I Wish I Hadn't Said That ...
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Wish I hadn't said/done that
After having a few beers in the Mess Bar (a Mess which I had never been to before) I decided it was time for a pee break, so I head down the corridor, locate the toilet and do the business. Relieved and ready to go I then head back on the way to which I thought was the bar where an older lady was standing, the jist of the conversation goes:
ME: Good Evening Madam, how are you?
LADY: I am very well, thank you
(I then open the door)
ME: Would you like to come in?
LADY: Definitely not **looking very cross***
ME: You really should, I promise you’ll have a great time.
LADY: NO I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO ***storms off looking very very angry***
ME: (in my head) whats her
problem
To which I turn around and the door I have opened is a bedroom, oh bollock$
Snoopy
ME: Good Evening Madam, how are you?
LADY: I am very well, thank you
(I then open the door)
ME: Would you like to come in?
LADY: Definitely not **looking very cross***
ME: You really should, I promise you’ll have a great time.
LADY: NO I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO ***storms off looking very very angry***
ME: (in my head) whats her
problemTo which I turn around and the door I have opened is a bedroom, oh bollock$
Snoopy
Last edited by snoopy1107; 8th Jun 2007 at 13:41.
Wish I hadn't written that
Having regrettably answered a letter pinned to the Wardroom notice board from a young lady seeking to partner any young unattached officer to the forthcoming ARK ROYAL de-commissioning ball, I described myself - not altogether honestly, it being a post-Happy Hour letter - as a tall, dark, handsome, rugged Phantom pilot with a GSOH, and indicating that I may be interested, if she would kindly send a photo of herself.
.
She wrote back, indicating that she too was tall, was the daughter of an Army Major, enjoyed outdoor pursuits, had a GSOH; and she enclosed a 'Country Life' debutant-esque studio photograph complete with dramatic backdrop, hacking jacket, plus fours, carnaby cap, and with pedigree dalmation, which she titled "Me and my Dog".
.
Writing back what I hoped would be taken as a humorous rejection, I asked the ultimate question: "Nice picture, which one's the dog?".
.
After some weeks of the ship's final deployment - we were in Malta at the time - the Commander summons young erk, having received an irate letter from lady's mum asking him whether or not 6Z3 the lad with the GSOH, was escorting her daughter to the ball. He explained to me in single syllable terms that I was!
.
Actually, ignoring the fact that with her hair piled high into a tiara and wearing 4 inch heels she was some 18 inches taller than me, we had quite a good time in the end, but I did have some problems explaining to my then GF why I wasn't taking her!!!
.
She wrote back, indicating that she too was tall, was the daughter of an Army Major, enjoyed outdoor pursuits, had a GSOH; and she enclosed a 'Country Life' debutant-esque studio photograph complete with dramatic backdrop, hacking jacket, plus fours, carnaby cap, and with pedigree dalmation, which she titled "Me and my Dog".
.
Writing back what I hoped would be taken as a humorous rejection, I asked the ultimate question: "Nice picture, which one's the dog?".
.
After some weeks of the ship's final deployment - we were in Malta at the time - the Commander summons young erk, having received an irate letter from lady's mum asking him whether or not 6Z3 the lad with the GSOH, was escorting her daughter to the ball. He explained to me in single syllable terms that I was!
.
Actually, ignoring the fact that with her hair piled high into a tiara and wearing 4 inch heels she was some 18 inches taller than me, we had quite a good time in the end, but I did have some problems explaining to my then GF why I wasn't taking her!!!
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6Z3. The difference in height you describe makes it sound as though your nose might if been pleasantly embedded while you were dancing!
Last edited by A2QFI; 8th Jun 2007 at 17:57.
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'Mid-Dinner' Speeches
Hmm, some credential showing. Those whom were there for this can testify to my inebriation, however, here goes. Runway 07 (ARK), sometime in 2001/2002, a full-house mess dinner, including RADM Leadbetter (FOMA) and pingers, baggers etc. Very drunk Freddie amongst similarly pi**ed SHAR types. Post scran, Mess President announces "Mr Vice, The Queen". Mr Vice duly pipes up "Ladies (for there were some - not just the baggers) and gentlemen, The Queen". Cue drunken fool - "And her dead Mum". Now dearest QM had just popped her clogs and was patron of said large steamer and Ship's Officers very fond of the old dear (despite the fact she could out-drink any of them). Amongst much giggling from our table I even managed to escape a huge fine for inappropriate behaviour from the Commander (nice bloke - not) - unlike brother Parker (JP) who got fined for easing springs without authority (would they prefer him o p*ss on the floor/deck?) and calmly drank the contents of his 'fine' in front of the Commander - the entire decanter!! A true dit!!
