Tipsy and Wurz - Top Table Tales?
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Indeed. The Giant Rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared.
Older Ascoteers will fondly remember that Tenerife is at the operating range of Albert, and two thirds of the way to Sierra Leone. So, first night madness in Playa las Ascoteers. Day 2 - Sierra Leone & back...to Tenerife. Back home for tea & medals.
Often came as quite a surprise to the passengers, with no civvies. I remember once waking up in a Tenerife hotel to the dulcit tones of the Sgt Major marching his troops around the Tennis Courts. They had not expected the nightstop and had behaved like squaddies tend to do after three months in the jungle.
Let's go to Goose Bay...one for the Fast Jet chaps.
Tipsy - Goose Bay - Late 80's
Out in Goose Bay for 18 months, in between drinking heavily with Junior Tech W***y W********e & Junior Tech [Top Bunk Tester], Tipsy was half of the team that built the Terrington Basin Boat Club. The other half was the legendary WO 'Black Bart' Graham. (RIP)
The Unit Commander, seeing the success of the project and being a genius of motivating his guys, changed the name of the building to the Unit Amenities Fund Building and told them to have it finished by AOC’s inspection.
Now under considerable pressure of combining heavy drinking with early starts and hard work, Tipsy & Bart got the job done, and the AOC cut the ribbon on the evening that he arrived in Goose.
Relieved of the stress, Tipsy did what he does best. The next morning everyone was in their No1’s and on the block inspection, Tipsy was discovered by the AOC, asleep in the TV room, in civvies, with a half eaten pizza on his chest.
Later that week, OC Admin ripped up the recommendation letter for an AOC’s commendation in front of him, and replaced it with an informal warning
Some of you may be wondering how Tipsy got his LSGM & Bar. All will become clear soon.
Older Ascoteers will fondly remember that Tenerife is at the operating range of Albert, and two thirds of the way to Sierra Leone. So, first night madness in Playa las Ascoteers. Day 2 - Sierra Leone & back...to Tenerife. Back home for tea & medals.
Often came as quite a surprise to the passengers, with no civvies. I remember once waking up in a Tenerife hotel to the dulcit tones of the Sgt Major marching his troops around the Tennis Courts. They had not expected the nightstop and had behaved like squaddies tend to do after three months in the jungle.
Let's go to Goose Bay...one for the Fast Jet chaps.
Tipsy - Goose Bay - Late 80's
Out in Goose Bay for 18 months, in between drinking heavily with Junior Tech W***y W********e & Junior Tech [Top Bunk Tester], Tipsy was half of the team that built the Terrington Basin Boat Club. The other half was the legendary WO 'Black Bart' Graham. (RIP)
The Unit Commander, seeing the success of the project and being a genius of motivating his guys, changed the name of the building to the Unit Amenities Fund Building and told them to have it finished by AOC’s inspection.
Now under considerable pressure of combining heavy drinking with early starts and hard work, Tipsy & Bart got the job done, and the AOC cut the ribbon on the evening that he arrived in Goose.
Relieved of the stress, Tipsy did what he does best. The next morning everyone was in their No1’s and on the block inspection, Tipsy was discovered by the AOC, asleep in the TV room, in civvies, with a half eaten pizza on his chest.
Later that week, OC Admin ripped up the recommendation letter for an AOC’s commendation in front of him, and replaced it with an informal warning
Some of you may be wondering how Tipsy got his LSGM & Bar. All will become clear soon.
, I've nearly passed out several times due to laughter when reading your anecdotes (including the Karachi hilarity). What's that? Not unusual you say?
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Thanks for the encouragement, I'll keep telling stories as long as you want. My supply is endless, I seem to attract it.
And so does Wurzel, with ideas like this:-
Wurzel - Cosford - late 90's? - Stealing a TSR2
Once when Wurzel was an instructor at Cosford, he was on the Station Working Party for the Open Day. With Cosford choc-a-bloc with spotters, it was routine for all the workers to bring in camp beds and crates of beer and have an after show party, rather than spend all evening trying to get out of the car park.
So far, so good. Not for long though. Cosford’s TSR2 had been dragged out between the two hangars for the air show, near where the working party were having their well deserved crates of beer.
