Funny Things Happen in The Air Force
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I was on detachment to Canada for three months during 1967 which was the 100th Anniversary of Confederation. The Canadian forces had of course many ceremonial parades that year. Many of the Canadians had served on U.N. Peacekeeping duties for which they had been awarded the UN medal, not many bothered to sew on the ribbon. It was promulgated on orders that all, repeat all decorations will be worn on the rehersal for the "big one".
When the day dawned an elderly Corporal in either the Engineers or RCEME appeared looking a little like a Ruritanian Admiral. It transpired that he had been a pilot in the Luftwaffe with a few exotic decorations, had then defected to the Russians and flown for them - more decorations and then been captured. After the war he had emigrated to Canada and later enlisted in the Canadian army.
What to do with him, the Iron Cross was ruled inadmissable, but there was doubt about the others (including I believe, Hero of the Soviet Union). In the finish he was excused the parade.
When the day dawned an elderly Corporal in either the Engineers or RCEME appeared looking a little like a Ruritanian Admiral. It transpired that he had been a pilot in the Luftwaffe with a few exotic decorations, had then defected to the Russians and flown for them - more decorations and then been captured. After the war he had emigrated to Canada and later enlisted in the Canadian army.
What to do with him, the Iron Cross was ruled inadmissable, but there was doubt about the others (including I believe, Hero of the Soviet Union). In the finish he was excused the parade.
Papa Whisky Alpha, that takes me back to a certain graduation at RAFC Cranwell. A Royal Personage was due to be the Reviewing Officer, so the flunkies of Officer Training Wing sent round a questionnaire to establish who amongst the graduating officers had a suitable pedigree to Meet The Royal during pre-lunch drinkies... Questions such as 'Where did you go to school?' and 'Did your father serve in the war? If so, in which rank?'
They even held a practice 'standing around in formal groups' session, so that all we plebs knew our place.
One graduating mate wrote 'Yes, my father was in the army during the war and served as a major until he was taken prisoner in North Africa in 1943'. The oikish Flt Cdr seized on this as perhaps an opportunity to worm his way into the Royal Circle and summoned the graduating mate to his office. "Right, Bloggs, which regiment?", was the next question...
"Eighth Panzer Regiment, Deutsches Afrika Korps, sir!"
"You're taking the p*ss - GET OUT!"
"But sir, if I'm half-Kraut, I'm probably a distant relative of the Royal!"
"GET OUT!!"
They even held a practice 'standing around in formal groups' session, so that all we plebs knew our place.
One graduating mate wrote 'Yes, my father was in the army during the war and served as a major until he was taken prisoner in North Africa in 1943'. The oikish Flt Cdr seized on this as perhaps an opportunity to worm his way into the Royal Circle and summoned the graduating mate to his office. "Right, Bloggs, which regiment?", was the next question...
"Eighth Panzer Regiment, Deutsches Afrika Korps, sir!"
"You're taking the p*ss - GET OUT!"
"But sir, if I'm half-Kraut, I'm probably a distant relative of the Royal!"
"GET OUT!!"
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1979, on a Target Towing Squadron useing old bombers, we had a rigger Corporal due to retire at age 55, he had actually flown in Lancs as a tail gunner early in his career. AOC was due a visit and 90% of the station personel were due to parade on the day, so many practices were carried out, reguardless of the cost.
The day finally arrives and every one is in best blue and medals, as these were days before recent altercations in sandy places, and most uniforms were rather plain, a few GSMs, mainly for NI, the odd Jubilee, and some undiscovered crime medal on others, not our Corporal he has a good 2 rows of colour and bright metalwork.
The AOC is 'inspecting' Squadron by Squadron at a fairly good speed until he passed our Corporal, he actually overshot him by 2 airman until he realised what he had seen, he back paces to stand in front of him and has a chat while looking at the medals. At last he moves on after saying
'Well done Corporal, you have got medals there that even I havent got'
The day finally arrives and every one is in best blue and medals, as these were days before recent altercations in sandy places, and most uniforms were rather plain, a few GSMs, mainly for NI, the odd Jubilee, and some undiscovered crime medal on others, not our Corporal he has a good 2 rows of colour and bright metalwork.
