I Wish I Hadn't Said That ...
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Droptanks comment on the helicopter hold reminded me of the GCA into Culdrose when, feeling a bit bored after a 4 hour dunkex ( and probably overconfident with a shiny new Master Green) we gradully slowed down and reversed track back up the glideslope. Took chummy in the GCA cab about 1.5 track miles to work it out, but the patter kept us straight 
Never heard another word after landing, probably too embarrased!
Never heard another word after landing, probably too embarrased!
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Story from days of BFTS:
My course mate and I were due to fly in a 3-ship formation sortie in the Tin-can. Part of this involved a three-way tailchase. I was number 2 and my friend was number 3.
In the middle of the tailchase the lead entered a loop. I followed him up, chased by number three who pulled a bit too hard, got inside the loop and lost visual with us both. The instructor took control as he mouthed a few choice swear words at my pal.
Back on the ground came the humiliating debrief. In true instructor fashion they tried to 'elicit' the lesson from today's sortie.
Instructor "So, John, where were you when we pulled up in to the loop during the tailchase?"
John "I was number three."
Instructor "And what did you do?"
John "I pulled too hard and went under number 2."
Instructor "So if you were underneath him, how could you see him?"
John (With Top Gun hands) " Because I was inverted!"
Which, despite being a superbly timed oneliner, got him a hat's on with the Sqn Boss and loss of solo flying cat for attitude!!
My course mate and I were due to fly in a 3-ship formation sortie in the Tin-can. Part of this involved a three-way tailchase. I was number 2 and my friend was number 3.
In the middle of the tailchase the lead entered a loop. I followed him up, chased by number three who pulled a bit too hard, got inside the loop and lost visual with us both. The instructor took control as he mouthed a few choice swear words at my pal.
Back on the ground came the humiliating debrief. In true instructor fashion they tried to 'elicit' the lesson from today's sortie.
Instructor "So, John, where were you when we pulled up in to the loop during the tailchase?"
John "I was number three."
Instructor "And what did you do?"
John "I pulled too hard and went under number 2."
Instructor "So if you were underneath him, how could you see him?"
John (With Top Gun hands) " Because I was inverted!"
Which, despite being a superbly timed oneliner, got him a hat's on with the Sqn Boss and loss of solo flying cat for attitude!!
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Back before i was an intrepid aviator i had to spend one year at that delightful place, Sandhurst. In my first term we had a Captain from the Aussie Infantry. He decided to brief us on the upcoming exercise to sunny Sennybridge which as usual involved marching with bloody heavy loads over vasts distances. When he came to describe it, it went something like this " Men i have done some bloody hard exercises in my time but this will hurt like buggery, and believe you me i know !! " At which point whole platoon is crying with laughter on the floor!!
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A story I don't think has been posted is one told by one of our instructors.
Going back a few years now the USAF had developed a new stronger canopy which was supposed to be able to withstand a birdstrike at about 400kts. There was a big publicity stunt with the President coming to witness a test of this new canopy and of course all of the media were in tow. However they ran out of chickens to fire at the canopy and so one of the under deputies was sent to get some for this demonstration. With all the cameras trained on this stunt the President is given all the usual spiel then bang the chicken is fired at the canopy where it promptly goes straight through it, through the back of the cockpit and out through the side of the hangar.
A very red faced under deputy is then informed that frozen chickens from Walmart can't fly...
Going back a few years now the USAF had developed a new stronger canopy which was supposed to be able to withstand a birdstrike at about 400kts. There was a big publicity stunt with the President coming to witness a test of this new canopy and of course all of the media were in tow. However they ran out of chickens to fire at the canopy and so one of the under deputies was sent to get some for this demonstration. With all the cameras trained on this stunt the President is given all the usual spiel then bang the chicken is fired at the canopy where it promptly goes straight through it, through the back of the cockpit and out through the side of the hangar.
A very red faced under deputy is then informed that frozen chickens from Walmart can't fly...
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IOT course studying GSPs - this particular lesson being on guard duty. All cadets have dutifully been practising what to say in various instances as per lesson beforehand.
F/S: The vehicle drives up to the barrier. The driver does not have any ID. What do you say?
Anon. Stude: Take a day!
(It was funny at the time).
F/S: The vehicle drives up to the barrier. The driver does not have any ID. What do you say?
Anon. Stude: Take a day!
(It was funny at the time).
