Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
Hiya Danny,
As far as I knew there was no ASR/SAR when I was there. The nearest would have been the Navy chaps at Prestwick. About 30 minutes away, I suppose you would have to rely on your survival gear.
Smudge
As far as I knew there was no ASR/SAR when I was there. The nearest would have been the Navy chaps at Prestwick. About 30 minutes away, I suppose you would have to rely on your survival gear.
Smudge
Last edited by smujsmith; 21st May 2013 at 15:28.
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Visit to Middle Farm made this morning, vast amount of ciders including a godd 15-20 Sussex ones in bottles. The guy there had not heard of Chalk Farm Cider I'm afraid.
(Did come away with a few to sample later
)
(Did come away with a few to sample later
)
Danny,
Runway is 29/11, that's the 29 approach end. I remember your Bomb Scow tale nothing so upmarket for us 60/70s servicemen. Keep your story going Danny, it's compulsive reading.
Smudge
Runway is 29/11, that's the 29 approach end. I remember your Bomb Scow tale
nothing so upmarket for us 60/70s servicemen. Keep your story going Danny, it's compulsive reading.Smudge
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Smudge,
Thanks for the picture. I was wondering if the road middle right, which comes down and sweeps round the end of the runway actualy carried straight on and crosses the light patch of ground before crossing the taxiway was how the road was at that time. There is definitely a line on your photo to support this view. It's 30 years ago now and we were only there a week and - ahem - had other things on our minds at the time.
Perhaps my memory is fading a bit.
What I do remember was that we came across the "Main terminal" for the flights to Glasgow. It was a portacabin with a Loganair aircraft parked outside. The "security" was a plastic chain-link fence that I could have just stepped over! While we were there the pilot and passengers came out of this portacabin and got on board. The one and only ground staff lady then came out, locked the portacabin door, and the pilot said, "Bye Morag. See you tomorrow." then opened the front door of the aircraft, climbed in, started the engine and left! Flying as it used to be!
Thanks for the picture. I was wondering if the road middle right, which comes down and sweeps round the end of the runway actualy carried straight on and crosses the light patch of ground before crossing the taxiway was how the road was at that time. There is definitely a line on your photo to support this view. It's 30 years ago now and we were only there a week and - ahem - had other things on our minds at the time.
Perhaps my memory is fading a bit.What I do remember was that we came across the "Main terminal" for the flights to Glasgow. It was a portacabin with a Loganair aircraft parked outside. The "security" was a plastic chain-link fence that I could have just stepped over! While we were there the pilot and passengers came out of this portacabin and got on board. The one and only ground staff lady then came out, locked the portacabin door, and the pilot said, "Bye Morag. See you tomorrow." then opened the front door of the aircraft, climbed in, started the engine and left! Flying as it used to be!
Offshore,
The "Logiebaird" terminal/pan, is bottom right of the runway. 30 years ago would put you right at the time we had the runway resurfaced (the start of my tour there). Up to that point VASS had handled the Loganair Trislander on the VASS Pan (up to the left of the Gaydon Hangar on the photo). I believe that during the resurfacing Loganair were allowed a direct access gate to their terminal from the road. That would fit with your memory of driving on to the airfield. You were lucky with your luxury travel with Loganair, I well remember seeing the Trislander off one afternoon. It was so full one of the pax sat in the co pilots seat, with his suitcase on his lap. We had just got back to our crewroom when the squawk box from ATC informed us that Loganair was returning to the pan. When he got in the pilot asked if we could look after the passengers suitcase for the next flight as, he couldn't pull the stick back far enough to take off with it on his knee. As he already had 2 people on board more than he had seat belts for, we were happy to lighten his load. Happy Days, we sent his suitcase on the next mornings aircraft, it was empty
(the aircraft, not the suitcase).
Anyway, this must now be guilty of serious "driftus threadus" and well worthy of a wrist slap. I'm glad you had a good time on the Mull, I certainly did. Mods, Thanks for your patience.
Smudge
The "Logiebaird" terminal/pan, is bottom right of the runway. 30 years ago would put you right at the time we had the runway resurfaced (the start of my tour there). Up to that point VASS had handled the Loganair Trislander on the VASS Pan (up to the left of the Gaydon Hangar on the photo). I believe that during the resurfacing Loganair were allowed a direct access gate to their terminal from the road. That would fit with your memory of driving on to the airfield. You were lucky with your luxury travel with Loganair, I well remember seeing the Trislander off one afternoon. It was so full one of the pax sat in the co pilots seat, with his suitcase on his lap. We had just got back to our crewroom when the squawk box from ATC informed us that Loganair was returning to the pan. When he got in the pilot asked if we could look after the passengers suitcase for the next flight as, he couldn't pull the stick back far enough to take off with it on his knee. As he already had 2 people on board more than he had seat belts for, we were happy to lighten his load. Happy Days, we sent his suitcase on the next mornings aircraft, it was empty
(the aircraft, not the suitcase).Anyway, this must now be guilty of serious "driftus threadus" and well worthy of a wrist slap. I'm glad you had a good time on the Mull, I certainly did. Mods, Thanks for your patience.
Smudge
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Our Thread.
Smudge,
The Moderators are absolutely right to let us old-timers natter on like this. It is exactly the purpose of a Forum - it is a perfect example of the "Virtual Crewroom" I like to imagine in cyberspace.
It is this "loose rein" which has made this the Prince of Threads in "Military Aircrew", ever since Cliff Nemo (RIP) started it years ago. My humble story (as the last RAF Pilot who Gained his Wings in WW2 - at least the last in captivity on this Thread) acts as a sort of a wick in a candle, on which the comments, suggestions, queries and (if needful) corrections coagulate like wax. Or at least I hope it does.
What it must not be is a monolgue. I submit this analysis to the Moderators, who will correct me if I am wrong.
