On a lighter note - 'Flying Songs'
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That song is definitely doable. We need the melodies in each case as failing that, they're just poems.
Marvellous OD, I was living at RAF Tengah (dad was the SWO) during the whole of Confrontation.
There was a huge intinerant population there including 3 RAAF Sabres which came to reinforce the fighter protection - all 3 aquaplaned on the runway, two into the barrier and one into a monsoon drain.
A great help indeed as it happened on a Sunday and most of the station was called out to rescue the 'reinforcements'. Happy days
Marvellous OD, I was living at RAF Tengah (dad was the SWO) during the whole of Confrontation.
There was a huge intinerant population there including 3 RAAF Sabres which came to reinforce the fighter protection - all 3 aquaplaned on the runway, two into the barrier and one into a monsoon drain.
A great help indeed as it happened on a Sunday and most of the station was called out to rescue the 'reinforcements'. Happy days
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They are all here:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Buccaneer-S...6539882&sr=8-1
And more besides those invented on the Buccaneer too!
Foldie
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Buccaneer-S...6539882&sr=8-1
And more besides those invented on the Buccaneer too!
Foldie
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The Unkindest Defence Cut of All
I’m the last man in the Air Force
I’ve an office in MOD
And a copy of Queen’s regulations
Which only apply to me
I can post myself to Leuchars
And detach me from there to Kinloss
Or send me on courses to Drayton
Then cancel the lot – I’m the boss
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
I suppose you imagine it’s great
To be master of all you survey, but
I tell you it’s difficult, mate
I inspected three units last Thursday
As CinC acting of Strike,
Then I cleaned out the bogs at Brize Norton
And repaired Saxa Vord’s station bike
I’m the last man left in the Air Force,
My wife says I’m never at home,
When I’m not flying kites, I’m at Manston,
Laying gallons and gallons of foam
Or I’m on my marine craft off Plymouth
Shooting flares at the crowd on the Hoe
Or I’m Orderly Corporal at Luqa,
It’s an interesting life but all go
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
I’m ADC to the Queen
I’m the duty clerk at St Mawgan,
I’m the RAF rugby team
Tomorrow I’m painting the Guardroom
And air testing several planes,
The day after that I’m in London
To preach at St Clement Danes
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
And I’m due to go out before long
There’s been no talk of any replacement
And I won’t even let me sign on
I hope to enjoy my retirement
I’ve put up a fairly good show,
But I won’t cut myself off entirely,
There’s always reunions, you know
Looks like he made a few more cuts too!
I’m the last man in the Air Force
I’ve an office in MOD
And a copy of Queen’s regulations
Which only apply to me
I can post myself to Leuchars
And detach me from there to Kinloss
Or send me on courses to Drayton
Then cancel the lot – I’m the boss
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
I suppose you imagine it’s great
To be master of all you survey, but
I tell you it’s difficult, mate
I inspected three units last Thursday
As CinC acting of Strike,
Then I cleaned out the bogs at Brize Norton
And repaired Saxa Vord’s station bike
I’m the last man left in the Air Force,
My wife says I’m never at home,
When I’m not flying kites, I’m at Manston,
Laying gallons and gallons of foam
Or I’m on my marine craft off Plymouth
Shooting flares at the crowd on the Hoe
Or I’m Orderly Corporal at Luqa,
It’s an interesting life but all go
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
I’m ADC to the Queen
I’m the duty clerk at St Mawgan,
I’m the RAF rugby team
Tomorrow I’m painting the Guardroom
And air testing several planes,
The day after that I’m in London
To preach at St Clement Danes
I’m the last man left in the Air Force
And I’m due to go out before long
There’s been no talk of any replacement
And I won’t even let me sign on
I hope to enjoy my retirement
I’ve put up a fairly good show,
But I won’t cut myself off entirely,
There’s always reunions, you know
Looks like he made a few more cuts too!
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Here is one from the USAAF, circa 1946 I believe...
The Air Corps Lament
(Tune: Battle Hymn of the Republic)
Mine eyes have seen the days of men who ruled the fighting sky
With hearts that laughed at death and lived for nothing but to fly
But now those hearts are grounded and those days are long gone
The force is shot to hell!
CHORUS: Glory...flying regulations, Have them read at every station, Crucify the man who breaks one, The force is shot to hell!
My bones have felt their pounding throb, a hundred thousand strong
A mighty airborne legion sent to right the deadly wrong
But now it's only memory, it only lives in song
The force is shot to hell!
