499
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Perhaps the lack of tales is because most of it is clouded in an alcoholic haze!
On the 1968 Winter Course I was presented with my tankard from the Sharjah team. "That's nice." I said and was then persuaded to fill it with a spirit of my choice. Brimming with vodka the tankard was returned to me whence I commenced to sip it gently thinking that it was going to last me the entire duration of the course.
"On the table. Down in one", was the loud chorus after my third sip. With over a hundred MR blokes I had no option. After glugging about 3/4 of the tankard they decided that was enough and passed the tankard round.
About 5 minutes later, feeling somewhat woozy, I made my way outside the Aviemore Centre to the car park, found the landrover that we had come in, dropped the tailgate and parked my mouth over the gap so that the puke wouldn't spoil the inside.
I can remember comments from arriving members of the public along the lines of "Bloody mountain rescue again - evil bastards".
My mate tried to find me sometime later concerned for my safety. I wasn't discovered until chucking out time. I was then reunited with my duvet jacket. They reckoned that it was only the alchohol in me that saved me from hypothermia on one of the coldest nights in Scotland for years.
Haven't liked vodka since
On the 1968 Winter Course I was presented with my tankard from the Sharjah team. "That's nice." I said and was then persuaded to fill it with a spirit of my choice. Brimming with vodka the tankard was returned to me whence I commenced to sip it gently thinking that it was going to last me the entire duration of the course.
"On the table. Down in one", was the loud chorus after my third sip. With over a hundred MR blokes I had no option. After glugging about 3/4 of the tankard they decided that was enough and passed the tankard round.
About 5 minutes later, feeling somewhat woozy, I made my way outside the Aviemore Centre to the car park, found the landrover that we had come in, dropped the tailgate and parked my mouth over the gap so that the puke wouldn't spoil the inside.
I can remember comments from arriving members of the public along the lines of "Bloody mountain rescue again - evil bastards".
My mate tried to find me sometime later concerned for my safety. I wasn't discovered until chucking out time. I was then reunited with my duvet jacket. They reckoned that it was only the alchohol in me that saved me from hypothermia on one of the coldest nights in Scotland for years.
Haven't liked vodka since
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Somewhere over the rainbow.
Age: 80
Posts: 621
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
la calda,
Sorry about that.......no sinister intent. " " removed. Just wanted to emphasise what a lot of guys give up for no personal gain apart from being out in the wide open spaces.
E5.
Sorry about that.......no sinister intent. " " removed. Just wanted to emphasise what a lot of guys give up for no personal gain apart from being out in the wide open spaces.
E5.
I was in the NEAF MRT in mid 1970s, based at Troodos. In the lounge in our HQ we had carabiners attached to the front of the bar, so that we could clip ourselves on and lean back whilst quaffing our Keo and Charlie.
One exercise involved a detachment to Turkey for high(er) altitude training. One of our number who was selected to go, had recently been issued with new boots and was concerned that they might not be well enough broken-in. A week or so fter he had left we received a postcard which read "Boots okay, feet f@cked".
"Boots okay?" became a standard phrase at Troodos thereafter.
We spent most of our time rescuing skiiers who had got lost or injured and I well remember one trip to recover a Swedish UN soldier, who had ski'd at high speed into a tree and had done serious mischief to his wedding tackle...nasty.
When NEAF MRT was disbanded, the kit was put up for public auction but team members were not eligible to bid, so it all went to locals. At Troodos we kept up a volunteer group after disbandment and paid for our own gear.
One exercise involved a detachment to Turkey for high(er) altitude training. One of our number who was selected to go, had recently been issued with new boots and was concerned that they might not be well enough broken-in. A week or so fter he had left we received a postcard which read "Boots okay, feet f@cked".
"Boots okay?" became a standard phrase at Troodos thereafter.
We spent most of our time rescuing skiiers who had got lost or injured and I well remember one trip to recover a Swedish UN soldier, who had ski'd at high speed into a tree and had done serious mischief to his wedding tackle...nasty.
When NEAF MRT was disbanded, the kit was put up for public auction but team members were not eligible to bid, so it all went to locals. At Troodos we kept up a volunteer group after disbandment and paid for our own gear.
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
wub, thanks for joining in. Mid seventies means we could have crossed, were you ever in Jock Land at that time?
Trusting this is a semi private forum though moderators may take exception to this anecdote (family may ID the incident if reading). If you do, remove by all means but hope it can stay.