Thanks for the compliment ! (More Post soon),
Danny.
The Moderators are absolutely right to let us old-timers natter on like this. It is exactly the purpose of a Forum - it is a perfect example of the "Virtual Crewroom" I like to imagine in cyberspace.
It is this "loose rein" which has made this the Prince of Threads in "Military Aircrew", ever since Cliff Nemo (RIP) started it years ago. My humble story (as the last RAF Pilot who Gained his Wings in WW2 - at least the last in captivity on this Thread) acts as a sort of a wick in a candle, on which the comments, suggestions, queries and (if needful) corrections coagulate like wax. Or at least I hope it does.
What it must not be is a monolgue. I submit this analysis to the Moderators, who will correct me if I am wrong.
Thanks for the compliment ! (More Post soon),
Danny.
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Danny takes the Rough with the Smooth.
A lot of Funny Little things happened after I got back from Cottesmore, and then two Funny Big Things. I am not sure of the order of events, so will give you the lot in one or two bunches.
A letter came in from the Stockton Corporation Transport Manager. Their conductor on our last Sunday's Seaton Snook "special" had reported a broken window on the top deck during the journey back. This was presumably the result of some (ferocious !) horseplay. Who was going to pay for the damage ? Tongue-in-cheek (for I knew that in fact there was no conductor on these runs), I retorted that it was surely the task of the "conductor" to maintain order on his bus, and to secure the name & address of the perpetrator.
This had him on the back foot straight away, as he had to acknowledge that there was no "conductor" at all, as stated in his first letter. Still he persisted, and I pointed out that the not inconsiderable sum the RAF was paying for hire must include an element for insurance. What about that ? This elicited the astounding information that the bus was not insured against passenger damage (what a way to run a Bus service !) I jumped on that. What might be the extent of a passenger's liability in such cases ? Supposing a bus were to be written-off in these circumstaces, was it remotely reasonable to expect a private individual to pay up ? Why wasn't it insured in the first place ? Whose fault was that ?
Now we had him on the ropes; he became a humble supplicant, and for the first time the sum at issue was mentioned (£18, or thereabouts). At the time our Tea Swindle had about £1,000 in the bank; this trifling sum would not hurt us. Accordingly I wrote back a letter positively oozing with magnanimity: in view of the good relations which had always existed between us, and purely as an act of grace, and admitting no responsibility, and he must understand that this not to be taken as establishing any precedent, here was a cheque for the £18. So honour was satisfied, and we called it a draw.
Two subsidiary questions will have sprung to mind. Why did I not investigate the circumstances myself ? - because I know omerta when I see it coming. And why did I keep it "in house", and not turn it over to the Station ? Are you serious ? - I' d be wrapped up in Boards of Inquiry and Summaries of Evidence from then to Kingdom Come ! (Now you know what Adjutants have to do for a living).
The next little one was really not funny at all. We had a W.R.Aux.A.F. Drum & Pipe Band; TAAFA bought the instruments, but the Drum-Major's mace was a wondrous thing, presented to us a few years before by the Lord Lieutenant. The hollow silver cap was suitably engraved with the fact, and richly decorated: fine silver chain criss-crossed down the shaft, and I think there was a silver ferrule. It was polished to perfection.
One ass left it on the ground as the kit was being loaded, another reversed the truck over it. It was a sorry sight. Of course the wheel had to have run over the cap (and not the much cheaper shaft) and squashed it. We could hardly ask the Lord Lieutenant for another one, and TAAFA would have raised a stink, so we had to send it to Boosey & Hawkes (musical instruments suppliers, who have skill in brass and silver bashing) to straighten it out; it wasn't cheap, the Mace was never the same again and the Tea Swindle took the hit.
Now for a Big One, and some good news for a change. We were now fully restored in TAAFA's good books, but even so we were surprised and gratified to learn that we should have a Unit Crest and Motto, and that they would pay the bill. Why this should be, I know not, but presumably it was on the grounds that everyone else had one, so we should have one, too.
Accordingly, I was to submit draft designs and mottoes to the Chester Herald (there are four of them, I believe, but this was our man, and he ain't cheap) for approval. I then made the gross error of proudly announcing the honour to our troops, and asking for suggestions. You never saw such a load of rubbish as came in: daggers dripping blood, knight's helmets, lions and leopards every which way, eagles drawn with varying degrees of skill, in fact everything that a Hollywood producer could think of to put on the shield of a Ye Olde Medieval Knight in a bad B-movie.
I quickly realised my mistake, and that whatever choice I made (for Dave wisely washed his hands of the affair), I should make one friend and 119 enemies. I therefore cut the Gordian knot, declared the competition null and void, and decided to do the job myself.
The White Rose of York would have been nice, but RAF Thornaby had bagged that already. I hit on the idea of a pointer, rigid, paw lifted and tail level, with the motto "I guide the hunter". I was nervous about the idea of a natural looking dog, but the Herald was all for it. It seems that the dog has an honoured place in heraldry as an emblem of fidelity and loyalty to the Sovereign. The Herald's draughtsman did a good job, a tan and white hound gazing fixedly to the left in the act of pointing, as I'd suggested.
TAAFA liked it, everbody liked it, in particular everybody liked the motto (about time we had one in English). It perfectly expressed the purpose of the Unit, and it was particularly apt as the Hunter (aircraft) was just then coming into service.
I'm a bit hazy about the details, but the design went back through TAAFA to the Boss Herald in London, he (theoretically) had to refer it to the Sovereign for final approval; she signed the Top Copy (or was it just facsimile ?); it came back to TAAFA and they put it in a nice frame; we held a Station Parade; the Lord Lieutenant turned up in full fig; he presented it to me (why not Dave Brown ? - don't know); the "Evening Gazette" took a nice photo of the presentation; I must have it somewhere or other.