The AOC is 'inspecting' Squadron by Squadron at a fairly good speed until he passed our Corporal, he actually overshot him by 2 airman until he realised what he had seen, he back paces to stand in front of him and has a chat while looking at the medals. At last he moves on after saying
'Well done Corporal, you have got medals there that even I havent got'
Many years ago at TTTE(for the younger ones a joint training unit for Tornado aircrew, Brits, Germans and Italians(and Saudi's)) a fireman decided to take a TACR(little range rover fire engine) for a drive at night amongst the Torn line. He has an accident, turning the TACR into a convertable!! and causing thousands of damage to a German Tornado.
German instructor on hearing of the damage and punishment for the fireman says
' why are you worrying ? 40 years ago he woud have got a f***ing medal !!'
German instructor on hearing of the damage and punishment for the fireman says
' why are you worrying ? 40 years ago he woud have got a f***ing medal !!'
Circa 1970. Westbound Britannia crew on the Changi slip arrives in Bahrain and drops into the transit bar to enjoy a few re-hydrating beers before heading for the Britannia House Hotel in Manama. Out WRAF ALM, a very attractive girl with a wicked sense of humour, begins to undo the front buttons of her pale blue tropical dress as the air conditioning loses it's battle against the rising summer heat. An hour later the crew of the resident US Navy Convair 440 walked into the bar. The captain, a Lt Cdr who I knew slightly, came over to say hello. As I introduced him to our glamorous loadmaster his eyes locked onto the revealing gap down the front of her dress. "Pleased to meet you maam," he said, shaking her hand. "And what is your position on the crew?"
She smiled sweetly and replied: "Normally, flat on me back - sir!"
It was the only time I saw a US Navy officer blush!
She smiled sweetly and replied: "Normally, flat on me back - sir!"
It was the only time I saw a US Navy officer blush!
Last edited by brakedwell; 8th May 2010 at 14:32.
DIOT early 80s and yet another search for savings. As a somewhat long-in-the-tooth re-entrant flt lt am invited by DDIOT (RMR, he of the ready grin and the dog that eat cadets) to make suggestions on savings - "Easy, Sir. You know that the staff wives open a secret book after the "Meet and Creep" on who in the husband's flight will graduate. It actually has about a 95% correlation with the actual results. So we could have the meet and creep, get the wives predictions, announce the results on Wednesday and have the Graduation on Friday. Saves 17 weeks training!"
Rapid exit stage left, with RMR threatening all sorts of retribution.
Rapid exit stage left, with RMR threatening all sorts of retribution.
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Malta circa '73, officers beach Kalafrana (now a container port), Squadron Leader performing military breaststroke with moustache barely wet, shout from shore "what's it like N.......n", response "jolly nice but f@@@@@g cold". on beach, holidaying mother of lancastrian Flt Lt RAFP "ee, dunt it sound better said posh" !
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RAFG late 70's, close to the Dutch border, home to the Last British Bomber, Avionics Centre rover is en-route to Singly Strasse for some menial task, (possibly something like sheet change I don't remember that bit too well). Said task is completed and our 3 chaps are looking for something a little lively to brighten up the day, a brief discussion and it is decided to attempt some bondu bashing via a shortcut track through the woods which ended up back close to the avionics centre. Driver sets off with some gusto in the firm belief that he had the driving skills of Colin Macrae and the SWB landy was deserving of some harsh treatment from time to time....that's what it's for is'nt it ? Well, at the subsequent enquiry the RAFP were at pains to understand how the vehicle could possibly have been travelling at only around 20-25 kph, by our own admission,.........in 4th gear. Unfortunately when the said perpetrators had buried themselves deep enough, the plods then produced the photos, wheel tracks, then nothing, then wheel tracks, then nothing........then the rover in close conversation with a big conifer tree. Fortunately no-one was seriously injured, the driver ended up with various one way interviews and a dent in his LOA, never did him any harm as he ended up with a very successful career as an Air Eng on C130's, wonder if you read these PG? the rover, sadly a write off. Ah, those WERE the good old days.
