Apocryphal SWO stories out there.......
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Not a SWO, but a flight sergeant at South Cerney in 1964.
"Mr V*****l, I'm not going to complain that you haven't shaved this morning, because I can tell you have by all the powdered beard on your f*****g shirt collar. GO AND CHANGE IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Mr V*****l, I'm not going to complain that you haven't shaved this morning, because I can tell you have by all the powdered beard on your f*****g shirt collar. GO AND CHANGE IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
SWO at Shawbury, doing an inspection of No 1's prior to the freedom of Market Drayton, walks down a line of aircrew/ATC some of whom had a fairly impressive haul of medals.
He then gets to a PTI, with no medals.
SWO: No medals son?
PTI: No, Sir.
SWO: That's right, my mistake, I forgot you lot have to go to the f****g Olympics to get a medal don't you?
PTI: Yes Sir.
SWO: You can't be any good at running and jumping then.... [walks off]
He then gets to a PTI, with no medals.
SWO: No medals son?
PTI: No, Sir.
SWO: That's right, my mistake, I forgot you lot have to go to the f****g Olympics to get a medal don't you?
PTI: Yes Sir.
SWO: You can't be any good at running and jumping then.... [walks off]
Not a SWO but a Master Driver
OP AGRICOLA (Kosovo, 1999). One of my drivers and a medic got involved in a scrap with some Macedonians and an 'ethnic Armed Group' that held several injured allied personnel (Norwegians), after the field ambulance responded to an RTA.
In a very gutsy move, after loading the injured Norwegians into the FA, the driver hotwired the vehicle (keys having been nicked by local 'police') and rammed several cars mounting an illegal roadblock. A local thug jumped on board the ambulance and proceeded to hold a gun to the driver's head but he managed to get back to our base and wait for the delayed IRT Puma. A major incident was developing but these guys perserved and eventually the Norwegians got to hospital, not before more weapons were brandished and lots of threats were made. (incident heavily abridged for those familiar with it)
I wrote both guys up for their courage, but the first official communication I recevied was from the Master Driver (army WO) at HQ BRITFOR demanding the driver's Charge Sheet for damage to the FA, when escaping from the illegal road block.
Somehow, I forgot to send off that charge sheet to the Master Driver....tosser!.
In a very gutsy move, after loading the injured Norwegians into the FA, the driver hotwired the vehicle (keys having been nicked by local 'police') and rammed several cars mounting an illegal roadblock. A local thug jumped on board the ambulance and proceeded to hold a gun to the driver's head but he managed to get back to our base and wait for the delayed IRT Puma. A major incident was developing but these guys perserved and eventually the Norwegians got to hospital, not before more weapons were brandished and lots of threats were made. (incident heavily abridged for those familiar with it)
I wrote both guys up for their courage, but the first official communication I recevied was from the Master Driver (army WO) at HQ BRITFOR demanding the driver's Charge Sheet for damage to the FA, when escaping from the illegal road block.
Somehow, I forgot to send off that charge sheet to the Master Driver....tosser!.
A SWO-ish story - At B******k in 81 I commanded the GoH. Practice parade for then AOC 11Gp, tall guy, became CDS and got to know an actress. (Is that covered by a super-injunction). Stn Cdr had already annoyed me a tadge by telling me that "In his day GoH Commander was always an Old Cranwellian". "It is now, Sir, I retorted" I was a re-entant, and he clearly had not read my file.
Main parade with Staish in charge on taxiway: I am a couple of hundred yards up in the pan where the AOC's aircraft will arrive on the day. breathless. SWO's runner arrives at the trot and breathless. "Station Commander's compliments Sir. Would you mind moderating your word of command. The main parade is following your orders, not his". Later in the day SWO called in to my office - winked, "Nice one, Sorr" in his Irish lilt.
That night entered bar to a round of applause and a few free beers.
Main parade with Staish in charge on taxiway: I am a couple of hundred yards up in the pan where the AOC's aircraft will arrive on the day. breathless. SWO's runner arrives at the trot and breathless. "Station Commander's compliments Sir. Would you mind moderating your word of command. The main parade is following your orders, not his". Later in the day SWO called in to my office - winked, "Nice one, Sorr" in his Irish lilt.
That night entered bar to a round of applause and a few free beers.