I will let Scapegoat and Deadmeat spin some of the more juicy stories - particularly (Deadmeat) the one about the Midshipman and the Ł50 bet........
I will let Scapegoat and Deadmeat spin some of the more juicy stories - particularly (Deadmeat) the one about the Midshipman and the Ł50 bet........
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Mid 60s at an airshow somewhere in Germany and a Mk2 Shack from BK is sitting proudly on static display. Delegated to answer questions from the public are two of the sqns finest, one siggy and a GC snco. All went well for a while but soon all the silly questions posed by Joe Public became too much and something had to snap, conversation between a middle aged German civilian and H, the rad fitt went something like this:
m.a.g "Vot aeroplane is zis, I do not recognise it"?
H (leading m.a.g gently by the hand into the bomb bay) "Try lying down and looking up, it may be more familiar from that angle".
A change of "enquiry answering operatives" took place shortly thereafter.
s37
m.a.g "Vot aeroplane is zis, I do not recognise it"?
H (leading m.a.g gently by the hand into the bomb bay) "Try lying down and looking up, it may be more familiar from that angle".
A change of "enquiry answering operatives" took place shortly thereafter.
s37
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It's 2006, the end of a happy-hour evening in the bar, at the officers' mess, RAF Lincolnshire. Our hero, by day, a steely-eyed QFI, but by night, like this night, a renowned beer monster. Some of the more senior drinkers in the bar have just taken delivery of the finest Italian cuisine the local area can provide, when our hero decides to steal a slice. This does not go down too well with the striped-up-ones, and the following conversation takes place:
Wg Cdr: I think you've had enough young man.
Hero: I do apologise...(hic)....
Wg Cdr: Its a bit late for apologies, come on, off to bed with you.
Hero: Okay, okay, how about an apology and........(rummages in pockets)......twenty quid?
Wg Cdr (becoming visibly irate): No! Now I suggest you leave!
Hero: ..........thirty quid?
Wg Cdr: I think you've had enough young man.
Hero: I do apologise...(hic)....
Wg Cdr: Its a bit late for apologies, come on, off to bed with you.
Hero: Okay, okay, how about an apology and........(rummages in pockets)......twenty quid?
Wg Cdr (becoming visibly irate): No! Now I suggest you leave!
Hero: ..........thirty quid?
1 Grp Ops Bawtry, 1970s.
Air 2 (wee Scottish terrier) wanders in to check on the status of his Buccaneers out at Red Flag. Seeing nothing on the board he snaps “where are my Buccaneers?” Anonymous voice from other side of the room replies “same place as always Jock, on the side of your buccin-ead”.
The AOC (PJL) was meticulous in his arrival time for morning prayers and would always press the buzzer on the outer security door at bang on nine o’clock….. to the second. After a few months he appeared to be around seven seconds late some mornings and no one could figure out why he had relaxed his standards. One of the Ops staff mentioned it to his ADC in the bar and was assured that the AOC always checked his watch with TIM, would set off from his office and come down the Met office stairs at the correct moment. After a few weeks somebody twigged, a new watch corporal was setting the ops room clock on the first beep of TIM, not the last. This meant that 1 Grp were always a few seconds ahead of the rest of the RAF (nothing new there then!)
Air 2 (wee Scottish terrier) wanders in to check on the status of his Buccaneers out at Red Flag. Seeing nothing on the board he snaps “where are my Buccaneers?” Anonymous voice from other side of the room replies “same place as always Jock, on the side of your buccin-ead”.
The AOC (PJL) was meticulous in his arrival time for morning prayers and would always press the buzzer on the outer security door at bang on nine o’clock….. to the second. After a few months he appeared to be around seven seconds late some mornings and no one could figure out why he had relaxed his standards. One of the Ops staff mentioned it to his ADC in the bar and was assured that the AOC always checked his watch with TIM, would set off from his office and come down the Met office stairs at the correct moment. After a few weeks somebody twigged, a new watch corporal was setting the ops room clock on the first beep of TIM, not the last. This meant that 1 Grp were always a few seconds ahead of the rest of the RAF (nothing new there then!)