I have seen them in the T-bolts when their eyes were dancing flame
I've seen their screaming power dives that blasted Goering's name
But now they fly like sissies and they hang their heads in shame
Their spirit's shot to hell!
They flew B-26's through a living hell of flak
And bloody, dying pilots gave their lives to bring them back
But now they all play ping pong in the operations shack
Their technique's gone to hell!
Yes, the lordly Flying Fortress and the Liberator too
Once wrote the doom of Germany with contrails in the blue
But now the skies are empty and our planes are wet with dew
And we can't fly for hell!
One day I buzzed an airfield with another happy chap
We flew a hot formation with his wingtip in my lap
But there's a new directive and we'll have no more of that
Or you both will burn in hell!
Hap Arnold built a fighting team that sang a fighting song
About the wild blue yonder in the days when men were strong
But now we're closely supervised for fear we may do wrong
The force is shot to hell!
FINAL CHORUS: Glory! No more regulations! Rip them down at every station! Ground the guy that tries to make one! AND LET US FLY LIKE HELL!
Bob C
The Air Corps Lament
(Tune: Battle Hymn of the Republic)
Mine eyes have seen the days of men who ruled the fighting sky
With hearts that laughed at death and lived for nothing but to fly
But now those hearts are grounded and those days are long gone
The force is shot to hell!
CHORUS: Glory...flying regulations, Have them read at every station, Crucify the man who breaks one, The force is shot to hell!
My bones have felt their pounding throb, a hundred thousand strong
A mighty airborne legion sent to right the deadly wrong
But now it's only memory, it only lives in song
The force is shot to hell!
I have seen them in the T-bolts when their eyes were dancing flame
I've seen their screaming power dives that blasted Goering's name
But now they fly like sissies and they hang their heads in shame
Their spirit's shot to hell!
They flew B-26's through a living hell of flak
And bloody, dying pilots gave their lives to bring them back
But now they all play ping pong in the operations shack
Their technique's gone to hell!
Yes, the lordly Flying Fortress and the Liberator too
Once wrote the doom of Germany with contrails in the blue
But now the skies are empty and our planes are wet with dew
And we can't fly for hell!
One day I buzzed an airfield with another happy chap
We flew a hot formation with his wingtip in my lap
But there's a new directive and we'll have no more of that
Or you both will burn in hell!
Hap Arnold built a fighting team that sang a fighting song
About the wild blue yonder in the days when men were strong
But now we're closely supervised for fear we may do wrong
The force is shot to hell!
FINAL CHORUS: Glory! No more regulations! Rip them down at every station! Ground the guy that tries to make one! AND LET US FLY LIKE HELL!
Bob C
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SOMF - Songs of the Maritime Force (or Sit on my Face?)
A Couple of lesser known Maritime Favorites.
We are the Search and Rescue,
No Bl**dy good are we,
We Fly our clapped out Nimrods,
Around the Irish Sea.
But if we sight your dinghy.
We'll shout with all our might.
Row to the shore you Bast**rds!
F**k you jack, we're all right!!
AND
Roaring down the runway
Throttles open wide
See the mighty Shackleton
Sway from side to side
Airborne again
Without a blip
It's just one more abortive trip!
But we're pressing on regardless
For the Wingco's AFC
Out here in MAJUNGA
Happy as can be
The First Navs found a Nympho
But he won't share her with me!
Airborne again
Je ne sais quoi!
It's just one more goddam Misar
But we're pressing on regardless
For the Wingco's AFC
Does anyone have a copy of the 42 Sqn Song Book - SOMF? I foolishly lent mine to someone and never got it back. I have happy memories of loud raucous sing songs before the PC brigade spoiled everything!!
We are the Search and Rescue,
No Bl**dy good are we,
We Fly our clapped out Nimrods,
Around the Irish Sea.
But if we sight your dinghy.
We'll shout with all our might.
Row to the shore you Bast**rds!
F**k you jack, we're all right!!
AND
Roaring down the runway
Throttles open wide
See the mighty Shackleton
Sway from side to side
Airborne again
Without a blip
It's just one more abortive trip!
But we're pressing on regardless
For the Wingco's AFC
Out here in MAJUNGA
Happy as can be
The First Navs found a Nympho
But he won't share her with me!
Airborne again
Je ne sais quoi!
It's just one more goddam Misar
But we're pressing on regardless
For the Wingco's AFC
Does anyone have a copy of the 42 Sqn Song Book - SOMF? I foolishly lent mine to someone and never got it back. I have happy memories of loud raucous sing songs before the PC brigade spoiled everything!!