That's enough for the moment, chaps,
Danny42C
A letter came in from the Stockton Corporation Transport Manager. Their conductor on our last Sunday's Seaton Snook "special" had reported a broken window on the top deck during the journey back. This was presumably the result of some (ferocious !) horseplay. Who was going to pay for the damage ? Tongue-in-cheek (for I knew that in fact there was no conductor on these runs), I retorted that it was surely the task of the "conductor" to maintain order on his bus, and to secure the name & address of the perpetrator.
This had him on the back foot straight away, as he had to acknowledge that there was no "conductor" at all, as stated in his first letter. Still he persisted, and I pointed out that the not inconsiderable sum the RAF was paying for hire must include an element for insurance. What about that ? This elicited the astounding information that the bus was not insured against passenger damage (what a way to run a Bus service !) I jumped on that. What might be the extent of a passenger's liability in such cases ? Supposing a bus were to be written-off in these circumstaces, was it remotely reasonable to expect a private individual to pay up ? Why wasn't it insured in the first place ? Whose fault was that ?
Now we had him on the ropes; he became a humble supplicant, and for the first time the sum at issue was mentioned (£18, or thereabouts). At the time our Tea Swindle had about £1,000 in the bank; this trifling sum would not hurt us. Accordingly I wrote back a letter positively oozing with magnanimity: in view of the good relations which had always existed between us, and purely as an act of grace, and admitting no responsibility, and he must understand that this not to be taken as establishing any precedent, here was a cheque for the £18. So honour was satisfied, and we called it a draw.
Two subsidiary questions will have sprung to mind. Why did I not investigate the circumstances myself ? - because I know omerta when I see it coming. And why did I keep it "in house", and not turn it over to the Station ? Are you serious ? - I' d be wrapped up in Boards of Inquiry and Summaries of Evidence from then to Kingdom Come ! (Now you know what Adjutants have to do for a living).
The next little one was really not funny at all. We had a W.R.Aux.A.F. Drum & Pipe Band; TAAFA bought the instruments, but the Drum-Major's mace was a wondrous thing, presented to us a few years before by the Lord Lieutenant. The hollow silver cap was suitably engraved with the fact, and richly decorated: fine silver chain criss-crossed down the shaft, and I think there was a silver ferrule. It was polished to perfection.
One ass left it on the ground as the kit was being loaded, another reversed the truck over it. It was a sorry sight. Of course the wheel had to have run over the cap (and not the much cheaper shaft) and squashed it. We could hardly ask the Lord Lieutenant for another one, and TAAFA would have raised a stink, so we had to send it to Boosey & Hawkes (musical instruments suppliers, who have skill in brass and silver bashing) to straighten it out; it wasn't cheap, the Mace was never the same again and the Tea Swindle took the hit.
Now for a Big One, and some good news for a change. We were now fully restored in TAAFA's good books, but even so we were surprised and gratified to learn that we should have a Unit Crest and Motto, and that they would pay the bill. Why this should be, I know not, but presumably it was on the grounds that everyone else had one, so we should have one, too.
Accordingly, I was to submit draft designs and mottoes to the Chester Herald (there are four of them, I believe, but this was our man, and he ain't cheap) for approval. I then made the gross error of proudly announcing the honour to our troops, and asking for suggestions. You never saw such a load of rubbish as came in: daggers dripping blood, knight's helmets, lions and leopards every which way, eagles drawn with varying degrees of skill, in fact everything that a Hollywood producer could think of to put on the shield of a Ye Olde Medieval Knight in a bad B-movie.
I quickly realised my mistake, and that whatever choice I made (for Dave wisely washed his hands of the affair), I should make one friend and 119 enemies. I therefore cut the Gordian knot, declared the competition null and void, and decided to do the job myself.
The White Rose of York would have been nice, but RAF Thornaby had bagged that already. I hit on the idea of a pointer, rigid, paw lifted and tail level, with the motto "I guide the hunter". I was nervous about the idea of a natural looking dog, but the Herald was all for it. It seems that the dog has an honoured place in heraldry as an emblem of fidelity and loyalty to the Sovereign. The Herald's draughtsman did a good job, a tan and white hound gazing fixedly to the left in the act of pointing, as I'd suggested.
TAAFA liked it, everbody liked it, in particular everybody liked the motto (about time we had one in English). It perfectly expressed the purpose of the Unit, and it was particularly apt as the Hunter (aircraft) was just then coming into service.
I'm a bit hazy about the details, but the design went back through TAAFA to the Boss Herald in London, he (theoretically) had to refer it to the Sovereign for final approval; she signed the Top Copy (or was it just facsimile ?); it came back to TAAFA and they put it in a nice frame; we held a Station Parade; the Lord Lieutenant turned up in full fig; he presented it to me (why not Dave Brown ? - don't know); the "Evening Gazette" took a nice photo of the presentation; I must have it somewhere or other.
That's enough for the moment, chaps,
Danny42C
Danny, when you call it a tea swindle, was it a swindle or a Swindle? I only ask because £1000 seems a prodigious amount from such a mundane and unglamourous source. Perhaps it was not from the sale of cups of the stuff but profits from tea futures, brilliantly accumulated by outsmarting the market?
At any rate it was a handy pot to have for unpredictable expenses such as damaged buses and maces. Given the barrister like flooring of the wretched Bus Manager, I can't help wondering if he might not have got his own back had he known of the slight contretemps involving "a Stick with an 'orses 'ead 'andle, the finest that Woolworth's could sell", or words to that effect.
"Well surely", he would have asked unctuously, "you must have had it insured?"
At any rate it was a handy pot to have for unpredictable expenses such as damaged buses and maces. Given the barrister like flooring of the wretched Bus Manager, I can't help wondering if he might not have got his own back had he known of the slight contretemps involving "a Stick with an 'orses 'ead 'andle, the finest that Woolworth's could sell", or words to that effect.