‘Wouldn’t it be funny, if we nicked the TSR2’ decided Wurzel. What could possibly go wrong. So picture the scene. No one on brakes, it hasn’t got any. Wurzel, manfully holding the towing arm, as if half a dozen drunk techies are going to push a 20 ton aircraft.
‘Chocks away’ yells Wurzel (the Instructor). Unfortunately, the TSR2 has plans of it’s own. As soon as the last chock is removed, it senses the freedom previously denied.
And the downhill slope is the opposite direction from Wurzel’s planned route. Well, luckily, one of Wurzel’s fellow jokers managed to get a chock back in before it had gathered too much speed and gone too close to a girt big ditch.
One chock thrown in front of the mainwheel of a moving aircraft. Bit of a sideload on the nosewheel there. And Wurz still hanging on the towbar for dear life. He flies up & across the nose, and headbutts the pitot probe, bending it. So drunken Wurzel tries to straighten the pitot probe and it snaps off.
Just the right time for someone from the Museum to drive around the corner and see the TSR2 50 yds across the pan, and a drunk Wurz stood there with the pitot probe in his hands. Get out of that one, Wurz.
And so does Wurzel, with ideas like this:-
Wurzel - Cosford - late 90's? - Stealing a TSR2
Once when Wurzel was an instructor at Cosford, he was on the Station Working Party for the Open Day. With Cosford choc-a-bloc with spotters, it was routine for all the workers to bring in camp beds and crates of beer and have an after show party, rather than spend all evening trying to get out of the car park.
So far, so good. Not for long though. Cosford’s TSR2 had been dragged out between the two hangars for the air show, near where the working party were having their well deserved crates of beer.
‘Wouldn’t it be funny, if we nicked the TSR2’ decided Wurzel. What could possibly go wrong. So picture the scene. No one on brakes, it hasn’t got any. Wurzel, manfully holding the towing arm, as if half a dozen drunk techies are going to push a 20 ton aircraft.
‘Chocks away’ yells Wurzel (the Instructor). Unfortunately, the TSR2 has plans of it’s own. As soon as the last chock is removed, it senses the freedom previously denied.
And the downhill slope is the opposite direction from Wurzel’s planned route. Well, luckily, one of Wurzel’s fellow jokers managed to get a chock back in before it had gathered too much speed and gone too close to a girt big ditch.
One chock thrown in front of the mainwheel of a moving aircraft. Bit of a sideload on the nosewheel there. And Wurz still hanging on the towbar for dear life. He flies up & across the nose, and headbutts the pitot probe, bending it. So drunken Wurzel tries to straighten the pitot probe and it snaps off.
Just the right time for someone from the Museum to drive around the corner and see the TSR2 50 yds across the pan, and a drunk Wurz stood there with the pitot probe in his hands. Get out of that one, Wurz.
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Tipsy - 84 Sqn, Cyprus - Mid 90's
Fisticuffs
During Tipsy’s tour in Cyprus, the Commonwealth Heads of Government Conference took place, and they had to get 4 out of the 5 Wessex helicopters in Royal / VVIP fit. A massive job that meant a couple of months without a day off, rolling the 24 hr tropical shift pattern through the weekends.
Coinciding with the end of it, there was a Sgt’s/Cpl’s games night.
Tipsy’s mate Paddy was a Direct Entrant techie & on time promotion, and when he got his Cpl’s tapes (which he did that week), he just went to clothing stores and picked them up.
Tipsy, on the late shift and dealing with a load of piddled mess dressed officers returning from a cocktail party on the Royal Yacht Britannia in their helicopter, got to the Sgt’s Mess late and the party was in full swing.
Tipsy made a beeline for the bar and stayed there, hoovering down Brandy Cokes to catch up. Tipsy became aware that his Flt Sgt was very drunk and giving young new Cpl Paddy a serious hard time about his recent automatic promotion. Proper nasty stuff. And Paddy had only been wearing his tapes for a week, so was not putting up much of a defence.
Then the Flt Sgt turned to Tipsy and said ‘And as for you….’