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At Halton in around '85, a wannabe SWO (discip Cpl previously Cpl SWO at a small comms unit somewhere) newly arrived stood in front of his apprentice entry for the first time. Trying to sound hard and SWO-like in front of the boys, he announced "I am a w****r, and a w****r is what I am". Cue 80 odd appos collapsed in laughter. He didn't last long!
About 18 months later after his transfer to the other side of the parade square, I had just graduated as a JT. "You're looking very proud of yourself today son" said the wannabe. "I am Cpl" replied I, " and now I'm earning considerably more than you!" Not to be outdone, the w****r wannabe replied "Ah yes you are, but I am living in a substandard married quarter for which I pay very little, so there!" Logic?????
God bless Cpl Hylton Foster, wherever you are now!
About 18 months later after his transfer to the other side of the parade square, I had just graduated as a JT. "You're looking very proud of yourself today son" said the wannabe. "I am Cpl" replied I, " and now I'm earning considerably more than you!" Not to be outdone, the w****r wannabe replied "Ah yes you are, but I am living in a substandard married quarter for which I pay very little, so there!" Logic?????
God bless Cpl Hylton Foster, wherever you are now!
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I'm not afraid of the SWO (well maybe a little) #2
During the early '80s, I had the pleasure of attending the School of Education Training Support (SOETS) at Newton for several courses. At the time, the SWO was a chap whose name was another term for a vacation. This charmer had had a totally successful personality by-pass operation, and had been fired from the SS for cruelty in a previous incarnation. His lady wife was also not above rollicking the troops, she having studied the art closely under the wing of Himself. As you can imagine, study sojourns amongst the Dreaming Spires of Newton were, therefore, a delight.
The quadruple-daily trek between the Sgt's Mess (Halls of Residence) & SOETS provided a useful refresher for student groups to sharpen their tactical bounding techniques in order to avoid the attentions of the SWO, who had clearly lived with the Lakota Sioux in order to absorb their tracking & ambush skills. However, one morning he simply appeared before me, as if by some teleporter device. As I observed the other chaps make a break for freedom, I knew I must Take One for The Team. Having enquired about my origins, wellbeing & happiness, the SWO became transfixed by the (non-issue) blue woolen scarf that I was wearing, & asked where he could obtain same. I advised him that Mrs HB would be happy to knit him one if he popped a couple of balls of wool in the mail. There then followed an emotional one-way discourse on the subject of wearing non-issue items. During this most unfortunate episode, I felt it prudent to keep my hands clasped behind my back, as I was sporting a rather nice pair of brown suede gloves from a charity shop (always a natty dresser).
One morning, I witnessed the SWO greeting the Chief Tech-Pipe Major of the Kinloss Pipe Band, who had arrived for a SOETS course. The Pipe Major (a large Scot) was blessed with a moustache of truly Biblical proportions, in keeping with his secondary role of frightening sundry sassenachs. The SWO demanded a reduction in the scale of this prodigious growth; the Pipe Major declined. However, after a flurry of 'phone calls at Senior Officer level between Kinloss & Newton, a much-shorn Pipe Major Lite appeared at breakfast next morn. SWO 1 - Moustache 0.
I always regret not getting to know this chap & his wife socially.........
HB
The quadruple-daily trek between the Sgt's Mess (Halls of Residence) & SOETS provided a useful refresher for student groups to sharpen their tactical bounding techniques in order to avoid the attentions of the SWO, who had clearly lived with the Lakota Sioux in order to absorb their tracking & ambush skills. However, one morning he simply appeared before me, as if by some teleporter device. As I observed the other chaps make a break for freedom, I knew I must Take One for The Team. Having enquired about my origins, wellbeing & happiness, the SWO became transfixed by the (non-issue) blue woolen scarf that I was wearing, & asked where he could obtain same. I advised him that Mrs HB would be happy to knit him one if he popped a couple of balls of wool in the mail. There then followed an emotional one-way discourse on the subject of wearing non-issue items. During this most unfortunate episode, I felt it prudent to keep my hands clasped behind my back, as I was sporting a rather nice pair of brown suede gloves from a charity shop (always a natty dresser).