Cranwell groundschool, S/L Enderby's Nav lesson mid '70s, remember BEags?
.
After a whole lesson of definitions (eg definition of West= direction in which the Earth rotates; East= opposite of West; Kilometre = One 10,000th of the average distance between the Equator and either Pole; etc, etc) the time came for Enderby to check us on our information retention.
.
"OK lads, what is the definition of a Statute Mile......wait for it, wait for it...... Flying Officer Sp**g"
.
Sp**g looks up from his notes and promptly replies:
.
"It's one 256th of the average distance between here and Barrow-in-Furness SIR; it says so here on my 1771".
.
After a whole lesson of definitions (eg definition of West= direction in which the Earth rotates; East= opposite of West; Kilometre = One 10,000th of the average distance between the Equator and either Pole; etc, etc) the time came for Enderby to check us on our information retention.
.
"OK lads, what is the definition of a Statute Mile......wait for it, wait for it...... Flying Officer Sp**g"
.
Sp**g looks up from his notes and promptly replies:
.
"It's one 256th of the average distance between here and Barrow-in-Furness SIR; it says so here on my 1771".
Next lesson, Radio Procedures. A whole 45 minutes worth of the difference between "Roger" and "Wilco". One is to the action addressee, one could be to either the action addressee or the info addressee blah, blah 
for 45 mins.
.
At the end of the lesson Enderby seeks to check us, as usual:
.
"Right then, lads, what IS the difference between Roger and Wilco........wait for it.....wait for it..........Sp**g.
.
Sp**g, quick as a flash responds:
.
"Sir, you can't Wilco a cat"
for 45 mins..
At the end of the lesson Enderby seeks to check us, as usual:
.
"Right then, lads, what IS the difference between Roger and Wilco........wait for it.....wait for it..........Sp**g.
.
Sp**g, quick as a flash responds:
.
"Sir, you can't Wilco a cat"
And then there was scare-o-dynamics given by S/L Erwood - he of the 'Erwood Wing'.
One day he tells us that old joke about "How do you get 2 elephants in a mini? One in the front, one in the back. How do you get 2 giraffes in? You can't - the elephants have nicked all the seats!" Then his final line "How do you get 2 whales in a Mini?" To which we were supposed to look puzzled, wherupon he would gleefully announce "Down the A46!"
Well, that's what happened when he told Set A. There were so many of us, that we were split into 2 sets. Set A told us the joke, so we were determined to outfox the old so-and-so....
As predicted, he started the joke - we began to titter as he had fallen into our trap. But he thought we were laughing at his joke... When it got to "How do you get 2 whales in a Mini", we all yelled out in unison "NEWARK, LEICESTER, COVENTRY, WORCESTER, HEREFORD - WALES!"
He didn't see the funny side!
Great days though, eh 6Z3?
One day he tells us that old joke about "How do you get 2 elephants in a mini? One in the front, one in the back. How do you get 2 giraffes in? You can't - the elephants have nicked all the seats!" Then his final line "How do you get 2 whales in a Mini?" To which we were supposed to look puzzled, wherupon he would gleefully announce "Down the A46!"
Well, that's what happened when he told Set A. There were so many of us, that we were split into 2 sets. Set A told us the joke, so we were determined to outfox the old so-and-so....
As predicted, he started the joke - we began to titter as he had fallen into our trap. But he thought we were laughing at his joke... When it got to "How do you get 2 whales in a Mini", we all yelled out in unison "NEWARK, LEICESTER, COVENTRY, WORCESTER, HEREFORD - WALES!"
He didn't see the funny side!
Great days though, eh 6Z3?
And another one.
For some reason, Bikini Amber had been called. As a result, cars were jammed all the way from College Hall to Cranwell village, making it difficult to get down the road to Groundschool (in those days it was on the way to the AeroThermodynamics buildings).
Arrives Griff-the-Met for one of his lectures..
"Have you seen the queue?", he grumbles.
"Actually, I thought it was stratus, sir", responds Pete 'Mr Gumby' J***.....
For some reason, Bikini Amber had been called. As a result, cars were jammed all the way from College Hall to Cranwell village, making it difficult to get down the road to Groundschool (in those days it was on the way to the AeroThermodynamics buildings).
Arrives Griff-the-Met for one of his lectures..
"Have you seen the queue?", he grumbles.
"Actually, I thought it was stratus, sir", responds Pete 'Mr Gumby' J***.....