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Tolerant university girlfriend listened dutifully to tales of UAS student visit to RAF Chivenor as was, and flight in back of Hawk, with its ejector seat.
Not long thereafter; holiday flight to Athens and visit to flightdeck of Big Airways Tristar. P2 motors his seat backwards. Girlfriend asks:
"Is that your ejaculation seat"?
Stunned silence.
Not long thereafter; holiday flight to Athens and visit to flightdeck of Big Airways Tristar. P2 motors his seat backwards. Girlfriend asks:
"Is that your ejaculation seat"?
Stunned silence.
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Back in the late '70s, the RAF was still blessed with a telephone system which would have made Alexander Graham Bell wonder why he'd bothered. To phone outside one's station, onr rang the operator and requested the distant station; there would then be a series of clicks and hisses before operators came on further up the telephonic food-chain and re-directed the call:"Central? Oh, Rothwell Haigh, please dear" and other mysterious conversations would go on at progressively weaker volume level before one was connected to the other end and asked for the extension. One could expect to get Llanbedr when one wanted Lampeter, Brawdy or Bawdsey when one wanted Bawtry. The whole system could suddenly go dead, and if one paused for thought during a conversation, there would be a sudden screech of "ARE YOU WORKING" from some old biddy keeping an eye on her few trunk lines.
One fine day, a chum at a famous Scampton Vulcan squadron (not the one connected with a dead dog, or the boat-spotting one) was attempting to use this system in our Ops room to ring Henlow. The usual look of patient frustration wason his face; however after a few unsuccessful "Hello, hello, are you there operator?" entreaties, he announced to all and sundry "Bollock$! This $odding phone is still f*cked! What a piece of utter $hit!"
Whereupon an anguished outburst which could be heard half-way across the room came from the phone "There's no need for language like that, young man", screeched the outraged harpie!
You never know who's listening, do you e*h*l*n?
One fine day, a chum at a famous Scampton Vulcan squadron (not the one connected with a dead dog, or the boat-spotting one) was attempting to use this system in our Ops room to ring Henlow. The usual look of patient frustration wason his face; however after a few unsuccessful "Hello, hello, are you there operator?" entreaties, he announced to all and sundry "Bollock$! This $odding phone is still f*cked! What a piece of utter $hit!"
Whereupon an anguished outburst which could be heard half-way across the room came from the phone "There's no need for language like that, young man", screeched the outraged harpie!
You never know who's listening, do you e*h*l*n?
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I’m sorry but it’s difficult to type through a veil of tears. I know some of the people and victims involved. Well, here’s a couple to keep you going:
1. Same delightful RAF backwater near Tadcaster, out young blade is strolling over to the squadron and spies the SWO (archetypal hater of pilot officers) :
SWO: Morning, Sir
Matey: Mr Cork, why aren’t you bollocking me for walking across the grass?
SWO: Because you’re an officer, Sir
Matey: In that case why aren’t you saluting me? (Should take up breakdancing in minefields, It’d be safer)
2. Matey taxying out for first solo in the Bulldog (WOWWW!)
ATC: L123 say POB
Matey: Err, zero POB
ATC: Confirm at least one POB?
Matey: Ooh..sorry, I thought you meant passengers.
3. Taxying down the parallel at RAF Wijjering, aircraft being operated by AOC 1 Gp
ATC: ASCOT, From the Duty Instructor, you’re taxying too fast
ASCOT: From the AOC, I’ll taxy as fast as I bloody well like.
Ahhh, blissful memories. Keep’m coming mates
1. Same delightful RAF backwater near Tadcaster, out young blade is strolling over to the squadron and spies the SWO (archetypal hater of pilot officers) :
SWO: Morning, Sir
Matey: Mr Cork, why aren’t you bollocking me for walking across the grass?
SWO: Because you’re an officer, Sir
Matey: In that case why aren’t you saluting me? (Should take up breakdancing in minefields, It’d be safer)
2. Matey taxying out for first solo in the Bulldog (WOWWW!)
ATC: L123 say POB
Matey: Err, zero POB
ATC: Confirm at least one POB?
Matey: Ooh..sorry, I thought you meant passengers.
3. Taxying down the parallel at RAF Wijjering, aircraft being operated by AOC 1 Gp
ATC: ASCOT, From the Duty Instructor, you’re taxying too fast
ASCOT: From the AOC, I’ll taxy as fast as I bloody well like.