Most haunting incident I attended was a fatality in Arran. Civi hillwalker had fallen a large distance on Goat Fell. Team were called out to assist mid day on day 1 and found him on a sweep of the glen about 24 hours later. No surpise in finding a fatality, there had been plenty before and plenty more to come. Post mortem showed considerable injuries. What troubled me most, for a long time afterwards, was that there were clear signs he's lived for a time after the fall (blood stained hanky that he'd tried to clean himself with). Didn't really worry me at the time, but several months later started to have bad thoughts about the poor guy stretched out on the hill knowing the time had come. I found out his name and background from the press report when we got back to ISK.
On a lighter note, local plods were so happy we'd found him and cleared up the incident that they paid for all the drink that night. A verrrrry good night was had in the Lamlash Hotel, made even better by the fact that the landlord at the time was ex MR.
Trusting this is a semi private forum though moderators may take exception to this anecdote (family may ID the incident if reading). If you do, remove by all means but hope it can stay.
Most haunting incident I attended was a fatality in Arran. Civi hillwalker had fallen a large distance on Goat Fell. Team were called out to assist mid day on day 1 and found him on a sweep of the glen about 24 hours later. No surpise in finding a fatality, there had been plenty before and plenty more to come. Post mortem showed considerable injuries. What troubled me most, for a long time afterwards, was that there were clear signs he's lived for a time after the fall (blood stained hanky that he'd tried to clean himself with). Didn't really worry me at the time, but several months later started to have bad thoughts about the poor guy stretched out on the hill knowing the time had come. I found out his name and background from the press report when we got back to ISK.
On a lighter note, local plods were so happy we'd found him and cleared up the incident that they paid for all the drink that night. A verrrrry good night was had in the Lamlash Hotel, made even better by the fact that the landlord at the time was ex MR.
Alba Gu Brath
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: Merseyside
Age: 55
Posts: 738
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Another reason you could be lacking in contributions is the unerring modesty of most MRT guys. Don't laugh, stick with me on this one. My short contribution to MRT was at St Athan. Fantastic time had down there with some varied countryside for exploring, both horizontal and vertical. Everyone on the team was first class, although the consumtion of alcohol would have equalled the GDP of a modest country! However, trying to get them to engage in the old "pull up a sandbag and tell us a story" game was never easy, unless they felt there was a serious learning opportunity to be had. Most of the guys had been early on-scene at Lockerbie but very rarely mentioned it.
Same when I was at Kinloss. Some of the guys on the team there had been out on some pretty horrific calls but would very rarely share any stories.
My memories of MRT involve copious quantities of alcohol, not always for numbing the senses, and trying to keep a calm head when called out on the Brecon Beacons in January to recover walkers who believed jeans and trainers constituted suitable survival clothing!
Same when I was at Kinloss. Some of the guys on the team there had been out on some pretty horrific calls but would very rarely share any stories.
My memories of MRT involve copious quantities of alcohol, not always for numbing the senses, and trying to keep a calm head when called out on the Brecon Beacons in January to recover walkers who believed jeans and trainers constituted suitable survival clothing!
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Spot on Big Tudor.
The team had the quite deserved reputation for having a really good time. Trouble for many was it had to be earned, the hard way. It was amazing how the loud mouths who turned up to sample the team hardly ever lasted the initial three weekend try out. Mind you, those three weekends were deliberately hellish, specifically to test committment. Conversely the quietly confident with the proper motivation sailed through (albeit with a few blisters, aches & pains) and became very valuable members of the team.
Reference bad call outs, it was tough enough when it was a civilian unknown to you, but when it was aircrew that was worse. Kinloss were team on the scene when the 8 Sqn Shack came down on Harris in \'92
The team had the quite deserved reputation for having a really good time. Trouble for many was it had to be earned, the hard way. It was amazing how the loud mouths who turned up to sample the team hardly ever lasted the initial three weekend try out. Mind you, those three weekends were deliberately hellish, specifically to test committment. Conversely the quietly confident with the proper motivation sailed through (albeit with a few blisters, aches & pains) and became very valuable members of the team.
Reference bad call outs, it was tough enough when it was a civilian unknown to you, but when it was aircrew that was worse. Kinloss were team on the scene when the 8 Sqn Shack came down on Harris in \'92
Alba Gu Brath
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: Merseyside
Age: 55
Posts: 738
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
As I recall (memory fades with age and alcohol) Kinloss seemed to get some of the harsher call-outs. They were also called upon following the Chinook crash off Sumburgh in '86. I think I am also right in saying that the Kinloss team carried out the most recoveries of military crew of all the RAF MRTs', logically really given their location. This was recalled to me some years ago so may be long out of date.