That was as far as he got. The Flt Sgt’s feet actually left the ground as he flew backwards into the wall and slid down it, unconscious. As it was slowly dawning on Tipsy what he had just done, a big Rock Ape Flt Sgt put his arm around him, and said ‘That was brilliant, but you’re going to have to leave now’ ‘I’ve only just [jolly well]* got here’ said Tipsy.
Ord Cpl on Christmas Day
The battered Flt Sgt was told by several senior members of the Mess that he deserved his punch on the nose, but mysteriously Tipsy ended up on Orderly Cpl on Christmas Day. Generally a quiet day, Tipsy was visited by one of the Sqn MACR with some goodies, a few tins of beer and some mince pies, and he invited himself in, nicking Tipsy’s swivel chair and putting his feet on the desk, leaving Tipsy to perch on his own desk with his back to the window.
‘Watch out! Station Commander alert’ said the crewman, noticing a car with a flag on it.
‘Oh no, not more [blasted]* mince pies’ said Tipsy, taking a swig of his can of Carlsberg.
‘Yes, Cpl, more mince pies’ said Mrs Station Commander at the open window.
*F-word
Fisticuffs
During Tipsy’s tour in Cyprus, the Commonwealth Heads of Government Conference took place, and they had to get 4 out of the 5 Wessex helicopters in Royal / VVIP fit. A massive job that meant a couple of months without a day off, rolling the 24 hr tropical shift pattern through the weekends.
Coinciding with the end of it, there was a Sgt’s/Cpl’s games night.
Tipsy’s mate Paddy was a Direct Entrant techie & on time promotion, and when he got his Cpl’s tapes (which he did that week), he just went to clothing stores and picked them up.
Tipsy, on the late shift and dealing with a load of piddled mess dressed officers returning from a cocktail party on the Royal Yacht Britannia in their helicopter, got to the Sgt’s Mess late and the party was in full swing.
Tipsy made a beeline for the bar and stayed there, hoovering down Brandy Cokes to catch up. Tipsy became aware that his Flt Sgt was very drunk and giving young new Cpl Paddy a serious hard time about his recent automatic promotion. Proper nasty stuff. And Paddy had only been wearing his tapes for a week, so was not putting up much of a defence.
Then the Flt Sgt turned to Tipsy and said ‘And as for you….’
That was as far as he got. The Flt Sgt’s feet actually left the ground as he flew backwards into the wall and slid down it, unconscious. As it was slowly dawning on Tipsy what he had just done, a big Rock Ape Flt Sgt put his arm around him, and said ‘That was brilliant, but you’re going to have to leave now’ ‘I’ve only just [jolly well]* got here’ said Tipsy.
Ord Cpl on Christmas Day
The battered Flt Sgt was told by several senior members of the Mess that he deserved his punch on the nose, but mysteriously Tipsy ended up on Orderly Cpl on Christmas Day. Generally a quiet day, Tipsy was visited by one of the Sqn MACR with some goodies, a few tins of beer and some mince pies, and he invited himself in, nicking Tipsy’s swivel chair and putting his feet on the desk, leaving Tipsy to perch on his own desk with his back to the window.
‘Watch out! Station Commander alert’ said the crewman, noticing a car with a flag on it.
‘Oh no, not more [blasted]* mince pies’ said Tipsy, taking a swig of his can of Carlsberg.
‘Yes, Cpl, more mince pies’ said Mrs Station Commander at the open window.
*F-word
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Thanks
SPHLC
Just like to say thanks for a bloody good laugh and for taking the trouble to recount the stories that have also provided me with a hugely welcome trigger to a few memories of my own. I seem to have now reestablished faith in the utterly non-PC instincts of my fellow Brits. Is it possible that the nation isn't beyond redemption? I might even look at the idea of returning there if I thought the same spirit was in a majority.
Please keep up your sterling efforts, I'm hanging on your every word.
Best regards
highcirrus
Just like to say thanks for a bloody good laugh and for taking the trouble to recount the stories that have also provided me with a hugely welcome trigger to a few memories of my own. I seem to have now reestablished faith in the utterly non-PC instincts of my fellow Brits. Is it possible that the nation isn't beyond redemption? I might even look at the idea of returning there if I thought the same spirit was in a majority.