One morning, I witnessed the SWO greeting the Chief Tech-Pipe Major of the Kinloss Pipe Band, who had arrived for a SOETS course. The Pipe Major (a large Scot) was blessed with a moustache of truly Biblical proportions, in keeping with his secondary role of frightening sundry sassenachs. The SWO demanded a reduction in the scale of this prodigious growth; the Pipe Major declined. However, after a flurry of 'phone calls at Senior Officer level between Kinloss & Newton, a much-shorn Pipe Major Lite appeared at breakfast next morn. SWO 1 - Moustache 0.
I always regret not getting to know this chap & his wife socially.........
HB
Last edited by Halton Brat; 24th May 2011 at 08:27.
Waddington, late 90s, CO's inspection gate-crashes a class in the Sentry Maintenance School. SWO (WO Dave R***n, top man) spies very young LAC Hardly-Shaving earnestly soaking up Sentry groundschool stuff...
SWO (in quiet and friendly mode): Enjoying it, lad?
LAC: Oh yes, Sir.
SWO: Looking after you OK are they? Plenty of coffee breaks and so on?
LAC: Yes Sir, it's pretty good...
SWO: What time do you get for lunch?
LAC: 12 til one Sir...
SWO: So where will you be at 1245?
LAC (looking confused): Er, having my lunch Sir...
SWO (selecting full parade volume): No you f****ng won't! You'll be in my f****ng office in properly pressed trousers, and I want to see your shoes with some f****ng polish on them!! AND, lad, if you're still wearing those grey socks, you'll be back every lunchtime until Christmas...!!!
SWO (in quiet and friendly mode): Enjoying it, lad?
LAC: Oh yes, Sir.
SWO: Looking after you OK are they? Plenty of coffee breaks and so on?
LAC: Yes Sir, it's pretty good...
SWO: What time do you get for lunch?
LAC: 12 til one Sir...
SWO: So where will you be at 1245?
LAC (looking confused): Er, having my lunch Sir...
SWO (selecting full parade volume): No you f****ng won't! You'll be in my f****ng office in properly pressed trousers, and I want to see your shoes with some f****ng polish on them!! AND, lad, if you're still wearing those grey socks, you'll be back every lunchtime until Christmas...!!!
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RAF Wahn circa '56. A 3 tonner carrying airmen in the back, overturned on it's way to the mess. A dozen or so guys are lying on the grass verge waiting for ambulances. The SWO is there directing operations when he notices that several of the injured are wearing civvy socks. ''Corporal'' he yells to one of the SP's, ''take the name of all airmen who're improperly dressed.''
Not a SWO but a drill instructor,
Apologies for being a drill instructor and not a SWO story. But I’ll tell it anyway. Arriving at Newark and boarding the bus for the drive to Swinderby to start basic recruit training mid 70's. Lots of nervous young recruits load baggage and climb onto bus. Slowly the recruits start a conversation and somebody offers somebody a cigarette (remember when you could smoke on the bus?) The evil eyed short and nasty looking Drill Instructor slowly gets to his feet and screams out “I don’t remember telling anybody they could effing well smoke on my bus”. All the cigarettes are immediately extinguished and a silence descends over the bus. Drill instructor gives a sly smile and then declares “now you may smoke” and then sat down.
Later during recruit training came the big day when we were allowed to go into Lincoln. Everybody is poncing themselves up with aftershave and such. Dressed immaculately in No 1 Uniform and awaiting inspection to see if we were smart enough to be released, in walks the same evil eyed drill instructor. “It smells like a French Brothel in here” he declared. “And how would you know that Corporal” I asked. Titters all over billet. He marches over to me. Stands one inch from me and spits out “Because I was Fxxxxng born in one Laddie”.
“It smells like a French Brothel in here” he declared. “And how would you know that Corporal” I asked. Titters all over billet. He marches over to me. Stands one inch from me and spits out “Because I was Fxxxxng born in one Laddie”.
Maybe the DI and the Squadron Leader at Post 4 in http://www.pprune.org/jet-blast/11952-barber.html were related!
Jack
Maybe the DI and the Squadron Leader at Post 4 in http://www.pprune.org/jet-blast/11952-barber.html were related!
Jack
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WO Dave R###n.
Did not happen to be an SE Fitt by trade and an ex Swinderby DS per chance ?
Pretty sure I am correct, was a good guy but did truely scare the crap out of me during my 6 weeks of hell there.
Did not happen to be an SE Fitt by trade and an ex Swinderby DS per chance ?
Pretty sure I am correct, was a good guy but did truely scare the crap out of me during my 6 weeks of hell there.
