TACEVAL stories
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I'm sure I've told this before but I'll do it again:
Lossie, mid 80's, line hut of a Bucc squadron gets bombed during an air raid. Taceval team came in and told us we were all casualties and handed out chits with supposed injuries. Our resident jolly japester went around everyone else looing at their chits, till he found one that said he had head injuries and other minor stuff which he immediately confiscated. Some frantic running around, and three minutes later he had the contents of a cold hot loc lunch in a small plastic bag, mixed with a cup of cold tea, and all mashed together to a sludgy consistency. The neck of this bag is firmly grasped in one hand, and concealed down the collar of his NBC suit so that it looks as if he is holding his colar bone.
Anyway, the all clear goes and we arrange ourselves around the "bombed" line hut and started practising our injured moans. After a couple of minutes a couple of guys from the hangar burst in the door, obviously responding to the inject. They started going round checking the chits to see which casualty to deal with first, and one came to the japester. "What's wrong with you mate" he says reaching across the prone body for the chit. At this point the japester rolled over, made a convincing retching noise, and simultaneously squeezed the bag whilst release the neck. The contents of bag made a very realistic projective vomit over the floor and boots of the rescuer, who jumped back screaming something like "You dirty barsteward...I'm not rescueing you!"
Same sqn a couple of years later. The jets are all away in foreign climes and the rear party are in the process of shipping everything that was left from the hangar to the new HAS site. One day it was announced that the Queen Mummy was flying out that afternoon from our pan, so we were all to stay out of sight until she had gone. She duly drives up, gets in the QF jet, and flies off. At this point we were told "right, no more for today, see you in the morning" so all the singlies legged it off to the mess for tea. We'd just got there when the hooter went off (they had obviously been waiting for the royal visitor to get far enough away). So back to the hangar we went, got changed and assembled in the crew room as we didnt have any jets to generate. After helf an hour the WO walks in, and announces that we will not be taking part in the exercise but it would not be prudent to go back to the block because we'll end up getting dragged into something or other. He then turned to the tea bar mechanic and asked how much of the tea bar had been packed up for the move. A brief description was given of the food and sweetie stocks, followed by "... and there is still a couple of barrels left from the last beer call". "Right" said the WO, "lock all the doors and crack open the first barrel". From then until Endex we sat in a darkened crew room drinking beer while the rest of the station was playing at war, although we did get a compliant about trying to subvert a passing patrol by opening the crew room window and offering them pints of beer if they defected.
Lossie, mid 80's, line hut of a Bucc squadron gets bombed during an air raid. Taceval team came in and told us we were all casualties and handed out chits with supposed injuries. Our resident jolly japester went around everyone else looing at their chits, till he found one that said he had head injuries and other minor stuff which he immediately confiscated. Some frantic running around, and three minutes later he had the contents of a cold hot loc lunch in a small plastic bag, mixed with a cup of cold tea, and all mashed together to a sludgy consistency. The neck of this bag is firmly grasped in one hand, and concealed down the collar of his NBC suit so that it looks as if he is holding his colar bone.
Anyway, the all clear goes and we arrange ourselves around the "bombed" line hut and started practising our injured moans. After a couple of minutes a couple of guys from the hangar burst in the door, obviously responding to the inject. They started going round checking the chits to see which casualty to deal with first, and one came to the japester. "What's wrong with you mate" he says reaching across the prone body for the chit. At this point the japester rolled over, made a convincing retching noise, and simultaneously squeezed the bag whilst release the neck. The contents of bag made a very realistic projective vomit over the floor and boots of the rescuer, who jumped back screaming something like "You dirty barsteward...I'm not rescueing you!"
Same sqn a couple of years later. The jets are all away in foreign climes and the rear party are in the process of shipping everything that was left from the hangar to the new HAS site. One day it was announced that the Queen Mummy was flying out that afternoon from our pan, so we were all to stay out of sight until she had gone. She duly drives up, gets in the QF jet, and flies off. At this point we were told "right, no more for today, see you in the morning" so all the singlies legged it off to the mess for tea. We'd just got there when the hooter went off (they had obviously been waiting for the royal visitor to get far enough away). So back to the hangar we went, got changed and assembled in the crew room as we didnt have any jets to generate. After helf an hour the WO walks in, and announces that we will not be taking part in the exercise but it would not be prudent to go back to the block because we'll end up getting dragged into something or other. He then turned to the tea bar mechanic and asked how much of the tea bar had been packed up for the move. A brief description was given of the food and sweetie stocks, followed by "... and there is still a couple of barrels left from the last beer call". "Right" said the WO, "lock all the doors and crack open the first barrel". From then until Endex we sat in a darkened crew room drinking beer while the rest of the station was playing at war, although we did get a compliant about trying to subvert a passing patrol by opening the crew room window and offering them pints of beer if they defected.
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Bruggen inject
Overflying jet has dropped the old butterfly antipersonnel mines outside HAS entrance, deal with it.... Now these had a 10 minute period until they armed, ( or so we were told ) so off rushes our Chiefy hops on the little sweeper we had ( think British Rail platform sweeper ) and promptly hoovers them all up whilst the Di Staff look on aghast, once finished in under 10 mins he simply parks up on the grass and abandons it
..