"Well surely", he would have asked unctuously, "you must have had it insured?"
Danny
I remember, on my first posting to Colerne in 1971, we had a tea swindle. I can't remember that it ever did more than cover the cost of tea, coffee, milk and a few biscuits. Perhaps in later years the "rules " changed. Whatever, sounds like your Swindle was more enterprising than my experience. Blimey £1000
Smudge
I remember, on my first posting to Colerne in 1971, we had a tea swindle. I can't remember that it ever did more than cover the cost of tea, coffee, milk and a few biscuits. Perhaps in later years the "rules " changed. Whatever, sounds like your Swindle was more enterprising than my experience. Blimey £1000
Smudge
Last edited by smujsmith; 23rd May 2013 at 20:52.
Perhaps in later years the "rules " changed.
Whilst serving at one particular base, I was volunteered to be Oi/c station gliding club. This was supposed to involve simply keeping an eye on things with no requirement to be involved in the financial side....
Of course that's not the way it ended up - I had to check our books with some minor Blunty every month. We had to hit our target 'profit' within something like ±0.5%. Which we always did.During a session in the bar following my dining-out, said Blunty came up to me and told me how pleased he'd been with the performance of our club and wished that every other club ran its finances so well....
"You obviously don't know about the balance tank", I told him....
"What's that?"
"Every month when I tot up the figures and count the cash, I work out how we did relative to a number in the range you allow us. If we're over, the extra goes into a big, black tin in my office. If we're under, I raid the tin for the necessary amount".
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!"
"Well, it keeps your books straight, no-one makes anything out of it - so what's the problem? If the tin gets a bit heavy, we have a party and partly subsidise it; if it gets too light, we review the fees....."
It never did get light. Usually because anything left over from a BYOB party would be sold over the bar at later parties.
Blunties never really did fathom out the number of ways we aircrew could find to cope with inconvenient administrivial nonsense in a pragmatic manner!
But that was before computers.....
Last edited by BEagle; 24th May 2013 at 07:29.
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Montrose again
Here's a link to a youtube video of the opening of the Pilot Training Project at Montrose air station heritage centre. The first 10 mins are speeches, but then you see a few shots of what's there, including a link trainer.
Just thought you guys might be interested.
Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre - End of Pilot Training Project - YouTube
There's also an interesting piece in today's Dundee Courier newspaper -
Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre solves ghostly tale of true love - Angus / Local / News / The Courier
Just thought you guys might be interested.
Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre - End of Pilot Training Project - YouTube
There's also an interesting piece in today's Dundee Courier newspaper -
Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre solves ghostly tale of true love - Angus / Local / News / The Courier
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High Finance.
Chugalug and Smudge,
Our Tea Swindle was really a small Canteen. Run by unit volunteers in a Laing hut behind our HQ, it had been running for 2-3 years. We opened it during the training periods, which were 1900/2100 on Thursday nights and all day Saturdays and Sundays. Besides our own troops, a lot of the Regiment auxiliaries came over (but I think 608 had a place of their own).
You'll remember that one of the first things I did was to get a grip of the finances of this operation, which if properly run can be very profitable indeed, as we had no overheads. We did not make much on the cakes, buns and scones, and it is difficult now to remember what we would be paying for tea, milk and sugar in those days, but roughly 4/- worth of makings should have turned into £2 over the counter (at 2d a cup).
Of course we couldn't do cigarettes or alcohol, they were reserved to the NAAFI. They tolerated us as their trade was all in the evenings, when the Auxiliaries had all gone home.
In addition to this main source of income, there had been windfalls like the highly successful (and criminal) Christmas Card racket in '51 to start things off. TAAFA did not charge any fee for the Band's outside engagements, being content with its value as a recruiting tool (which itmost certainly was): the members got a small increment in pay as Bandswomen. But of course we expected (and got) a contribution for "expenses" (what expenses ?), and even after a suitable contribution to the RAFBF, the Tea Swindle (aka Unit Fund) got its fair share. One way and another it mounted up over the years, as we never really found anything much to spend it on.
Why wasn't the Mace insured ?.....Touché !.....Oh, dear...D.
BEagle,
They seemed to have refined the torture over the years. At the beginning, the Accountant Officers didn't want to know about these unofficial non-Public funds, on the basis that what they weren't involved in couldn't hurt them. Towards the end of '54, the A.M. sent out a posse of itinerant auditors. (I think certain Territorial Adjutants, who are almost completely autonomous, had been found with their fingers deep in the till), and they feared that the infection might have extended to the R.Aux.A.F.
Accordingly a very suspicious individual with a bulky briefcase appeared in my office one day, demanding an account of my stewardship. But our system (set up two years previously by F/O Tom Oliver of some bank or other) was absolutely copper-bottomed. A complete set of books and Annual Accounts was shoved under this auditor's nose to baffle him. We got a Bank Statement and did a Reconciliation.
As Tom took the weekend takings away every Sunday night to bank them on Monday, there was very little in the cash box. But of course there was also a small cash bag at the back of the safe, because there is always some surplus which can't be accounted for when all the dust has settled. Unlike your Inquisitor, ours said that that was evidence of our probity. Apparently, if the books are too perfect, they smell a rat !...D.
No computers ? Ah, happy days !
Danny.
Our Tea Swindle was really a small Canteen. Run by unit volunteers in a Laing hut behind our HQ, it had been running for 2-3 years. We opened it during the training periods, which were 1900/2100 on Thursday nights and all day Saturdays and Sundays. Besides our own troops, a lot of the Regiment auxiliaries came over (but I think 608 had a place of their own).