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Big Tudor
Don't know about the stats for downed aircrew but always struck me as a little funny seeing as how Leuchars had access to almost the same serious terrain as Kinloss. Plus, a winter storm's a winter storm whether you're in the lakes, the brecons or the highlands. I don't know if it was ever official, but Kinloss always had an air of being the "senior" team, Leuchars No 2 by virtue of also being in Scotland, Valley and Saints next with Leeming & Stafford trailing in behind them. Certainly on the joint ex's with the English teams that seemed to be the case.
Story time :-
On weekend ex's one of the troops was always detailed as cook. It was taken in rotation and involved getting up early enought to get breakfast going. Once the parties were away the next duty was dinner some ten hours away. In between time there was the radio to monitor but it could be a long boring day depending where you were.
Once, the team were at their usual Skye base, Glen Brittle. Mostly Skye can be indifferent for weather, frequently howling with wind and rain but just occasionally the sun splits the skies and the day never seems to end. It was just one such day that this particular troop drew cook duty. For a keen rock climber the sight of acres of bone dry black gabbro under the azure sky was painful in the extreme. After breakfast cleanup he almost contemplated a little solo exped up onto the ridge, trusting there'd be no radio call up ("nothing serious could happen on a day like this," went the reasoning) but sense prevailed and he resigned himself to a day's sunbathing and watching the tourists go by.
Around lunchtime, as he dozed in the sun, an extremely Germanic "Hallo" broke the silence. Squinting from whence it came the troop saw this absolute vision of Scandinavian beauty strolling towards him. At the time it was just when ABBA were storming the charts. Readers of a certain vintage will recall fantasies of the blonde one (female!) and that is just what presented itself to this troop. Chatting ensued and the blonde one's breathing grew more heavy with each new testosterone laden story. The troop laid it on thick, the sight of the LWB with big red cross and stretcher strapped to the roof was the clincher and, to cut a long story short, they were soon racked out in the barn for a long, slow, warm afternoon of horizontal gymnastics following which, apparently, she left from whence she came. The troop never relayed the facts to the rest of the team, after all, who the hell would have believed him?!!
The fallout?
Sunday he was so shagged he struggled to get up a mere V. Diff when the previous weekend he'd led an impressive VS on the Ben. Had to claim he'd caught a summer cold sleeping in the barn.
On the subject of team cooking, tradition was that dissatisfaction with the evening meal earned a swim in the nearest water, "swim the cook," being the cry. The worst offence? One particularly inept cook had never even boiled spuds before, and proceeded to try to mash them without draining off the water!
Don't know about the stats for downed aircrew but always struck me as a little funny seeing as how Leuchars had access to almost the same serious terrain as Kinloss. Plus, a winter storm's a winter storm whether you're in the lakes, the brecons or the highlands. I don't know if it was ever official, but Kinloss always had an air of being the "senior" team, Leuchars No 2 by virtue of also being in Scotland, Valley and Saints next with Leeming & Stafford trailing in behind them. Certainly on the joint ex's with the English teams that seemed to be the case.
Story time :-
On weekend ex's one of the troops was always detailed as cook. It was taken in rotation and involved getting up early enought to get breakfast going. Once the parties were away the next duty was dinner some ten hours away. In between time there was the radio to monitor but it could be a long boring day depending where you were.
Once, the team were at their usual Skye base, Glen Brittle. Mostly Skye can be indifferent for weather, frequently howling with wind and rain but just occasionally the sun splits the skies and the day never seems to end. It was just one such day that this particular troop drew cook duty. For a keen rock climber the sight of acres of bone dry black gabbro under the azure sky was painful in the extreme. After breakfast cleanup he almost contemplated a little solo exped up onto the ridge, trusting there'd be no radio call up ("nothing serious could happen on a day like this," went the reasoning) but sense prevailed and he resigned himself to a day's sunbathing and watching the tourists go by.
Around lunchtime, as he dozed in the sun, an extremely Germanic "Hallo" broke the silence. Squinting from whence it came the troop saw this absolute vision of Scandinavian beauty strolling towards him. At the time it was just when ABBA were storming the charts. Readers of a certain vintage will recall fantasies of the blonde one (female!) and that is just what presented itself to this troop. Chatting ensued and the blonde one's breathing grew more heavy with each new testosterone laden story. The troop laid it on thick, the sight of the LWB with big red cross and stretcher strapped to the roof was the clincher and, to cut a long story short, they were soon racked out in the barn for a long, slow, warm afternoon of horizontal gymnastics following which, apparently, she left from whence she came. The troop never relayed the facts to the rest of the team, after all, who the hell would have believed him?!!