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Out of the Mouths of Babes
Circa early 1980's and the FLTCDR on No 14 Sqn RNZAF takes one of his bograts for a bit of 2 v 2 practise in the Mighty BAC167 Strikemaster. Mid-way through the first engagement the FLTCDR momentarily loses SA on his wingman. R/T goes something like this:
FLTCDR: "2 from 1, say your position?"
Bograt: "I'm number three in the daisy chain."
FLTCDR: "What daisy chain?"
Bograt: "The one you're leading!"
Suffice to say, strong debrief followed ...
FLTCDR: "2 from 1, say your position?"
Bograt: "I'm number three in the daisy chain."
FLTCDR: "What daisy chain?"
Bograt: "The one you're leading!"
Suffice to say, strong debrief followed ...
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Staff College Bracknell
Top thread, not had so much fun for ages. Not read them all, but want to offer this before I forget it, hope it's not here somewhere:
During staff college stint the then comdt (AVM P-E) used to always open his first talk to the eager attendees with the words: "Ladies and gentlemen, as all the brightest and best come through these doors, statistically I could be talking to a future CAS, in that case "Good Morning, Sir"".
Voice from back row, "Thank you, please carry on".
Not a sound from anyone else and AVM P-E (with sense of humour) just carried on, leaving one very relieved young thruster in the back row.
Would love to know if he made it, should almost be there by now!.
During staff college stint the then comdt (AVM P-E) used to always open his first talk to the eager attendees with the words: "Ladies and gentlemen, as all the brightest and best come through these doors, statistically I could be talking to a future CAS, in that case "Good Morning, Sir"".
Voice from back row, "Thank you, please carry on".
Not a sound from anyone else and AVM P-E (with sense of humour) just carried on, leaving one very relieved young thruster in the back row.
Would love to know if he made it, should almost be there by now!.
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Bringing some civvie VIPs into Basra in 2003 with aforementioned suited types on headset, our aircraft is held together with bits of bodgetape and string (a Klassic). Hearing about all the failures as the Eng briefs the Capt (again), the civvies begin to look uncomfortble but decide to steel themselves for the journey. Just after rotate the shiny new SA increasing TV-like box that sat in front of the Nav failed.
Nav:"Capt - Nav - We've just had a terminal failure"
Exit civvies down the back looking very scared with the philosophy of What they don't know won't hurt them.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Same Op, differnet crew carrying the Commander-in-Chief of the Tri-Service Chaplin Community into Basra. All crew briefed by Capt "no swearing, no FHM Top Trumps, no Girl talk, no chat about last night etc". 2 mins after t/o with His Reverendship on headset, something fails:
Capt:"F**K" - 2 sec break "C**k, I just said F**k" - "Oh Boll***s"
Padre very good bloke. It broke the ice and we had a great trip.
Nav:"Capt - Nav - We've just had a terminal failure"
Exit civvies down the back looking very scared with the philosophy of What they don't know won't hurt them.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Same Op, differnet crew carrying the Commander-in-Chief of the Tri-Service Chaplin Community into Basra. All crew briefed by Capt "no swearing, no FHM Top Trumps, no Girl talk, no chat about last night etc". 2 mins after t/o with His Reverendship on headset, something fails:
Capt:"F**K" - 2 sec break "C**k, I just said F**k" - "Oh Boll***s"
Padre very good bloke. It broke the ice and we had a great trip.
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A bit purile but here it goes....
2 A10's call for LARS, callsign Willy...After much childish sniggering the female controller asks for their destination to which they reply "Willy en-route Harwarden".
Yes, very silly.
2 A10's call for LARS, callsign Willy...After much childish sniggering the female controller asks for their destination to which they reply "Willy en-route Harwarden".
Yes, very silly.
Below the Glidepath - not correcting
Or the anecdotal USAF Pave Hawks from Bentwaters some years ago reporting position to East Midland Radar as LOOGAH-BAROOGAH. (Loughborough)
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280 Su
280SU 1974'ish - TACEVAL. I'm on the Ops roof at night looking for the nasty invaders - the SAS in this case.. I spot 2 guys at the perimeter fence, one on the others shoulders, who then leaps into the compound and does a runner. I pick up the field telephone at my end of the roof, only to find it's dead. I then run over to the other side of the roof and pick up the second field telephone handset whilst sitting myself on a bunch of 'sandbags'. The 'sandbags' say to me..."...and that bugger won't work either"... oh the moments when you discover the true colour of adrenaline!