Odiham early 60s
I cant remember his name but the one SWO I remember with distaste
had a nasty way of getting recruits for his SWO's army.
Anyone coming off leave was seconded the next working day into the SWOs army of erks.
I was in a Technical section short of bods so restrictions on taking "Leave", BUT you still had to join up for the first day back after "Leave".
It still grips me to this day feeling the humiliation of having to sweep the gutters of the main Camp roads on one occasion.
The only real "funny at the time" situation with a SWO was in the late Fifties at RAF Bawdsey.
Camp was in the wooded grounds of Bawdsey manor, some trees had been indentified for "Felling" marked with white paint .
Overnight someone got some white paint and marked the majority of the remaining healthy trees.
The SWO went ballistic, try as he could no one owned up.
If I remember it, all the trees were saved.
OPF
had a nasty way of getting recruits for his SWO's army.
Anyone coming off leave was seconded the next working day into the SWOs army of erks.
I was in a Technical section short of bods so restrictions on taking "Leave", BUT you still had to join up for the first day back after "Leave".
It still grips me to this day feeling the humiliation of having to sweep the gutters of the main Camp roads on one occasion.
The only real "funny at the time" situation with a SWO was in the late Fifties at RAF Bawdsey.
Camp was in the wooded grounds of Bawdsey manor, some trees had been indentified for "Felling" marked with white paint .
Overnight someone got some white paint and marked the majority of the remaining healthy trees.
The SWO went ballistic, try as he could no one owned up.
If I remember it, all the trees were saved.
OPF
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Arriving at RAF L.....s
Mid 1970's I arrived at a large RAF station in Scotland, as a newly promoted Flying Officer. Collected blue arrival chit from SHQ and proceeded to visit the many offices and sections around the camp for the essential arrival signatures. Eventually reached the SWO's office and knocked on the door, entered and tripped over the carpet. SWO looks up and sees young Flying Officer on his knees in front of his desk, holding up a blue arrival chit. SWO looked at me and said "You know sir, I think you and I are going to get on rather well.
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4 TTS St. Athan late 50's, winter, about 1500 boy entrants on parade awaiting pre-AOC's inspection.
Sgt DI notices a boy in the rear rank in front of him is wearing only one glove.
Not wishing to cop the flak which would come his way if it was noticed by the inspecting officer, without moving his feet he leaned forward to a near impossible angle and growled in the boy entrants ear, "faint boy".
Lad whispered back "but I'm alright sergeant".
"Faint when you are f******well told to, and you two on either side of him, carry him off".
Sgt DI notices a boy in the rear rank in front of him is wearing only one glove.
Not wishing to cop the flak which would come his way if it was noticed by the inspecting officer, without moving his feet he leaned forward to a near impossible angle and growled in the boy entrants ear, "faint boy".
Lad whispered back "but I'm alright sergeant".
"Faint when you are f******well told to, and you two on either side of him, carry him off".
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Not a SWO story but a discip Cpl who I am sure one day made it to that exalted position. At a station with a small RAF jail the said Cpl was marching a squad of offenders to a work area. Whilst passing an officer he ordered eyes right but then realised that the officer was on the squads left. A smart salute in the correct direction was accompanied by “not good enough to set eyes on an officer, Sir”
Last edited by WarmandDry; 23rd May 2011 at 22:26. Reason: spelling
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RAAF WOD same as SWO
"Dangerous Doug" RAAF Wagga WOD early 70's.
He had a bad habit of leaping out of his married quarter which was located beside the main road to the guard room. This allowed him to chase down those nasty apprentices and trainees who weren't marching to Doug's high standards. Only problem, its 6am and Doug is still in in his PJ's when they were spotted by this eagle eyed hunter,so there he was in full flight in his PJ's running full pelt through the dewy grass giving the apprentices the full spray. Talk about scarring for life.
He had a bad habit of leaping out of his married quarter which was located beside the main road to the guard room. This allowed him to chase down those nasty apprentices and trainees who weren't marching to Doug's high standards. Only problem, its 6am and Doug is still in in his PJ's when they were spotted by this eagle eyed hunter,so there he was in full flight in his PJ's running full pelt through the dewy grass giving the apprentices the full spray. Talk about scarring for life.
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Reminds me of the time, when as a LAC we had a new WOD posted in. In our airforce was the same as a SWO.