You'll remember that one of the first things I did was to get a grip of the finances of this operation, which if properly run can be very profitable indeed, as we had no overheads. We did not make much on the cakes, buns and scones, and it is difficult now to remember what we would be paying for tea, milk and sugar in those days, but roughly 4/- worth of makings should have turned into £2 over the counter (at 2d a cup).
Of course we couldn't do cigarettes or alcohol, they were reserved to the NAAFI. They tolerated us as their trade was all in the evenings, when the Auxiliaries had all gone home.
In addition to this main source of income, there had been windfalls like the highly successful (and criminal) Christmas Card racket in '51 to start things off. TAAFA did not charge any fee for the Band's outside engagements, being content with its value as a recruiting tool (which itmost certainly was): the members got a small increment in pay as Bandswomen. But of course we expected (and got) a contribution for "expenses" (what expenses ?), and even after a suitable contribution to the RAFBF, the Tea Swindle (aka Unit Fund) got its fair share. One way and another it mounted up over the years, as we never really found anything much to spend it on.
Why wasn't the Mace insured ?.....Touché !.....Oh, dear...D.
BEagle,
They seemed to have refined the torture over the years. At the beginning, the Accountant Officers didn't want to know about these unofficial non-Public funds, on the basis that what they weren't involved in couldn't hurt them. Towards the end of '54, the A.M. sent out a posse of itinerant auditors. (I think certain Territorial Adjutants, who are almost completely autonomous, had been found with their fingers deep in the till), and they feared that the infection might have extended to the R.Aux.A.F.
Accordingly a very suspicious individual with a bulky briefcase appeared in my office one day, demanding an account of my stewardship. But our system (set up two years previously by F/O Tom Oliver of some bank or other) was absolutely copper-bottomed. A complete set of books and Annual Accounts was shoved under this auditor's nose to baffle him. We got a Bank Statement and did a Reconciliation.
As Tom took the weekend takings away every Sunday night to bank them on Monday, there was very little in the cash box. But of course there was also a small cash bag at the back of the safe, because there is always some surplus which can't be accounted for when all the dust has settled. Unlike your Inquisitor, ours said that that was evidence of our probity. Apparently, if the books are too perfect, they smell a rat !...D.
No computers ? Ah, happy days !
Danny.
Money always grows when you deal in cash. I once worked in a bank as a teller and we had what was called a 'Teller's Deficiency Account. Any deficiencies when you cashed up at the end of the day's business was covered by this account.
I, or any of the other tellers, never had a problem. We were always £20-£30 up every day and this was in the late fifties. None of our customers complained; the money just materialised.
The TDA used to be part of the Xmas bonus.
I, or any of the other tellers, never had a problem. We were always £20-£30 up every day and this was in the late fifties. None of our customers complained; the money just materialised.
The TDA used to be part of the Xmas bonus.
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 25th May 2013 at 09:18.
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Danny has some Surprising News.
The next Funny Big Thing was a real stunner. This time Sgt Watt had a puzzled grin on his face as he brought in the mail one September morning. It seemed that we had another change to our Establishment. Not more bikes this time, but in our personnel. The Unit's C.O. post had been put up to Wing Commander (R.Aux.A.F. of course).
How and why had this happened ? Nobody (as far as I know) had ever suggested it, and there was no earthly reason for it. Had it happened at any other FCU ? Not to my knowledge. How ? My only guess was clerical error (could that be even remotely possible ?) But supposing that to be the case (and the fact that I do not recall any previous advice from P2 or TAAFA supported it), it is conceivable. It was a surprise (to say the least) to the Station Commander.
Clerical error or not, everybody went along with it, and Dave duly became W/Cdr Brown, DSO. Every cage on the Station was rattled. Dave was now senior to the other two Auxiliary C.O.s, and level with the Station Commander (for an Auxiliary W/Cdr in uniform is as good as any other). The FCU, once the Ugly Duckling of the Auxiliary family, had blossomed into a Swan.
Soon, tangible evidence appeared to prove that, even if it had been a mistake, they were sticking with it. We were allotted an Austin 16 Staff Car, all black and glossy - a real Group Captain's car (I think it came with the pennant in the glove compartment). Of course, all cars are in Station "pool" in theory, but in practice it worked fine. W/Cdr Daw had the car Mon/Fri (when Dave had no use for it): he (and I) had it on Sat/Sun, when Daw had his weekend.
During the week, I was content with the oil-junkie Minx. This I used once or twice on a weekday morning to go down to the "Bodega", a small restaurant under the Middlesbrough Exchange Building. There Dave would meet me for a coffee, while we mulled over the recent problems of the day.
It would be about this time that I thought I would Tidy Up a Loose End. When I got the Bond three years before, I'd only the car licence I'd had since '38, but no m/c licence, as I never had enough money to buy one. But the Bond is a motor cycle in Law. Strange but true. It is a "Non-reversible Tricycle", and is lumped in with motorbikes. So I'd been driving without a valid licence for three years. It was time to get legal. I applied for a Test, everything went fine (not surprisingly, as I'd got some 20,000 miles on it), the examiner (who had done a few on type) congratulated me on the Bond's performance, said it was the best one he'd ever met. Accordingly I now have a motorbike licence, and the Law doesn't even know if I can ride a bike !
Winter was now coming on, and my thoughts turned to the snows again. This time I would go alone, and with the RAF Winter Sports Association, in early January after a long Christmas break at home. They had chosen Ehrwald, a small Austrian ski resort just over the border from Garmish-Partenkirchen. There was no air travel option - the Combined Services Association fiasco three years before may have put them off it. It was train/boat/train, like it or lump it. On the SNCF down through Europe, I joined up with a F/Lt Witold Suida, one of the many Poles who had thrown in their post-war lot with the RAF rather than return to a Communist Poland. He proved to be useful in two ways: he was fluent in German and a very competent on skis.