Ahhh, blissful memories. Keep’m coming mates
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I think a similar tale’s been told before, but it’s good enough to bear repeating. USAF C-141 inbound to the very busy Kadena airbase in Okinawa at the height of the Vietnam to-do. ATC man is talking non-stop to a truly amazing number of aircraft on his frequency. Seeming not to have taken a breath in ten minutes, he smoothly intones “MAC 1234, say POB.”
Very young-sounding voice: “Mac 1234 – P.O.B. (Haw, haw, haw.)”
ATC man doesn’t even pause or change tone: “Rog MAC 1234, say ‘Cancel IFR’.”
Very fast and very chastened correct reply from shavetail 2nd Lt co-pilot.
Very young-sounding voice: “Mac 1234 – P.O.B. (Haw, haw, haw.)”
ATC man doesn’t even pause or change tone: “Rog MAC 1234, say ‘Cancel IFR’.”
Very fast and very chastened correct reply from shavetail 2nd Lt co-pilot.
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Akrotiri (1967?) Even then grossly TopHeavy. Station briefing during exercise which included Marines attacking base. Most Senior Officer concludes briefing by saying that senior officers will have bodyguards. Dicky Dawes, a S/L at the time, raises his hand and says "Is that the Akrotiri version of senior officer or the RAF version of senior officer?". M.O.S. reply, "See me after the briefing Squadron Leader".
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Once upon a time at the College of Knowledge (before it went graduate) a certain instructor enjoyed doing the early morning weather check flight (the Dawn Patrol). This gave him a chance to fly for an hour sans student and also gave him a chance to "wire" the control tower while nobody was looking (all the senior officers being in the early morning met. briefing). This weather check aircraft was supposed to check the local area weather and then radio its report to the control tower. The control tower then relayed this local weather report by telephone to the met. briefing room for the use of the assembled station senior officers, instructors and students.
You have to understand that the weather check aircraft got airborne during the beginning of the met. briefing. If the said instructor was flying you could then clearly hear the aircraft return to the airfield for what was euphemistically called a "down wind visibility check". This was actually a very low run past the tower at as much speed as you could get out of a Mk.5. The sound of the aircraft was quite clear as it passed the tower flat out but the noise was tactfully ignored by all present at the briefing even though everybody knew what was going on.
One day the Dawn Patrol was heard to get airborne and then came the expected "whoosh" over the airfield. Shortly thereafter the telephone rang as normal but the message relayed by the answering student was not the expected weather report. "Woods has had a birdstrike Sir. He is returning to the field for an emergency landing."
Then came one of those unfortunate moments when someone says something out loud during a n unexpected silence. As the room fell silent one of the students was heard clearly to say "Bloody bird must have stood up".
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You have to understand that the weather check aircraft got airborne during the beginning of the met. briefing. If the said instructor was flying you could then clearly hear the aircraft return to the airfield for what was euphemistically called a "down wind visibility check". This was actually a very low run past the tower at as much speed as you could get out of a Mk.5. The sound of the aircraft was quite clear as it passed the tower flat out but the noise was tactfully ignored by all present at the briefing even though everybody knew what was going on.
One day the Dawn Patrol was heard to get airborne and then came the expected "whoosh" over the airfield. Shortly thereafter the telephone rang as normal but the message relayed by the answering student was not the expected weather report. "Woods has had a birdstrike Sir. He is returning to the field for an emergency landing."
Then came one of those unfortunate moments when someone says something out loud during a n unexpected silence. As the room fell silent one of the students was heard clearly to say "Bloody bird must have stood up".
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Cracking thread - please keep it up.
One of the squadron's SKJs had an intermittent hot mike snag. Enjoying a day trip away from the Pig (Carrier, yes we do still have some) the crew arrived at that splendid RAF Summer camp on Cyprus. Having dropped off pax at Bravo site (West end of the r/w) they were directed to go to Echo site (East end of the r/w). However, the crew was at this time still unfamiliar with the field (the usual supply of flight docs from upper air.)
P1 to P2: Echo site, ah bollocks! Where's that?
P2(heplfully) to P1: F**k knows.
Helpful ATC: Copy your request, follow taxiway to the end and take a right.
Off they taxied, passed the Tower, looking at their yaw pedals, as it was described to me later - if ever a helicopter could shuffle past, that was the time.