About 9 months after post 132 I have been told I am posted and promoted to be OC Admin Sqn at a small Norfold Air Defence radar unit (Hence first words after receiving the news to the now Mrs Wanderoo "How would you like to live in Norfolk?" - response - "Why would I want to live in Norfolk? Is that a proposal?"). Phone call from my predecessor - "Station Commander wants you here next week for a Taceval exercise as Ground Defence Commander and you are to be dressed as a sqn ldr. It's been fixed with you boss" (I bet the rank tabs hadn't!). So there I am an hour into the exercise not having even seen the perimeter except the gate, when the tannoy goes "Exercise, exercise - fire at the transmitter site". "Where's that?", I asked - Stalham 4 miles away. We have one fire appliance, staffed by MoD civilians. Simples - won't be a real fire, and the main asseet is the main site - so "CPX call civilian fire servivce to deal with exercise fire at Transmitter site" goes in the log. Almost immediately an irate woman smoking and wearing gp capt's rank badges bursts into the GDCC - "Squadron leader - when there is a fire on my station it has bxxxxxy flames coming out of it - send the fire engine to Stalham NOW!"
A sheepish "Yes, Mam", and a mumbled introduction followed, and I wondered where I would be posted instead.
A few hours later I was told to give the ground defence brief at the shift change. I eventually found the briefing room, and listened to 15 minutes of a foreign language, or so it seemed. My turn came and I mounted the rostrum - "Station Commander, ladies and gentlemen - so far I have not understood a word. I hope I do better." Joan H roared with laughter, and I guessed, correctly, that my posting would stand. It did, and I, and we, had a very happy 21 months there
A sheepish "Yes, Mam", and a mumbled introduction followed, and I wondered where I would be posted instead.
A few hours later I was told to give the ground defence brief at the shift change. I eventually found the briefing room, and listened to 15 minutes of a foreign language, or so it seemed. My turn came and I mounted the rostrum - "Station Commander, ladies and gentlemen - so far I have not understood a word. I hope I do better." Joan H roared with laughter, and I guessed, correctly, that my posting would stand. It did, and I, and we, had a very happy 21 months there
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Circa early '70's Brize Norton. Streaking was all the rage and one night a chap dashes through the crowded Sgts Mess bar, wearing nothing more than a paper bag over his head. ''Who the 
was that?'' cried someone. 'Dunno'' replied a female Sgt. Load Master ''but he's not on 99 Sqdn.'' Silence as everyone turns towards her, begging the obvious question.
was that?'' cried someone. 'Dunno'' replied a female Sgt. Load Master ''but he's not on 99 Sqdn.'' Silence as everyone turns towards her, begging the obvious question.
MPA, Jan 86. Just posted in as first OC SSS, with main job of taking over £400m worth of facilities and open RAF Mount Pleasant on 1 May. First building to be taken over is the police dog compound. Building looks OK, everything works, so looking good, then we look at the exercise yard. Brow of FS policeman i/c police dogs darkens. "There's a problem, Sir", he says. "I have two dogs that could clear that wire in one go. Also the weldmesh had lots of sharp edges that would shred the dog's paws". Out come the drawings - and we realise the problem. Some show the concrete posts as 6ft plus the turn in at the top (the bent bit), others show 6ft including the turn-in. Guess which has been built. My simple solution - de-slab the weld mesh and then put plastic-coated chain link across the top to stop the dogs escaping. Horror on the face of the main PSA man - no money, not in the drawings, etc, etc. "Cheaper than knocking it down and starting again", I said. "The problem with you service people" says Mr PSA "is that you do not realise this place is built to 75% of UK training scale" (which explains why when I took over SHQ a month later we could get me or a desk in my office, not both). "Fine", I said, "get me 3 legged police dogs". End of argument, and a few days later the Tri* flew down a roll of green plastic chain-link!