Please keep up your sterling efforts, I'm hanging on your every word.
Best regards
highcirrus
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Wurz - Cosford, Fitters Course - mid 80's
Wurz was riding a racing bike down the M5 to Castle Coombe raceway for a weekend meeting. As the motorway opened up he decided to give it a little blast, unaware of the police car a couple of miles further down the motorway and passed it at a bit of a lick!
The police gave chase, apparently, but it had to be a police unit ahead of him to escort him off the motorway.
The copper was a bit sarcastic and he went over the bike with a purposeful glare. No tax, no MOT, illegal racing tyres etc. He then pushed his pen up the exhaust pipe to feel for the silencer.
So now the copper was in a really bad mood ‘cos he’d lost his favourite pen.
Once his mate caught up with us he issued Wurz with a ticket. Wurz contested the charge, claiming the bike was incapable of such speed. But in the court the Chief Inspector prosecuting had a print out from the speed camera…169.7 MPH so Wurz was bang to rights.
He was on his fitter’s course at the time and as was usual, his Flt Cdr attended court to represent his good character. Or maybe not. Being an ‘hossifer, he was incapable of falsehood. So he turned up in his best blue and suggested that Wurzel receive a custodial sentence!
The magistrate thought that a bit harsh so Wurz got a fine and 9 points. Dissapointed, and not quite done yet, the Flt Cdr announced to the court that the airforce would be taking disciplinary action after the court had finished with him. But back at Cosford, someone realised that his Flt Cdr was actually barking mad, and Wurz got away with it.
Wurz was riding a racing bike down the M5 to Castle Coombe raceway for a weekend meeting. As the motorway opened up he decided to give it a little blast, unaware of the police car a couple of miles further down the motorway and passed it at a bit of a lick!
The police gave chase, apparently, but it had to be a police unit ahead of him to escort him off the motorway.
The copper was a bit sarcastic and he went over the bike with a purposeful glare. No tax, no MOT, illegal racing tyres etc. He then pushed his pen up the exhaust pipe to feel for the silencer.
So now the copper was in a really bad mood ‘cos he’d lost his favourite pen.
Once his mate caught up with us he issued Wurz with a ticket. Wurz contested the charge, claiming the bike was incapable of such speed. But in the court the Chief Inspector prosecuting had a print out from the speed camera…169.7 MPH so Wurz was bang to rights.
He was on his fitter’s course at the time and as was usual, his Flt Cdr attended court to represent his good character. Or maybe not. Being an ‘hossifer, he was incapable of falsehood. So he turned up in his best blue and suggested that Wurzel receive a custodial sentence!
The magistrate thought that a bit harsh so Wurz got a fine and 9 points. Dissapointed, and not quite done yet, the Flt Cdr announced to the court that the airforce would be taking disciplinary action after the court had finished with him. But back at Cosford, someone realised that his Flt Cdr was actually barking mad, and Wurz got away with it.
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Tipsy & Wurz - Cape Town - 2007(?)
Tipsy was not the natural first choice as a GE Trainer, but as it wasn't a States trip, none of the proper trainers were interested.
So off went Tipsy & Wurz for a couple of weeks in deepest darkest Africa with the hooligans, but for an end of det treat, they got two nights in Cape Town.
Quite an expensive way of getting your laundry done, eh? Now Tipsy the instructor was all for seeing the sights, but with only one full day on the ground, he thought it might be more useful training to see how much Wurzel could drink.
Informing his student that they were going out to buy a postcard, they set off for refreshments. So they bought a postcard of Table Top Mountain and sat on the pub verandah sipping cool beers, enjoying the view of...erm...Table Top Mountain.
'Ere Wurzel, that cable car hasn't moved much in the last couple of hours' noted the ever observant Tipsy.
They would never know how much they drank that day, they only knew that Tipsy was buying the odds, and Wurz the evens. But all that heat made them quite thirsty.
In the evening the crew walked in complaining that they’d been dangling all day in a broken down cable car.
Tipsy & Mad Mick - Bermuda 2006(?)
Tipsy was all for seeing the sights, but with only one full day on the ground, he thought it might be a more useful exercise to see how much Mick could drink...