No fault was found on return to the carrier, so imagine our delight when the next day our crew were treated to a GL pilot and GL observer arguing about who should have been captain on their flight in. SAR launched to rescue all those poor teddies thrown from the pram.
The other hot mike fable that was told to me when I was under training, any old and bolds from that great fog magnet in Cornwall maybe able to add validity to it.
Two pilots were in a Sea King transiting back to Culdrose, when they heard a familiar, and rather attractive, female voice on a St Mawgan freq. Much banter followed of what exactly they would do to her should they ever get their sticky mits on her. Shortly after, the weather was closing in fast to red/red (surprise, surprise) and not being of the highest fuel state they thought early of a divert. No luck on any freqs, things looked a slight bit bleaker. Then chatting among themselves they decided what they could really do with would be a shepherd aircraft, only for another helo to turn up some time later to act as a bit of shepherd. Working out, via some helpful hand signals, that this was indeed their shepherd. As they settled into a rough formation, one of the pilots suggested that "wouldn't it be better if the other a/c did so and so" cue other aircraft doing so and so. Big think bubble emerges from the Sea King as they find out that they were on permanent transmit. Legend has it though that it did open up a little relationship between the pilot and a certain WRAF ATC, who knows.
It's not how fast u go, it how deep u dip.
One of the squadron's SKJs had an intermittent hot mike snag. Enjoying a day trip away from the Pig (Carrier, yes we do still have some) the crew arrived at that splendid RAF Summer camp on Cyprus. Having dropped off pax at Bravo site (West end of the r/w) they were directed to go to Echo site (East end of the r/w). However, the crew was at this time still unfamiliar with the field (the usual supply of flight docs from upper air.)
P1 to P2: Echo site, ah bollocks! Where's that?
P2(heplfully) to P1: F**k knows.
Helpful ATC: Copy your request, follow taxiway to the end and take a right.
Off they taxied, passed the Tower, looking at their yaw pedals, as it was described to me later - if ever a helicopter could shuffle past, that was the time.
No fault was found on return to the carrier, so imagine our delight when the next day our crew were treated to a GL pilot and GL observer arguing about who should have been captain on their flight in. SAR launched to rescue all those poor teddies thrown from the pram.
The other hot mike fable that was told to me when I was under training, any old and bolds from that great fog magnet in Cornwall maybe able to add validity to it.
Two pilots were in a Sea King transiting back to Culdrose, when they heard a familiar, and rather attractive, female voice on a St Mawgan freq. Much banter followed of what exactly they would do to her should they ever get their sticky mits on her. Shortly after, the weather was closing in fast to red/red (surprise, surprise) and not being of the highest fuel state they thought early of a divert. No luck on any freqs, things looked a slight bit bleaker. Then chatting among themselves they decided what they could really do with would be a shepherd aircraft, only for another helo to turn up some time later to act as a bit of shepherd. Working out, via some helpful hand signals, that this was indeed their shepherd. As they settled into a rough formation, one of the pilots suggested that "wouldn't it be better if the other a/c did so and so" cue other aircraft doing so and so. Big think bubble emerges from the Sea King as they find out that they were on permanent transmit. Legend has it though that it did open up a little relationship between the pilot and a certain WRAF ATC, who knows.
It's not how fast u go, it how deep u dip.
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Paul, perhaps I should not be using real names in my stories but whenever I mention anyone by name it is because they were great people, they were held in high regard by their friends and they should be remembered.
Here's another.
Ben was specialist aircrew (therefore older and wiser(?) than the rest of us). He had one of the fastest and most non-PC sense of humours I have ever seen. In these days he would last about as long as the proverbial celluloid cat being chased through the flames of Hell by an asbestos dog. Personally witnessed example
New Lady ATC Officer "Hello, my name is xxxxx Hunt".
Ben, instantly "I will have to call you Isaac".
Lady Officer, puzzled "Why would you want to do that?"
Nobody bothered to explain.
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[This message has been edited by BOING (edited 19 December 2000).]
Here's another.
Ben was specialist aircrew (therefore older and wiser(?) than the rest of us). He had one of the fastest and most non-PC sense of humours I have ever seen. In these days he would last about as long as the proverbial celluloid cat being chased through the flames of Hell by an asbestos dog. Personally witnessed example
New Lady ATC Officer "Hello, my name is xxxxx Hunt".
Ben, instantly "I will have to call you Isaac".
Lady Officer, puzzled "Why would you want to do that?"
Nobody bothered to explain.