RAF Stanley 1983. We are working from tents, living in the Coastel when not on QRA, building our own Portacabins and generally everybody mucking in and getting the job done. For example if the Q F4s were scrambled the Herc Tanker had to go as well, and sometimes could be airborne for hours - we never got airborne without rations because the guys from the field kitchen would be at the aircraft with sandwiches, sometimes before the crew got there. (They got a lot of flights on our mail drops to South Georgia!) The army truck driver who had a puncture just alongside where we were preparing the ground for our portacabins, and who felt he could not possibly change the tyre with all those stones from the quarry on the truck, got a flight to South Georgia as well.
Unfortunately the blunties started to try to "normalise" the place and one day we got a memo along the lines of "With effect from Monday 1 May, Supply Squadron will only be open from Mon - Fri 0830-1200 and 1300 - 1700".
This was followed the next day by a memo from OC PhanDet (maybe 23 Sqn by then) which said "With effect from Monday 1 May, Phantom Air Defence of the Falkland Islands will only be available from Mon - Fri 0830-1200 and 1300-1700" - brilliant!
One day I had some problem which, unfortunately, could only be solved by OC Admin. I went to his office (tent) and stamped on the wooden pallet outside which was our equivalent of knocking on the door. He said "Go away, don't you know it's Sunday". I said "No". "What do you mean, No?" "I've just landed from a 3-hour sortie and I've got another flight in a couple of hours - one day is much like another." At least he had the good grace to back down and let me in!
Unfortunately the blunties started to try to "normalise" the place and one day we got a memo along the lines of "With effect from Monday 1 May, Supply Squadron will only be open from Mon - Fri 0830-1200 and 1300 - 1700".
This was followed the next day by a memo from OC PhanDet (maybe 23 Sqn by then) which said "With effect from Monday 1 May, Phantom Air Defence of the Falkland Islands will only be available from Mon - Fri 0830-1200 and 1300-1700" - brilliant!
One day I had some problem which, unfortunately, could only be solved by OC Admin. I went to his office (tent) and stamped on the wooden pallet outside which was our equivalent of knocking on the door. He said "Go away, don't you know it's Sunday". I said "No". "What do you mean, No?" "I've just landed from a 3-hour sortie and I've got another flight in a couple of hours - one day is much like another." At least he had the good grace to back down and let me in!
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Christmas 1963 Khormaksar.
Shortly before Christmas it was decreed that 5004 Squadron ACB should be moved to a partially completed camp near the eastern end of the main runway adjacent to our work site. On the morning we were standing down for the Christmas break we went from section to section having the odd 'bevvy' but eventually the beer ran out. By this time everyone was fairly inebriated, nevertheless we were still thirsty and decided to visit the Camel Club at Khormaksar. The Squadron Commander removed his rank badges and he and the survivers (numbering about 20) climbed aboard my LWB and of we went. On the way the O.C. who had somehow found a carton of milk poured it over my head whilst singing "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas". We drove straight through the entrance to Khormaksar without stopping and made for the Camel Club.
The Orderly Sergeant saw us coming and tried to get the shutters down but several of our group grabbed the OC and heaved him over the bar, the O/Sgt promptly thumped him and heaved him back. However by this time we had gained a foothold and after negotiations got a few cases of beer in exchange for "permitting" him to close and disappear.
When we finally left we "borrowed" the piano and took it with us as we had no entertainment in our half built accomodation. (The piano was eventually returned under a twelve hour amnesty a few days later, after a number of fruitless searches by the RAF Police)
I decided to "borrow" the LWB and we ran it as a shuttle over the Christmas period and eventually I was charged with the unauthorised use of service transport. Before the hearing was arranged I asked the "Adjt" if I could call witnesses to speak on my behalf and presented him with a list which included the OC and the Adjt (who had been on the Rover). and reminded him of the carton of milk incident.
The OC, MTO, my Flt.Cdr, the Adjt, old Uncle Tom Cobley and All went into conference. Following this I had to see the OC and was bawled out but the decision was that it was in the Squadron interest to keep it in house, much to my relief.
I still wonder if this had any bearing on my being sent up country the following week !!!