Overflying jet has dropped the old butterfly antipersonnel mines outside HAS entrance, deal with it.... Now these had a 10 minute period until they armed, ( or so we were told ) so off rushes our Chiefy hops on the little sweeper we had ( think British Rail platform sweeper ) and promptly hoovers them all up whilst the Di Staff look on aghast, once finished in under 10 mins he simply parks up on the grass and abandons it
..
Last edited by NutLoose; 4th Aug 2013 at 08:56.
Avoid imitations
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Not strictly a TACEVAL, but Exercise Lionheart 1985. RAF Gutersloh. This was I believe the biggest exercise since WW2.
I was on detachment from Shawbury with two Gazelle HT2s, responsible for "Battle Damage Repair Recce", BDRR. The Gazelles had been given this "new" war role for the exercise. This struck fear into many of the old school, dyed in the wool QHI cadre at Shawbury who hadn't seen an NBC suit for donkey's years, but that's a different story.
Basically BDRR simply meant going out after an air raid with a Royal engineer observer and recceing the airfield from low level whilst plotting bomb damage and UXBs on a gridded map. So "advanced" were comms back then that having completed the task, the paper map was put in a plastic bag, complete with a stone (I kid you not) and dropped from a high hover through the message chute onto the COMCEN car park. The sentry was then to retrieve it and take it inside for further action by the Royal Engineer repair teams.
The Gazelles had been painted with a temporary camouflaged scheme using emulsion paint of some sort. However, the nose panel of the aircraft was left in the normal gloss red, along with its peacetime fleet letter in black. This was so flying through rain didn't cause the temporary paint to get dissolved and run back off over the canopy.
We had done the job a few times before, it worked well. However, on the occasion is question, an RAF policeman was walking across the COMCEN car park as we approached the high hover. I expected him to just keep on walking and move clear. However, he stopped, looked up at the aircraft, took one pace backwards, drew his 9mm pistol and held it in the firing position, aimed at me! It was obvious he was taking it seriously, I could see him faking the recoil (at least I hoped it was fake).
However, we completed the drop and returned to our hide in one of the Harrier HASs on the south side of the runway. I immediately got on the phone and asked what the policeman thought he was doing. A rapid "field enquiry" was held.
Apparently the policeman looked up at the helicopter, saw it had "E" on its nose panel and assumed this stood for "Enemy"!
So he shot me (had he done so, the Gazelle would have crash landed on his head).
Next day I decided to use the other Gazelle. This was "F" for friend......
I was on detachment from Shawbury with two Gazelle HT2s, responsible for "Battle Damage Repair Recce", BDRR. The Gazelles had been given this "new" war role for the exercise. This struck fear into many of the old school, dyed in the wool QHI cadre at Shawbury who hadn't seen an NBC suit for donkey's years, but that's a different story.
Basically BDRR simply meant going out after an air raid with a Royal engineer observer and recceing the airfield from low level whilst plotting bomb damage and UXBs on a gridded map. So "advanced" were comms back then that having completed the task, the paper map was put in a plastic bag, complete with a stone (I kid you not) and dropped from a high hover through the message chute onto the COMCEN car park. The sentry was then to retrieve it and take it inside for further action by the Royal Engineer repair teams.
The Gazelles had been painted with a temporary camouflaged scheme using emulsion paint of some sort. However, the nose panel of the aircraft was left in the normal gloss red, along with its peacetime fleet letter in black. This was so flying through rain didn't cause the temporary paint to get dissolved and run back off over the canopy.
We had done the job a few times before, it worked well. However, on the occasion is question, an RAF policeman was walking across the COMCEN car park as we approached the high hover. I expected him to just keep on walking and move clear. However, he stopped, looked up at the aircraft, took one pace backwards, drew his 9mm pistol and held it in the firing position, aimed at me! It was obvious he was taking it seriously, I could see him faking the recoil (at least I hoped it was fake).
However, we completed the drop and returned to our hide in one of the Harrier HASs on the south side of the runway. I immediately got on the phone and asked what the policeman thought he was doing. A rapid "field enquiry" was held.
Apparently the policeman looked up at the helicopter, saw it had "E" on its nose panel and assumed this stood for "Enemy"!
So he shot me (had he done so, the Gazelle would have crash landed on his head).
Next day I decided to use the other Gazelle. This was "F" for friend......
Thought Lionheart was '79 - I was TA Movements then - 3 metre long signal arrived to effect that someone had discovered that resurfacing of German autobahn head reduce the clearance for high vehicles under motorway bridges, so each convoy was to be led by a Trabant with a 4.something metre pole to check bridge clearance. If clearance height not met, all the equipment was to be unloaded, driven under the bridge and reloaded!
Recovery of said exercise in '79 - LSLs arrived in East Coast port without drivers so Regular Movements Officer told us TA to drive off what we could manage but not to take risks. I selected a suitable small vehicle, but the regular major turned round to see a brand new 16 tonne truck being driven of by our most petite WRAC 2nd Lt. Lots of shouting and screaming, then she lowered the driver's window and sweetly presented her HGV 1 licence! Collapse of stout major.