The fallout?
Sunday he was so shagged he struggled to get up a mere V. Diff when the previous weekend he'd led an impressive VS on the Ben. Had to claim he'd caught a summer cold sleeping in the barn.
On the subject of team cooking, tradition was that dissatisfaction with the evening meal earned a swim in the nearest water, "swim the cook," being the cry. The worst offence? One particularly inept cook had never even boiled spuds before, and proceeded to try to mash them without draining off the water!
Nixor ut Ledo
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: In a Beaut of a State
Posts: 499
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Favourite evening meal was to open a couple of 10 man compo boxes and put everything edible (irish stew, boiled sweets, rich fruit pudding, cheese etc) into a big pot and throw in a tin of curry powder.
Luvverly stuff. And it gave a certain amount of rocket assistance on the hill the following day
Luvverly stuff. And it gave a certain amount of rocket assistance on the hill the following day
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Allan,
nothing nearly as uncivilised in my time.
The troops got very sniffy if there wasn't a soup course before the main meal, and if there wasn't a minimum of at least two veg portions the cook had little chance of staying dry.
We were lucky as one of the troops was in the catering section, so all sorts of goodies found their way onto the wagon. Hell, I even attempted pepperd steaks once when it was my turn, not a great success but they fried up nicely anyway.
The main consideration was that it had to be tasty, filling and quick. The pub generally beckoned and that was the main evening's entertainment.
nothing nearly as uncivilised in my time.
The troops got very sniffy if there wasn't a soup course before the main meal, and if there wasn't a minimum of at least two veg portions the cook had little chance of staying dry.
We were lucky as one of the troops was in the catering section, so all sorts of goodies found their way onto the wagon. Hell, I even attempted pepperd steaks once when it was my turn, not a great success but they fried up nicely anyway.
The main consideration was that it had to be tasty, filling and quick. The pub generally beckoned and that was the main evening's entertainment.
Alba Gu Brath
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: Merseyside
Age: 55
Posts: 738
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Must confess to following allans soup idea on numerous occassions when cookhouse duty fell on my slender shoulders. However, we also had a cook amongst the team at Saints who was masterful in the art of conjuring up gourmet cuisine from apparently nothing. It was not unheard of for the team to sit down to a full Sunday dinner of roast beef, yorkshire puds, veg and gravy prior to returning to base after a happy weekend in the hills. However, sitting sideways in the back of a Landrover 110 had some strange effects on the digestion system and there was often more than 1 green looking rescuer falling out the back at camp.
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Though readers may find it hard to believe now, in the early seventies the necropolis of Aberdeen, eighty miles east across moor and mountain, was a major draw for troops from ISK. A football team that regularly topped the then Scottish First Division, lots of pubs, a dancehall and plenty of fresh fanny to chase was an irresistible draw.
Getting there, however, was more of a problem. Few troops had cars so it was bus or thumb to Forres, then a two hour train journey, pricey, complicated and often just too much to contemplate after a week’s work, especially if the previous few weekends had been hard ones on the hill.
So, imagine the excitement one week when one of the troops was offered the use of a mate’s Ford Escort whilst the latter was away on detachment. Said troop and two others plotted their escape. Signing up for the weekend on Monday they separately called off during the week, pleading having to work the weekend. The Team boss was no fool and had an inkling of what was in the offing. However, as all three were stalwart troops he was prepared to let it go, this time!
All went well and Saturday afternoon saw the three ensconced behind one of the goals at Pittodrie, the AFC ground.
Fast forward to Monday morning. The local rag is the Aberdeen Press & Journal; know colloquially as the “Braemar Beano.” At some point on Saturday afternoon a spectacular goal had been scored, so spectacular that it warranted a full 8 x 6 photo on the back page of the “beano.” And, yes, you’ve guessed, as clear as day, behind the floundering goalie and triumphant striker, sat our three heroes. Even if their faces hadn’t been so easily recognisable, they were three of the biggest and hairiest buggers on the team at the time. Mid winter in Aberdeen’s cold, of course, and the final clincher was the fact that all three were resplendent in their regulation issue fleeces and duvet jackets. One of them even had on his Dachstein Mitts and balaclava (a sartorial master stroke that apparently didn't affect his pulling chances later in the evening. They like them tough, these Aberdeen gals!)