Shortly before Christmas it was decreed that 5004 Squadron ACB should be moved to a partially completed camp near the eastern end of the main runway adjacent to our work site. On the morning we were standing down for the Christmas break we went from section to section having the odd 'bevvy' but eventually the beer ran out. By this time everyone was fairly inebriated, nevertheless we were still thirsty and decided to visit the Camel Club at Khormaksar. The Squadron Commander removed his rank badges and he and the survivers (numbering about 20) climbed aboard my LWB and of we went. On the way the O.C. who had somehow found a carton of milk poured it over my head whilst singing "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas". We drove straight through the entrance to Khormaksar without stopping and made for the Camel Club.
The Orderly Sergeant saw us coming and tried to get the shutters down but several of our group grabbed the OC and heaved him over the bar, the O/Sgt promptly thumped him and heaved him back. However by this time we had gained a foothold and after negotiations got a few cases of beer in exchange for "permitting" him to close and disappear.
When we finally left we "borrowed" the piano and took it with us as we had no entertainment in our half built accomodation. (The piano was eventually returned under a twelve hour amnesty a few days later, after a number of fruitless searches by the RAF Police)
I decided to "borrow" the LWB and we ran it as a shuttle over the Christmas period and eventually I was charged with the unauthorised use of service transport. Before the hearing was arranged I asked the "Adjt" if I could call witnesses to speak on my behalf and presented him with a list which included the OC and the Adjt (who had been on the Rover). and reminded him of the carton of milk incident.
The OC, MTO, my Flt.Cdr, the Adjt, old Uncle Tom Cobley and All went into conference. Following this I had to see the OC and was bawled out but the decision was that it was in the Squadron interest to keep it in house, much to my relief.
I still wonder if this had any bearing on my being sent up country the following week !!!
Last edited by Papa Whisky Alpha; 8th May 2010 at 22:05.
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More years ago than I care to remember, there I was, a shiny new tech at my very first posting. I got all my gear squared away in my barracks and headed out to introduce myself and meet my new boss. The moment I stepped out onto the street, a Staff Car came sweeping around the corner and screeched to a haul in front of me. The passenger door swung open and a very large, red faced, and completely overpowering Base Warrant Officer stood with his finger pointed in my direction. In a voice better suited to quieting Grizzly Bears, he demanded to know why I had failed to salute the Commanding Officer's car. My quivering reply sent his bloody pressure into the high danger zone, and the officer in the back seat choked. "But sir. I didn't know it was the CO's car! There's no pendant flying!" The Chief looked at the front of the car, turned yet another shade of crimson, and reached inside. Once he had affixed the missing pendant, he climbed back into the car and it drove off to the sound of hearty laughter coming from the back seat. By the way, said Chief learned my name and for as long as I was at that RCAF Station, I was assured of regular attendance on CO's Parades . . . and other Station Duties.
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The line at RAF Brize Norton used to man the gate that lead onto the airfield instead of doing the main gate duties.
One day E***s was manning the gate at rush hour when the Station Commander turns up, Smart salute and out he goes,
"Morning Sir, can I see your ID and Airfields driving permit please" Documents produced,
"Thank you Sir, unfortunately your Airfield driving permit is expired",
"Do you know who I am airman?" asks the CO
"Yes Sir, the Station Commander" replies E***S,
"Then you know that I Issue the Airfield driving permits"
" No Sir, you authorise their issue, but with out a valid one you cannot enter"........
By this time a large queue of vehicles has formed behind the CO'S car and realising something is up the occupants are grinning from ear to ear...
"Are you going to let me in?" Enquires the CO
"No Sir" replies E***s who moves off to wave all the other traffic to back up so the CO can turn his car round and leave.
15 mins pass and back he comes, having been to get his permit renewed at which point he is allowed onto his own Airfield.
One day E***s was manning the gate at rush hour when the Station Commander turns up, Smart salute and out he goes,
"Morning Sir, can I see your ID and Airfields driving permit please" Documents produced,
"Thank you Sir, unfortunately your Airfield driving permit is expired",
"Do you know who I am airman?" asks the CO
"Yes Sir, the Station Commander" replies E***S,
"Then you know that I Issue the Airfield driving permits"
" No Sir, you authorise their issue, but with out a valid one you cannot enter"........