The whole trip was a disappointment. Checking on Google now, I read of a resort 6,000 to 9,000 feet (presumably up to the top of the Zugspitz) with plenty of red and blue runs. But in those days it was a far more modest affair, I don't think it ran up more than 4-5,000 ft, at which level snow is unreliable. I remember it as a collection of nursery slopes, with hardly anything much more testing. I think they had only two or three drag lifts. The weather was atrocious - I think it actually rained on us one day.
I remember being very impressed by the quality of the devotional frescos covering nearly all the facades - we were housed in the Hotel Maria Regina, with a magnificent rendering of the Madonna and Child over the entrance. Inside we were warm, snug, comfortable and well fed, but that didn't compensate for the poor skiing. All in all, it was an eminently forgettable experience. But you can't win 'em all !
An amusing story next time.
Goodnight, all,
Danny42C
......and some have greatness thrust upn them......
How and why had this happened ? Nobody (as far as I know) had ever suggested it, and there was no earthly reason for it. Had it happened at any other FCU ? Not to my knowledge. How ? My only guess was clerical error (could that be even remotely possible ?) But supposing that to be the case (and the fact that I do not recall any previous advice from P2 or TAAFA supported it), it is conceivable. It was a surprise (to say the least) to the Station Commander.
Clerical error or not, everybody went along with it, and Dave duly became W/Cdr Brown, DSO. Every cage on the Station was rattled. Dave was now senior to the other two Auxiliary C.O.s, and level with the Station Commander (for an Auxiliary W/Cdr in uniform is as good as any other). The FCU, once the Ugly Duckling of the Auxiliary family, had blossomed into a Swan.
Soon, tangible evidence appeared to prove that, even if it had been a mistake, they were sticking with it. We were allotted an Austin 16 Staff Car, all black and glossy - a real Group Captain's car (I think it came with the pennant in the glove compartment). Of course, all cars are in Station "pool" in theory, but in practice it worked fine. W/Cdr Daw had the car Mon/Fri (when Dave had no use for it): he (and I) had it on Sat/Sun, when Daw had his weekend.
During the week, I was content with the oil-junkie Minx. This I used once or twice on a weekday morning to go down to the "Bodega", a small restaurant under the Middlesbrough Exchange Building. There Dave would meet me for a coffee, while we mulled over the recent problems of the day.
It would be about this time that I thought I would Tidy Up a Loose End. When I got the Bond three years before, I'd only the car licence I'd had since '38, but no m/c licence, as I never had enough money to buy one. But the Bond is a motor cycle in Law. Strange but true. It is a "Non-reversible Tricycle", and is lumped in with motorbikes. So I'd been driving without a valid licence for three years. It was time to get legal. I applied for a Test, everything went fine (not surprisingly, as I'd got some 20,000 miles on it), the examiner (who had done a few on type) congratulated me on the Bond's performance, said it was the best one he'd ever met. Accordingly I now have a motorbike licence, and the Law doesn't even know if I can ride a bike !
Winter was now coming on, and my thoughts turned to the snows again. This time I would go alone, and with the RAF Winter Sports Association, in early January after a long Christmas break at home. They had chosen Ehrwald, a small Austrian ski resort just over the border from Garmish-Partenkirchen. There was no air travel option - the Combined Services Association fiasco three years before may have put them off it. It was train/boat/train, like it or lump it. On the SNCF down through Europe, I joined up with a F/Lt Witold Suida, one of the many Poles who had thrown in their post-war lot with the RAF rather than return to a Communist Poland. He proved to be useful in two ways: he was fluent in German and a very competent on skis.
The whole trip was a disappointment. Checking on Google now, I read of a resort 6,000 to 9,000 feet (presumably up to the top of the Zugspitz) with plenty of red and blue runs. But in those days it was a far more modest affair, I don't think it ran up more than 4-5,000 ft, at which level snow is unreliable. I remember it as a collection of nursery slopes, with hardly anything much more testing. I think they had only two or three drag lifts. The weather was atrocious - I think it actually rained on us one day.
I remember being very impressed by the quality of the devotional frescos covering nearly all the facades - we were housed in the Hotel Maria Regina, with a magnificent rendering of the Madonna and Child over the entrance. Inside we were warm, snug, comfortable and well fed, but that didn't compensate for the poor skiing. All in all, it was an eminently forgettable experience. But you can't win 'em all !
An amusing story next time.
Goodnight, all,
Danny42C
......and some have greatness thrust upn them......
Last edited by Danny42C; 26th May 2013 at 00:43. Reason: Correct Error.
A very puzzling very big thing indeed Danny. Puzzling because you as Adj was not made aware of its imminence. puzzling because it was the post and not the man that was so elevated, even more puzzling that the man should be so elevated anyway. Obviously the RAuxAF was not the RAF, and different rules it would seem applied but puzzling nevertheless, as you say.
The RAF had its own puzzling aspects in the converse situation, at least to an outsider. The aircraft captain, ie the member of aircrew who commanded the others during the "period of operation", was never defined by rank. Hence he could be a SNCO in command of commissioned officers (in WW2), or of junior rank to the others if all were commissioned or SNCOs, or simply the least paid of all anyway.
I fell into the last bracket as a Flg Off, with Flt Lt and above (right up to Wg Cdr) as well as Master Aircrew, all of who earned more than me, as I was single and most of them married and hence in receipt of marriage allowance. I was wont to remind them of this from time to time, if only when it was time to buy a round.
The Wg Cdr crewmember was of course the Sqn Cdr, and though a Nav was the one exception to the "First Pilot is Captain" rule in Transport/Air Support Command, in that he could be aircraft Captain himself. He always waived that right, happy for someone else for a change to have to do all the organising re early morning calls, pickup times, briefings, etc.