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before the PC brigade spoiled everything!!
That's why songs like these are good news, they bypass being PC, good sense and good for promotion too. Do you remember 'promotion' it was a phenomenon whereas people changed ranks when the people above moved on or left.
Since there's only one person left in the air force (see above) it's all irrelevant
Sung to the tune of "My Bonny lies over the ocean"
One night as I lay on my pillow, my Batman upwoke me and said
I say there are ships in the channel, but there's bags of black cloud overhead!
Chorus
Bring Back oh bring back, oh bring back my Bomber and me and me
Bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me.
So I climbed in my old trusty bomber, and took off with ships on my mind
and I searched the whole of the channel, but not damn ship could I find
Bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me and me.
bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me
So I turned round and headed for England and turned my thoughts back to my bed.
The controller said how can you miss them and I leave you to guess what I said.
Bring back oh bring back etc etc
Can't remember a couple of the complete verses so I've improvised just a tad.
FB
One night as I lay on my pillow, my Batman upwoke me and said
I say there are ships in the channel, but there's bags of black cloud overhead!
Chorus
Bring Back oh bring back, oh bring back my Bomber and me and me
Bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me.
So I climbed in my old trusty bomber, and took off with ships on my mind
and I searched the whole of the channel, but not damn ship could I find
Bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me and me.
bring back oh bring back, oh bring back my bomber and me
So I turned round and headed for England and turned my thoughts back to my bed.
The controller said how can you miss them and I leave you to guess what I said.
Bring back oh bring back etc etc
Can't remember a couple of the complete verses so I've improvised just a tad.
FB
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The liquor was spilt on the bar room floor,
And the Mess was closed for the night,
When out of his hole came a little brown mouse,
And sat in the pale moonlight.
He licked up the liquor from the bar room floor,
And back on his haunches he sat,
And all night long you could here him roar,
BRING ON THE BLOODY CAT!
Bob C
And the Mess was closed for the night,
When out of his hole came a little brown mouse,
And sat in the pale moonlight.
He licked up the liquor from the bar room floor,
And back on his haunches he sat,
And all night long you could here him roar,
BRING ON THE BLOODY CAT!
Bob C
A copy of the Buccaneer Song Book turned up yesterday, on a raft from South America.
It's not just songs but a mine of interesting info and photos.
Ten quid well spent!
Old Duffer
It's not just songs but a mine of interesting info and photos.
Ten quid well spent!
Old Duffer
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I count a certain ginger haired Master Eng on 47Sqn's rendition of 'A long strong black sausage up your sister's cat's arsehole twice nightly' as one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life....
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Sixty years ago some of the QFIs who had flown Lancs used to sing a song based on "Old King Cole" which went something like this. Sorry but can't remember all of it.
Our wingco was a merry old soul, a merry old soul was he
He called for his kites in the middle of the night and he called for his pilots three
Every pilot was a fine type, a very fine type was he. There's none so fair as can compare with the boys of ??????
"We don't give two fu**s" said the pilots-
(repeat Our wingco etc) called for his navigators
"fifteen miles off track" said the navigators
Called for his engineers
"we've got ten pounds boost"said the engineers
Called for his bomb-aimers
"left, left, steady dummy run" said the bomb-aimers
Called for his signallers
"dah diddy dah diddy dah" went the signallers
Called for his tail gunners
"corkscrew corkscrew left" said the tailgunners
There was a mid upper gunner too but I can't remember what he did.
Perhaps somebody can fill in the blanks.
Our wingco was a merry old soul, a merry old soul was he
He called for his kites in the middle of the night and he called for his pilots three
Every pilot was a fine type, a very fine type was he. There's none so fair as can compare with the boys of ??????
"We don't give two fu**s" said the pilots-
(repeat Our wingco etc) called for his navigators
"fifteen miles off track" said the navigators
Called for his engineers
"we've got ten pounds boost"said the engineers
Called for his bomb-aimers
"left, left, steady dummy run" said the bomb-aimers
Called for his signallers
"dah diddy dah diddy dah" went the signallers
Called for his tail gunners
"corkscrew corkscrew left" said the tailgunners
There was a mid upper gunner too but I can't remember what he did.
Perhaps somebody can fill in the blanks.
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A copy of the Buccaneer Song Book turned up yesterday, on a raft from South America.
It's not just songs but a mine of interesting info and photos.
Ten quid well spent!