Very British by older gentlemen with both WW1 and WW2 medals. His hat old as it was, was better than my three year old one. Patent leather brim with green material on the underneath. Must have gone back to the thirties.
Me thinking would not be a good idea to get off side with him brought up the subject of vintage cars which he owned one. We had a interesting conversation on the problem he was having problems with, agreed that I could come round to his married patch and look closer.
Mrs Hayes ever the english lady made tea and scones and then we looked at and resolved the chain drive problem.
I was just about to leave when I said I believe Sir that you used to be in the Indian army. His dignified replay reply showed his true mettle.
Never laddie was I in the Indian army, but I was in the British army and stationed in India.
I never forgot the important of saying the correct thing, rather than just pushing words out.
The last of our veteran WOD's but he ran the depot like it was his own, which I suppose it really was.
Rest in peace WO Hayes you taught me much about dignity
Regards
Col
Very British by older gentlemen with both WW1 and WW2 medals. His hat old as it was, was better than my three year old one. Patent leather brim with green material on the underneath. Must have gone back to the thirties.
Me thinking would not be a good idea to get off side with him brought up the subject of vintage cars which he owned one. We had a interesting conversation on the problem he was having problems with, agreed that I could come round to his married patch and look closer.
Mrs Hayes ever the english lady made tea and scones and then we looked at and resolved the chain drive problem.
I was just about to leave when I said I believe Sir that you used to be in the Indian army. His dignified replay reply showed his true mettle.
Never laddie was I in the Indian army, but I was in the British army and stationed in India.
I never forgot the important of saying the correct thing, rather than just pushing words out.
The last of our veteran WOD's but he ran the depot like it was his own, which I suppose it really was.
Rest in peace WO Hayes you taught me much about dignity
Regards
Col
As S/J NCOs of a GD/Guardroom back ground are being included, I feel I can comfortably regale one and all of a story involving SNCO i/c Guardroom at R.A.F. Boulmer in 1978/79. Sergeant R.M. Smith, a sandy haired (with rather tight and severe trim) stocky Scotsman (think Taggert with thick lens specs) with ruddish complexion and shouty intemperate manner, he had the lot. Furthermore, drill and unforgiving enforcement of QRs was not so much his preoccupation as his hobby. On one occasion I had been detailed, along with others, to form the GoH for a young airman who had been killed in a car accident. Smithy was to be the our Drill Instructor, surprise surprise, for the 3 or 4 days rehearsals, including the day of the funeral.
One young lad from the General Office, who I just remember being called Larry, seemed to be constantly attracting Smithy's attention, no matter what, there was always something, which started out as banter and got to the point where the good Sarge was ready to commit murder, hari kari or both. On the dress rehearsal at the end of the day on the eve of the funeral, he told us that we were going to go through the entire process, start to finish, and we had better pray to God for our own sakes that it was a faultless run through. So it was, apart from the command to fix Bayonets; "Fix... Bayonets" then clank as Larry's flew off the end of his SLR muzzle and struck terra firma. Silence reigned and Larry awaiting a dreadful explosion, realised it wasn't forthcoming so gingerly stooped to pick up his Bayonet and fit it properly. Everything carried on, again faultlessly. At the end, Smithy heaped praise on one and all and without pausing for breath... "Larry, see if you dae that in church the morrow I'll grab that rifle aff ye, jam the barrel up yer backside and squeeze the trigger!!
FB
One young lad from the General Office, who I just remember being called Larry, seemed to be constantly attracting Smithy's attention, no matter what, there was always something, which started out as banter and got to the point where the good Sarge was ready to commit murder, hari kari or both. On the dress rehearsal at the end of the day on the eve of the funeral, he told us that we were going to go through the entire process, start to finish, and we had better pray to God for our own sakes that it was a faultless run through. So it was, apart from the command to fix Bayonets; "Fix... Bayonets" then clank as Larry's flew off the end of his SLR muzzle and struck terra firma. Silence reigned and Larry awaiting a dreadful explosion, realised it wasn't forthcoming so gingerly stooped to pick up his Bayonet and fit it properly. Everything carried on, again faultlessly. At the end, Smithy heaped praise on one and all and without pausing for breath... "Larry, see if you dae that in church the morrow I'll grab that rifle aff ye, jam the barrel up yer backside and squeeze the trigger!!
FB