The RAF had its own puzzling aspects in the converse situation, at least to an outsider. The aircraft captain, ie the member of aircrew who commanded the others during the "period of operation", was never defined by rank. Hence he could be a SNCO in command of commissioned officers (in WW2), or of junior rank to the others if all were commissioned or SNCOs, or simply the least paid of all anyway.
I fell into the last bracket as a Flg Off, with Flt Lt and above (right up to Wg Cdr) as well as Master Aircrew, all of who earned more than me, as I was single and most of them married and hence in receipt of marriage allowance. I was wont to remind them of this from time to time, if only when it was time to buy a round.
The Wg Cdr crewmember was of course the Sqn Cdr, and though a Nav was the one exception to the "First Pilot is Captain" rule in Transport/Air Support Command, in that he could be aircraft Captain himself. He always waived that right, happy for someone else for a change to have to do all the organising re early morning calls, pickup times, briefings, etc.
Last edited by Chugalug2; 27th May 2013 at 09:06.
There was one occasion in Bomber Command where a Flt Lt captain and a Sqn Ldr navigator were having a 'discussion' after landing.
At one point the Flt Lt was standing at the top of the access ladder in the cockpit with the Sqn Ldr at the bottom shouting, "you come down here and say that."
At one point the Flt Lt was standing at the top of the access ladder in the cockpit with the Sqn Ldr at the bottom shouting, "you come down here and say that."
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The Seats of the Mighty.
Chugalug,
They didn't pay us much, but we were "Masters under God", as they who serve under the Red Duster proudly term themselves. If anyone disputed that after you got the wheels up, you could clap him in irons !.......D
Fareastdriver,
I'm not sure that would stand up in Court. I seem to remember that QRs & ACIs says something about the Cloak of Invincibility covering you only when you're in the air. But then your F/Lt could quite reasonably argue that, as he was manifestly not on the ground, there was nowhere else he could be, and it would seem that the S/Ldr appreciated the situation in that light.....D
Is there a Barrack Room Lawyer in the House ?
My regards to you both, Danny.
They didn't pay us much, but we were "Masters under God", as they who serve under the Red Duster proudly term themselves. If anyone disputed that after you got the wheels up, you could clap him in irons !.......D
Fareastdriver,
I'm not sure that would stand up in Court. I seem to remember that QRs & ACIs says something about the Cloak of Invincibility covering you only when you're in the air. But then your F/Lt could quite reasonably argue that, as he was manifestly not on the ground, there was nowhere else he could be, and it would seem that the S/Ldr appreciated the situation in that light.....D
Is there a Barrack Room Lawyer in the House ?
My regards to you both, Danny.
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Posts: n/a
Danny and the Safebreakers.
In the New Year, I had hardly got back from Ehrwald when something really unexpected came my way. I had always skirted round the outer fringes of the Courts Martial empire: first as an Officer Under Instruction, then as being threatened with one, then as a possible Defending Officer, and lastly as the (temporary) custodian of the Prosecution's Exhibit "A" at another.
Now the wheel turned full circle, I was bidden to hie me to RAF Acklington and there to serve as Junior Member of a District (?) Court Martial. The faithful Minx was pressed into service, I got out my Best Blue (+ Medals ?) and drove up to a colder and bleaker part of the North East even than Teesside (if that be possible). But a pleasant surprise awaited me there. It seems that the members of a Court are not permitted to stay at the Station where the Court is to convene, lest impartial justice be put in peril by opinion or prejudice overheard there.
Accordingly they put us up in a cosy old pub in Alnwick. Warm, comfortable, good grub, a nice little bar and all paid for. After settling-in, I rather hoped that the proceedings might last a few weeks. But it was not to be, and a good thing too. The Court was to sit in the Station cinema; I think the central heating was bust, and it was absolutely freezing. We were all huddled in our greatcoats throughout.
IIRC, we consisted of a W/Cdr (President), a S/Ldr and myself, with a Deputy Judge Advocate to keep us in line. We all swore the sonorous Court Martial oath (".....that I will not at any time, in any place, under any circumstances whatsoever, reveal the verdict of any member of this Court..."). And so the business began. The Prosecutor outlined his case in his Opening Statement. He unfolded a tale so far beyond reasonable belief that you would not credit it as fiction.
There were three known Bad Lads at Acklington (A,B,& C, shall we say). After a Saturday night's carousal in the NAAFI, cash was a little short and our trio knew where they could lay their hands on a bit more. In the Station Adj's office there was a safe known to contain the cash balances of the Non-Public Funds. This safe was not secured in any way, but merely sat on a strong wooden stand (so did mine, for that matter). They broke into SHQ round the back, got into the office and manhandled the safe back out the way they'd come.
More tractive power was now needed. Leaving it there for the moment they went down to the MT section (Duty Driver ??? - don't know) and returned with a tractor, haulage chains and a fire axe they'd picked up somewhere on the way. They chained the safe up and shackled it to the tractor. Then they dragged it through the domestic camp onto the airfield, round the taxiway to a salvage dump on the far side, and set about it with the fire axe.
Of course there was never any hope of cracking it that way, so after inflicting some minor damage and hacking the handle off, they gave it up as a bad job. The alcoholic fumes having dispersed somewhat by now, they abandoned it and the axe, took the tractor and chains back to the MT bay, retired to the billet and slept the sleep of the unjust.
Normally things would be quiet over the weekend, but an unusually conscientious Station Adj had some urgent paperwork to do. He went down to SHQ after breakfast and found himself safeless. All Hell broke loose, the place was soon crawling with SPs and the local police. A frantic search of the environs turned up nothing, and it was not until Monday morning that a little man who was, it appeared, the custodian of the salvage dump, came in and diffidently asked "Are you quite sure you wanted that old safe you've just put out to go for scrap ?"
