Help for Heroes and...., ahem,.. Airfix
Join Date: Dec 2007
Location: Beyond the Black Stump
Age: 72
Posts: 6
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My brush with parental wrath involved a bright idea to mass-paint three boxes of Airfix 1/72 Russian WW2 infantry. I poured earth-brown enamel into a basin and plonked the soldiers into it. My gameplan was to fish them out, allow them to dry and then paint in faces and equipment detail later. Sadly, it was my mother's washing-up basin. She took an instant sense of humour failure and emptied basin, paint and soldiers into the dustbin. My military procurement budget was then stopped - 2/6 a week pocket money - until I'd paid for a new basin.
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The Battle of Jutland
My father had a beautiful collection of 1/600 airfix warships on the top of the cupboard protected with various 1/72 and 1/48 aircraft maintaining a maritime exclusion zone over my brothers bed. The Battle of Jutland started quietly with division of forces with Prinz Eugan 1/600 leading out the Boche (which included HMS Ark Royal to make numbers up). HMS Belfast 1/600 bravely being lined up on the other side of the patio. Gaps in capability were quickly plugged by an extremely efficient procurement process using lego. The battle opened with the usual trading of fire (stones) before a morning full of lego building was destroyed. By the time the first ship was doused in some meths type spirit from the camping stove in the garage an impressive array of forces were lined up fighting each other with ships, 1/76 Waterloo French Grenadiers and WWII German Infantry all entering the fray. Various Dinkys and similar held a battle reserve - and if that went there was always more lego. The ships and a 1/76 Strikemaster, once on fire, were carefully and unceremoniously dumped into the pond (read mud ditch) by my brother with a pair of fire tongs. My history has never been good but with most ships gone we were quickly into an aerial dogfight between a 1/72 Spitfire (My favourite) and a Sepecat Jaguar (my brother favourite). As my brother was 2 years younger the Jag never had a chance. The spitfire remained for many years as a tribute to the few (models we had left).
It is probably the only time I saw my father cry.
This is a secret that I have kept. The shame I had to hide in front of my colleagues at Coltishall remains. However, the pride of going past the BBMF Hangar most mornings at Coningsby more than placated it.
It is probably the only time I saw my father cry.
This is a secret that I have kept. The shame I had to hide in front of my colleagues at Coltishall remains. However, the pride of going past the BBMF Hangar most mornings at Coningsby more than placated it.