Having trailed a couple of medium jets from the Falklands, up through South America, turning right somewhere and ending up in Bermuda...
What happened was, either on the night stop in Panama, or possibly Puerto Rico, the medium jet crew made the foolish error of eating on the ground, something that Ascoteers are trained to avoid.
This slow acting food poisioning took effect in Bermuda. Well it would, wouldn't it. But the Medium Jet pilot was no amateur. Oh no. This was PPRuNer 'Reichman' (RIP) trained by our very own BEagle.
So for extra effect, and to deflect conspiracy theorists, we were all checked out of our rooms and waiting for transport, when Reichman loudly announced that he had shat in his flying suit, there would be a 24 hr delay, and laundry was authorised.
The Ascoteer crew had there laundry in, and their second cash inject, (and the crew had hired mopeds) in double quick time.
With beer in Bermuda at something like the equivalent of £6.00 a pint, Tipsy & Mick had a lazy day followed by a few drinks that night...
Another 24 hr delay, another cash inject - Tipsy & Mick decided to go for a little cheeky drink at lunchtime on a Saturday. It was one of those bars where the till slip is put in a little glass and you settle up at the end of proceedings.
This doesn't cater for people who are so drunk they can't remember their names, let alone be able to count, or are lying on the floor. Thankfully, the barmaid could count, and relieved our two drunkards of all monies offered.
Wurzel got a text on his duty mobile, (01:30 hrs, Iraq time) 'Tipsy & Mick are in Bermuda and just drank $360 worth of beer'
Tipsy was not the natural first choice as a GE Trainer, but as it wasn't a States trip, none of the proper trainers were interested.
So off went Tipsy & Wurz for a couple of weeks in deepest darkest Africa with the hooligans, but for an end of det treat, they got two nights in Cape Town.
Quite an expensive way of getting your laundry done, eh? Now Tipsy the instructor was all for seeing the sights, but with only one full day on the ground, he thought it might be more useful training to see how much Wurzel could drink.
Informing his student that they were going out to buy a postcard, they set off for refreshments. So they bought a postcard of Table Top Mountain and sat on the pub verandah sipping cool beers, enjoying the view of...erm...Table Top Mountain.
'Ere Wurzel, that cable car hasn't moved much in the last couple of hours' noted the ever observant Tipsy.
They would never know how much they drank that day, they only knew that Tipsy was buying the odds, and Wurz the evens. But all that heat made them quite thirsty.
In the evening the crew walked in complaining that they’d been dangling all day in a broken down cable car.
Tipsy & Mad Mick - Bermuda 2006(?)
Tipsy was all for seeing the sights, but with only one full day on the ground, he thought it might be a more useful exercise to see how much Mick could drink...
Having trailed a couple of medium jets from the Falklands, up through South America, turning right somewhere and ending up in Bermuda...
What happened was, either on the night stop in Panama, or possibly Puerto Rico, the medium jet crew made the foolish error of eating on the ground, something that Ascoteers are trained to avoid.
This slow acting food poisioning took effect in Bermuda. Well it would, wouldn't it. But the Medium Jet pilot was no amateur. Oh no. This was PPRuNer 'Reichman' (RIP) trained by our very own BEagle.
So for extra effect, and to deflect conspiracy theorists, we were all checked out of our rooms and waiting for transport, when Reichman loudly announced that he had shat in his flying suit, there would be a 24 hr delay, and laundry was authorised.
The Ascoteer crew had there laundry in, and their second cash inject, (and the crew had hired mopeds) in double quick time.
With beer in Bermuda at something like the equivalent of £6.00 a pint, Tipsy & Mick had a lazy day followed by a few drinks that night...
Another 24 hr delay, another cash inject - Tipsy & Mick decided to go for a little cheeky drink at lunchtime on a Saturday. It was one of those bars where the till slip is put in a little glass and you settle up at the end of proceedings.
This doesn't cater for people who are so drunk they can't remember their names, let alone be able to count, or are lying on the floor. Thankfully, the barmaid could count, and relieved our two drunkards of all monies offered.
Wurzel got a text on his duty mobile, (01:30 hrs, Iraq time) 'Tipsy & Mick are in Bermuda and just drank $360 worth of beer'