They all rushed out, the key still worked in the lock, it was all there and the panic was over. Now to find the miscreants. Curiously, nobody came forward with any information, but the SPs had a good idea where to start. They roped in the three Likely Suspects (as it was obviously an "inside job"), and set about it in the time honoured way. grilling them separately.
They started with A. "B and C have given us statements. They say it was all your idea". "Go away, please", said A (or words to that effect). They fared no better with B, but hit pay dirt with C. "The dirty b@st@rds" said C , "I'll tell you what really happened". They got a statement from him, confronted A and B with it, got two more, all blaming each other, and now had the whole lot in the bag.
All three pleaded "Guilty" (mercifully, as by now we were all in dire brass-monkey peril). The Court gave them six months imprisonment apiece, and a dishonourable discharge, all confirmed by the AOC. I understand that it was after this case that A.M. ruled that all safes containing more than a small amount of cash must be bricked-in.
Good evening, chaps,
Danny42C.
We don't make much money, but we do see life !
Now the wheel turned full circle, I was bidden to hie me to RAF Acklington and there to serve as Junior Member of a District (?) Court Martial. The faithful Minx was pressed into service, I got out my Best Blue (+ Medals ?) and drove up to a colder and bleaker part of the North East even than Teesside (if that be possible). But a pleasant surprise awaited me there. It seems that the members of a Court are not permitted to stay at the Station where the Court is to convene, lest impartial justice be put in peril by opinion or prejudice overheard there.
Accordingly they put us up in a cosy old pub in Alnwick. Warm, comfortable, good grub, a nice little bar and all paid for. After settling-in, I rather hoped that the proceedings might last a few weeks. But it was not to be, and a good thing too. The Court was to sit in the Station cinema; I think the central heating was bust, and it was absolutely freezing. We were all huddled in our greatcoats throughout.
IIRC, we consisted of a W/Cdr (President), a S/Ldr and myself, with a Deputy Judge Advocate to keep us in line. We all swore the sonorous Court Martial oath (".....that I will not at any time, in any place, under any circumstances whatsoever, reveal the verdict of any member of this Court..."). And so the business began. The Prosecutor outlined his case in his Opening Statement. He unfolded a tale so far beyond reasonable belief that you would not credit it as fiction.
There were three known Bad Lads at Acklington (A,B,& C, shall we say). After a Saturday night's carousal in the NAAFI, cash was a little short and our trio knew where they could lay their hands on a bit more. In the Station Adj's office there was a safe known to contain the cash balances of the Non-Public Funds. This safe was not secured in any way, but merely sat on a strong wooden stand (so did mine, for that matter). They broke into SHQ round the back, got into the office and manhandled the safe back out the way they'd come.
More tractive power was now needed. Leaving it there for the moment they went down to the MT section (Duty Driver ??? - don't know) and returned with a tractor, haulage chains and a fire axe they'd picked up somewhere on the way. They chained the safe up and shackled it to the tractor. Then they dragged it through the domestic camp onto the airfield, round the taxiway to a salvage dump on the far side, and set about it with the fire axe.
Of course there was never any hope of cracking it that way, so after inflicting some minor damage and hacking the handle off, they gave it up as a bad job. The alcoholic fumes having dispersed somewhat by now, they abandoned it and the axe, took the tractor and chains back to the MT bay, retired to the billet and slept the sleep of the unjust.
Normally things would be quiet over the weekend, but an unusually conscientious Station Adj had some urgent paperwork to do. He went down to SHQ after breakfast and found himself safeless. All Hell broke loose, the place was soon crawling with SPs and the local police. A frantic search of the environs turned up nothing, and it was not until Monday morning that a little man who was, it appeared, the custodian of the salvage dump, came in and diffidently asked "Are you quite sure you wanted that old safe you've just put out to go for scrap ?"
They all rushed out, the key still worked in the lock, it was all there and the panic was over. Now to find the miscreants. Curiously, nobody came forward with any information, but the SPs had a good idea where to start. They roped in the three Likely Suspects (as it was obviously an "inside job"), and set about it in the time honoured way. grilling them separately.
They started with A. "B and C have given us statements. They say it was all your idea". "Go away, please", said A (or words to that effect). They fared no better with B, but hit pay dirt with C. "The dirty b@st@rds" said C , "I'll tell you what really happened". They got a statement from him, confronted A and B with it, got two more, all blaming each other, and now had the whole lot in the bag.
All three pleaded "Guilty" (mercifully, as by now we were all in dire brass-monkey peril). The Court gave them six months imprisonment apiece, and a dishonourable discharge, all confirmed by the AOC. I understand that it was after this case that A.M. ruled that all safes containing more than a small amount of cash must be bricked-in.
Good evening, chaps,
Danny42C.
We don't make much money, but we do see life !
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SAAF Liberator Air Gunner 1944/45
Gentlemen - I've posted links to some of Tinus Le Roux's works before, today I offer you his latest
https://www.youtube.com/watch?featur...&v=cF2CPtV94mE
This is a subject close to my heart as my Dad flew with 34 and then 31 SAAF from July '44 to Feb '45 as an RAF(VR) Air Gunner on attachment completing some 43 missions including Danube mining, Ploesti & Warsaw supply drop;
For info a group of us are in the preliminary stages of organising similar interviews with a small number of UK based veterans who also served with 31 & 34 SAAF
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?featur...&v=cF2CPtV94mE
This is a subject close to my heart as my Dad flew with 34 and then 31 SAAF from July '44 to Feb '45 as an RAF(VR) Air Gunner on attachment completing some 43 missions including Danube mining, Ploesti & Warsaw supply drop;
For info a group of us are in the preliminary stages of organising similar interviews with a small number of UK based veterans who also served with 31 & 34 SAAF
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
Last edited by pzu; 29th May 2013 at 09:52.