Supping his Monday morning brew, the team boss grabbed a quick read of the paper before settling down to the day’s work. It’s rumoured the malevolent grin that spread over his face upon seeing the back page was a sight to behold. Quietly all three were called in one by one for a “quick chat, nothing important”. Upon entering the boss’s office the first thing they saw was the paper spread out on his desk. What could they say? What could he say? To the boss’s credit he left it at that. And guess what? It was a long time before any troop tried to skive off to the bright lights of Aberdeen, borrowed Ford Escort or not!!
Getting there, however, was more of a problem. Few troops had cars so it was bus or thumb to Forres, then a two hour train journey, pricey, complicated and often just too much to contemplate after a week’s work, especially if the previous few weekends had been hard ones on the hill.
So, imagine the excitement one week when one of the troops was offered the use of a mate’s Ford Escort whilst the latter was away on detachment. Said troop and two others plotted their escape. Signing up for the weekend on Monday they separately called off during the week, pleading having to work the weekend. The Team boss was no fool and had an inkling of what was in the offing. However, as all three were stalwart troops he was prepared to let it go, this time!
All went well and Saturday afternoon saw the three ensconced behind one of the goals at Pittodrie, the AFC ground.
Fast forward to Monday morning. The local rag is the Aberdeen Press & Journal; know colloquially as the “Braemar Beano.” At some point on Saturday afternoon a spectacular goal had been scored, so spectacular that it warranted a full 8 x 6 photo on the back page of the “beano.” And, yes, you’ve guessed, as clear as day, behind the floundering goalie and triumphant striker, sat our three heroes. Even if their faces hadn’t been so easily recognisable, they were three of the biggest and hairiest buggers on the team at the time. Mid winter in Aberdeen’s cold, of course, and the final clincher was the fact that all three were resplendent in their regulation issue fleeces and duvet jackets. One of them even had on his Dachstein Mitts and balaclava (a sartorial master stroke that apparently didn't affect his pulling chances later in the evening. They like them tough, these Aberdeen gals!)
Supping his Monday morning brew, the team boss grabbed a quick read of the paper before settling down to the day’s work. It’s rumoured the malevolent grin that spread over his face upon seeing the back page was a sight to behold. Quietly all three were called in one by one for a “quick chat, nothing important”. Upon entering the boss’s office the first thing they saw was the paper spread out on his desk. What could they say? What could he say? To the boss’s credit he left it at that. And guess what? It was a long time before any troop tried to skive off to the bright lights of Aberdeen, borrowed Ford Escort or not!!
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Back to the top for this topic but only to post the URL for the following very excellent site.
Since nobody else seems willing, or able, to take up the baton and let us have some posts I'm not going to bore the world with my own war stories.
Since it seems there aren't going to be any posts to give us an insight into the MR Service I'd recommend the photos from Kinloss in the 70s on the site, especially the B/W ones. I knew lots of the troops featured and they're very evocative of those halcyon days.
http://www.rafmountainrescue.com/photopost/index.php:
Since nobody else seems willing, or able, to take up the baton and let us have some posts I'm not going to bore the world with my own war stories.
Since it seems there aren't going to be any posts to give us an insight into the MR Service I'd recommend the photos from Kinloss in the 70s on the site, especially the B/W ones. I knew lots of the troops featured and they're very evocative of those halcyon days.
http://www.rafmountainrescue.com/photopost/index.php:
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Location: 'twixt the Dee 'n' the Don
Posts: 18
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Hi Al.
Thanks for that. Where are you in the photos? PM me.
There's at least one with me also.
Wife & kids wouldn't believe it was me till I went into the garage and produced the very same belt, krab, rucksack & helmet I had on in the photo.
Interestingly, the belt was never used after my time in MR so still is adjusted to the waist I had almost 30 years age. Of course it's now at least six inches too short. It fitted my 14 year old daughter fine, not me.
Rgds,
LC.
Thanks for that. Where are you in the photos? PM me.
There's at least one with me also.
Wife & kids wouldn't believe it was me till I went into the garage and produced the very same belt, krab, rucksack & helmet I had on in the photo.
Interestingly, the belt was never used after my time in MR so still is adjusted to the waist I had almost 30 years age. Of course it's now at least six inches too short. It fitted my 14 year old daughter fine, not me.
Rgds,
LC.