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[This message has been edited by BOING (edited 19 December 2000).]
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A few years ago, during a training sortie which involved transiting across the UK, i sat there with not much more to do than listen to the radios (nothing new there).
There was an american FJ on the same freq, when my day was brightened up by listening to this:
ATC: Devil 1 (made up) request your POB
Devil 1: Say again
ATC: Request no. of POB
Devil 1: Oh my persons on board! Oh, there's just me.
ATC: Ah, 1 POB
Devil 1: That's affirmative sir, just me!
Such a simple request made to sound like a challenging question!
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One afternoon in Ops at Goose Bay, SLOPS and his Ops Clerk were busy dealing with some incoming traffic when Bod, one of the MT drivers came to sign on for his upcoming Duty Airman. Bod finds the signing on book, but exclaims
‘Hey! If someone signs in my place does it mean that they have to do my duty airman for me?’
‘Just sign the book Bod’
‘If someone’s signed in my place, they’ll have to do the duty’
‘What night are you on, Bod?’
‘The 28th’
‘Well, sign there where it says 28th’
‘But it says in orders that you have to sign on the day before’
Bless him
‘Hey! If someone signs in my place does it mean that they have to do my duty airman for me?’
‘Just sign the book Bod’
‘If someone’s signed in my place, they’ll have to do the duty’
‘What night are you on, Bod?’
‘The 28th’
‘Well, sign there where it says 28th’
‘But it says in orders that you have to sign on the day before’
Bless him
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Not exactly on topic, but funny none the less:
DARWIN AWARD WINNER FOR 1997 ANNOUNCED
You all know about the Darwin Awards - It's an annual honor given to the person who did the gene pool the biggest service by killing themselves in the most extraordinarily stupid way.
The 1995 winner was the fellow who was killed by a Coke machine which toppled over on top of him as he was attempting to tip a free soda out of it.
In 1996 the winner was an Air Force sergeant who attached a JATO (Jet Assisted Take Off) unit to his car and crashed into a cliff several hundred feet above the roadbed.
And now, the 1997 winner: Larry Waters of Los Angeles -- one of the few Darwin winners to survive his award-winning accomplishment. Larry's boyhood dream was to fly. When he graduated from high school, he joined the Air Force in hopes of becoming a pilot. Unfortunately, poor eyesight disqualified him. When he was finally discharged, he had to satisfy himself with watching jets fly over his backyard.
One day, Larry, had a bright idea. He decided to fly. He went to the local Army-Navy surplus store and purchased 45 weather balloons and several tanks of helium. The weather balloons, when fully inflated, would measure more than four feet across.
Back home, Larry securely strapped the balloons to his sturdy lawn chair. He anchored the chair to the bumper of his jeep and inflated the balloons with the helium. He climbed on for a test while it was still only a few feet above the ground.
Satisfied it would work, Larry packed several sandwiches and a six-pack of Miller Lite, loaded his pellet gun-- figuring he could pop a few balloons when it was time to descend-- and went back to the floating lawn chair.
He tied himself in along with his pellet gun and provisions. Larry's plan was to lazily float up to a height of about 30 feet above his backyard after severing the anchor and in a few hours come back down.
Things didn't quite work out that way.
When he cut the cord anchoring the lawn chair to his jeep, he didn't float lazily up to 30 or so feet. Instead he streaked into the LA sky as if shot from a cannon. He didn't level of at 30 feet, nor did he level off at 100 feet. After climbing and climbing, he leveled off at 11,000 feet. At that height he couldn't risk shooting any of the balloons, lest he unbalance the load and really find himself in trouble. So he stayed there, drifting, cold and frightened, for more than 14 hours.
Then he really got in trouble. He found himself drifting into the the primary approach corridor of Los Angeles International Airport. A United pilot first spotted Larry. He radioed the tower and described passing a guy in a lawn chair with a gun. Radar confirmed the existence of an object floating 11,000 feet above the airport. LAX emergency procedures swung into full alert and a helicopter was dispatched to investigate. LAX is right on the ocean. Night was falling and the offshore breeze began to flow. It carried Larry out to sea with the helicopter in hot pursuit. Several miles out, the helicopter caught up with Larry. Once the crew determined that Larry was not dangerous, they attempted to close in for a rescue but the draft from the blades would push Larry away whenever they neared.