It's not just songs but a mine of interesting info and photos.
Ten quid well spent!
Foldie
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I've just looked through all the links to other threads and I'm surprised this one hasn't appeared.....
Nimrod Song (as sung by many a liney in the Hilton!)
Hey there Nimrod groundcrew,
we've got a song, a song to sing to.
Hey there Nimrod aircrew,
we're gonna sing this song about you!
CHORUS
Go left go left (go left go left),
Go left right left (go left right left)
Go left go right go pick up the step,
go left go right go le-e-eft.
Hey there pilot man.
fly this plane as smooth as you can
If it's rough when you're up front,
we'll be sick and call you a c*nt!
CHORUS
Hey there engineer,
tell us what we want to hear.
If you come back and say it's ****...
you'll come back and you'll fix it!
CHORUS
Hey there navigator,
just a failed aviator.
IN's down, SEC1 SEC2,
what the **** you gonna do?
CHORUS
Hey there AEO,
kermit from the muppet show.
He's in charge of all the siggy's,
animals and little piggy's!
CHORUS
Hey there siggy boy,
mars bars and tonka toys.
You can ram it up your bum,
'cos you are only nimrod scum
CHORUS.
There may have been other verses, but the memory was distorted by alcohol. They used to serve two types of alcohol in the Hilton, circa 1985, Yellow or Brown!!!! Happy days.
Nimrod Song (as sung by many a liney in the Hilton!)
Hey there Nimrod groundcrew,
we've got a song, a song to sing to.
Hey there Nimrod aircrew,
we're gonna sing this song about you!
CHORUS
Go left go left (go left go left),
Go left right left (go left right left)
Go left go right go pick up the step,
go left go right go le-e-eft.
Hey there pilot man.
fly this plane as smooth as you can
If it's rough when you're up front,
we'll be sick and call you a c*nt!
CHORUS
Hey there engineer,
tell us what we want to hear.
If you come back and say it's ****...
you'll come back and you'll fix it!
CHORUS
Hey there navigator,
just a failed aviator.
IN's down, SEC1 SEC2,
what the **** you gonna do?
CHORUS
Hey there AEO,
kermit from the muppet show.
He's in charge of all the siggy's,
animals and little piggy's!
CHORUS
Hey there siggy boy,
mars bars and tonka toys.
You can ram it up your bum,
'cos you are only nimrod scum
CHORUS.
There may have been other verses, but the memory was distorted by alcohol. They used to serve two types of alcohol in the Hilton, circa 1985, Yellow or Brown!!!! Happy days.
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In the early 70s, an ex-heavy AEO joined the SH fleet, and brought with him a song. Not about flying but about extracarricular activity. I think it went:-
My Rhubarb refuses to rise,
To its natural size, market gardening prize.
I eat spinach all the day long,
Hoping, praying that it will make me big and strong,
Coz my rhubard refuses to rise,
And my baby don't love me, my baby don't love me,
My baby don't love me no mo-o-ore.
Someone make my rhubarb rise, rhubarb rise'
Barb barb a rab ab'
BARB RISE
More of a chant than a song until near to the end.
My Rhubarb refuses to rise,
To its natural size, market gardening prize.
I eat spinach all the day long,
Hoping, praying that it will make me big and strong,
Coz my rhubard refuses to rise,
And my baby don't love me, my baby don't love me,
My baby don't love me no mo-o-ore.
Someone make my rhubarb rise, rhubarb rise'
Barb barb a rab ab'
BARB RISE
More of a chant than a song until near to the end.
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In the early 70s, an ex-heavy AEO joined the SH fleet, and brought with him a song. Not about flying but about extracurricular activity. I think it went:-
My Rhubarb refuses to rise,
To its natural size, market gardening prize.
I eat spinach all the day long,
Hoping, praying that it will make me big and strong,
Coz my rhubard refuses to rise,
And my baby don't love me, my baby don't love me,
My baby don't love me no mo-o-ore.
Someone make my rhubarb rise, rhubarb rise'
Barb barb a rab ab'
BARB RISE
More of a chant than a song until near to the end.
My Rhubarb refuses to rise,
To its natural size, market gardening prize.
I eat spinach all the day long,
Hoping, praying that it will make me big and strong,
Coz my rhubard refuses to rise,
And my baby don't love me, my baby don't love me,
My baby don't love me no mo-o-ore.
Someone make my rhubarb rise, rhubarb rise'
Barb barb a rab ab'
BARB RISE
More of a chant than a song until near to the end.