By this time a large queue of vehicles has formed behind the CO'S car and realising something is up the occupants are grinning from ear to ear...
"Are you going to let me in?" Enquires the CO
"No Sir" replies E***s who moves off to wave all the other traffic to back up so the CO can turn his car round and leave.
15 mins pass and back he comes, having been to get his permit renewed at which point he is allowed onto his own Airfield.
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Wildenrath mid 70's . Happy Hour.
Station Commander is engaged in conversation with a Flt. Lt. whom he only knew as "Jim" - having had a senior moment over said officer's surname.
Jim slips out of bar to go to the loo.
Seizing the moment, Stationmaster quietly asks nearby WRAF air trafficker if she could remind him of Jim's surname,
.
.
" Er... um, Jim who?, Sir"
Station Commander is engaged in conversation with a Flt. Lt. whom he only knew as "Jim" - having had a senior moment over said officer's surname.
Jim slips out of bar to go to the loo.
Seizing the moment, Stationmaster quietly asks nearby WRAF air trafficker if she could remind him of Jim's surname,
.
.
" Er... um, Jim who?, Sir"
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4mastacker:-
That same welshman, Dave Lunnon ('Lovely boy, lovely boy, do you play rugger?') was a Corporal Discip i/c the Direct Entrants at the same time, and the same snowfall of my post #69 story. Halton. Late 70's.
On Henderson parade square, the DE's were formed up in front of us, with him out front. We were therefore behind, with our Cpl Discip, also later to be a SWO.
As the few cheeky snowballs started to come from our ranks, he could be heard muttering under his slashed peak -
(Baritone welsh accent - Windsor Davies style)
'Steady Boys, steady. Hold your ground, steady now.'
Then someone knocked his hat off...
During a tour at MPA we had a SWO who was "a bit eccentric" -- he left a life-size photograph of himself at the main gate of his parent unit in deepest Buckinghamshire.........
On Henderson parade square, the DE's were formed up in front of us, with him out front. We were therefore behind, with our Cpl Discip, also later to be a SWO.
As the few cheeky snowballs started to come from our ranks, he could be heard muttering under his slashed peak -
(Baritone welsh accent - Windsor Davies style)
'Steady Boys, steady. Hold your ground, steady now.'
Then someone knocked his hat off...
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Mid '70's. I was a Corporal.
It was F6442 time (the Airmens Annual Assessment).
I knew that I had had a cracking 12 months. I knew I had performed well. I was a star. I knew my Assessments would be brilliant
Summoned to the WO's office, discreet tap on his office door and entered when duly invited.
I then suffered 10 minutes of the biggest dressing down I had ever received (up until that point in my career).
I was idle, scruffy, lazy, a disgrace, needed to buck my ideas up etc etc.
Totally stunned, I signed the form when ordered to and was dismissed from the WO's office with "NOW GET OUT AND SEND 'TAXYDUAL' IN".
"But" I bleated in reply "I am 'Taxydual'".
An outbreak of WO embarrassment followed.
To this day, I have no idea whose F6442 I was debriefed on.
Two things followed.
1. I starred on my real F6442 debrief.
2. I vowed to know (and did so) all the guys and girls who came under my subsequent command.
It was F6442 time (the Airmens Annual Assessment).
I knew that I had had a cracking 12 months. I knew I had performed well. I was a star. I knew my Assessments would be brilliant
Summoned to the WO's office, discreet tap on his office door and entered when duly invited.
I then suffered 10 minutes of the biggest dressing down I had ever received (up until that point in my career).
I was idle, scruffy, lazy, a disgrace, needed to buck my ideas up etc etc.
Totally stunned, I signed the form when ordered to and was dismissed from the WO's office with "NOW GET OUT AND SEND 'TAXYDUAL' IN".
"But" I bleated in reply "I am 'Taxydual'".
An outbreak of WO embarrassment followed.
To this day, I have no idea whose F6442 I was debriefed on.
Two things followed.
1. I starred on my real F6442 debrief.
2. I vowed to know (and did so) all the guys and girls who came under my subsequent command.