Finally, the helicopter ascended to a position several hundred feet above Larry and lowered a rescue line. Larry snagged the line and was hauled back to shore. The difficult maneuver was flawlessly executed by the helicopter crew. As soon as Larry was hauled to earth, he was arrested by waiting members of the LAPD for violating LAX airspace. As he was led away in handcuffs, a reporter dispatched to cover the daring rescue asked why he had done it. Larry stopped,turned and replied nonchalantly, "A man can't just sit around."
DARWIN AWARD WINNER FOR 1997 ANNOUNCED
You all know about the Darwin Awards - It's an annual honor given to the person who did the gene pool the biggest service by killing themselves in the most extraordinarily stupid way.
The 1995 winner was the fellow who was killed by a Coke machine which toppled over on top of him as he was attempting to tip a free soda out of it.
In 1996 the winner was an Air Force sergeant who attached a JATO (Jet Assisted Take Off) unit to his car and crashed into a cliff several hundred feet above the roadbed.
And now, the 1997 winner: Larry Waters of Los Angeles -- one of the few Darwin winners to survive his award-winning accomplishment. Larry's boyhood dream was to fly. When he graduated from high school, he joined the Air Force in hopes of becoming a pilot. Unfortunately, poor eyesight disqualified him. When he was finally discharged, he had to satisfy himself with watching jets fly over his backyard.
One day, Larry, had a bright idea. He decided to fly. He went to the local Army-Navy surplus store and purchased 45 weather balloons and several tanks of helium. The weather balloons, when fully inflated, would measure more than four feet across.
Back home, Larry securely strapped the balloons to his sturdy lawn chair. He anchored the chair to the bumper of his jeep and inflated the balloons with the helium. He climbed on for a test while it was still only a few feet above the ground.
Satisfied it would work, Larry packed several sandwiches and a six-pack of Miller Lite, loaded his pellet gun-- figuring he could pop a few balloons when it was time to descend-- and went back to the floating lawn chair.
He tied himself in along with his pellet gun and provisions. Larry's plan was to lazily float up to a height of about 30 feet above his backyard after severing the anchor and in a few hours come back down.
Things didn't quite work out that way.
When he cut the cord anchoring the lawn chair to his jeep, he didn't float lazily up to 30 or so feet. Instead he streaked into the LA sky as if shot from a cannon. He didn't level of at 30 feet, nor did he level off at 100 feet. After climbing and climbing, he leveled off at 11,000 feet. At that height he couldn't risk shooting any of the balloons, lest he unbalance the load and really find himself in trouble. So he stayed there, drifting, cold and frightened, for more than 14 hours.
Then he really got in trouble. He found himself drifting into the the primary approach corridor of Los Angeles International Airport. A United pilot first spotted Larry. He radioed the tower and described passing a guy in a lawn chair with a gun. Radar confirmed the existence of an object floating 11,000 feet above the airport. LAX emergency procedures swung into full alert and a helicopter was dispatched to investigate. LAX is right on the ocean. Night was falling and the offshore breeze began to flow. It carried Larry out to sea with the helicopter in hot pursuit. Several miles out, the helicopter caught up with Larry. Once the crew determined that Larry was not dangerous, they attempted to close in for a rescue but the draft from the blades would push Larry away whenever they neared.
Finally, the helicopter ascended to a position several hundred feet above Larry and lowered a rescue line. Larry snagged the line and was hauled back to shore. The difficult maneuver was flawlessly executed by the helicopter crew. As soon as Larry was hauled to earth, he was arrested by waiting members of the LAPD for violating LAX airspace. As he was led away in handcuffs, a reporter dispatched to cover the daring rescue asked why he had done it. Larry stopped,turned and replied nonchalantly, "A man can't just sit around."
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Paul Wesson - yes, that old b*gger Benbow told us that story when I was at RAFC with other struggling U/T pilots. He started his flying career, would you believe, on Beaufighters!! Sitting in the back of ancient TT10s throwing out drogue targets whilst based in Seletar or somesuch far-flung corner of the Universe in the late '50s, 'twould seem.
Being exposed to characters like Ben whilst going through the purgatory of OT and Basic helped us to have a 'reality check' in those days; no doubt his non-PC ways would be frowned upon nowadays, but hell, it was fun then!!
Being exposed to characters like Ben whilst going through the purgatory of OT and Basic helped us to have a 'reality check' in those days; no doubt his non-PC ways would be frowned upon nowadays, but hell, it was fun then!!