Recovery of said exercise in '79 - LSLs arrived in East Coast port without drivers so Regular Movements Officer told us TA to drive off what we could manage but not to take risks. I selected a suitable small vehicle, but the regular major turned round to see a brand new 16 tonne truck being driven of by our most petite WRAC 2nd Lt. Lots of shouting and screaming, then she lowered the driver's window and sweetly presented her HGV 1 licence! Collapse of stout major.
Last edited by Wander00; 4th Aug 2013 at 09:48.
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We used to do Red Cans. Like Ogre we hammed it up a bit.
The Captain, the late Pete Binstead of SAR fame, used to collect a load of belly pork, blood and guts from his local butcher. That went down well with the USAF.
My favourite was a mouthful of mixed veg and stew. It overcame the language barrier if they managed to find a Russian interpreter.
On one visit our Tacco had some Russian magazines with what would have been NATO Secret diagrams and explanations for Allied underwater sensors. The one for Sosus was particularly interesting as was the bit about convergence zone detection. The Spams went harpic when they found these
The Captain, the late Pete Binstead of SAR fame, used to collect a load of belly pork, blood and guts from his local butcher. That went down well with the USAF.
My favourite was a mouthful of mixed veg and stew. It overcame the language barrier if they managed to find a Russian interpreter.
On one visit our Tacco had some Russian magazines with what would have been NATO Secret diagrams and explanations for Allied underwater sensors. The one for Sosus was particularly interesting as was the bit about convergence zone detection. The Spams went harpic when they found these
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Lionheart, went out to a HAS and found some visiting guy inside doing a B/F in total darkness with just a dim torch as no one had shown them where the light switches etc were and when he found the panel it was all in German lol..
We only played a couple of days, but some of the armourers managed to get evacuated on a CASEVAC train and were gone for days... They were not impressed
There was a German conscript dropped off to guard a bridge and forgotten about, eventually he had eaten all his rations and the locals were feeding him, after a couple of weeks one of them called the German military to complain... An oops moment occurred and people's were sent out to collect the misplaced conscript who when recovered found out not only had the exercise ended weeks ago, they had posted him AWOL
..
We only played a couple of days, but some of the armourers managed to get evacuated on a CASEVAC train and were gone for days... They were not impressed
There was a German conscript dropped off to guard a bridge and forgotten about, eventually he had eaten all his rations and the locals were feeding him, after a couple of weeks one of them called the German military to complain... An oops moment occurred and people's were sent out to collect the misplaced conscript who when recovered found out not only had the exercise ended weeks ago, they had posted him AWOL
..
Last edited by NutLoose; 4th Aug 2013 at 10:25.
Called across to the comcen were the PBX was out due to a near miss. DISTAFF had hung a severed 6million core cable up for the BDR team to deal with. I assessed the job and handed over to the lads who promptly put the radio on to ease their afternoon. The demeanour of the DISTAFF member changed with each news report and in the end he looked at me and said - Thats me f@@@@ed then.. before explaining that in the course of the afternoon his mortgage repayments had risen to over £1000 a month. It was the day we came out of the ERM and interest rates rose by 3% in a matter of hours. I dont think I ever met a TACEVAL staff member less interested in what we were doing!
Last edited by AR1; 4th Aug 2013 at 11:32.
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This is apocryphal, but there may be a grain of truth somewhere in there:
TACEVAL, dogwatch 0400 hrs, all is quiet, nothing has happened for hours. Suddenly Stornos* all over the station crackle into life and announce "I'm bored", a few seconds later a different voice transmits "so am I" and then another "me too".
Next, in a very authoritative tone comes "THIS IS THE COC ALL PERSONNEL ARE TO MAINTAIN RADIO DISCIPLINE AT ALL TIMES"
Five second pause, then "but I'm still bored"
Immediately "WHO MADE THAT TRANSMISSION?"
"Well I'm not that bored".
Rgds SOS
*Wombat. These were ground radio hand sets we used to be issued with; cost a stupid amount of money and never worked that well.
TACEVAL, dogwatch 0400 hrs, all is quiet, nothing has happened for hours. Suddenly Stornos* all over the station crackle into life and announce "I'm bored", a few seconds later a different voice transmits "so am I" and then another "me too".
Next, in a very authoritative tone comes "THIS IS THE COC ALL PERSONNEL ARE TO MAINTAIN RADIO DISCIPLINE AT ALL TIMES"
Five second pause, then "but I'm still bored"
Immediately "WHO MADE THAT TRANSMISSION?"
"Well I'm not that bored".
Rgds SOS
*Wombat. These were ground radio hand sets we used to be issued with; cost a stupid amount of money and never worked that well.
Last edited by SOSL; 4th Aug 2013 at 11:40.
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*Wombat. These were ground radio hand sets we used to be issued with; cost a stupid amount of money and never worked that well.
..
Last edited by NutLoose; 4th Aug 2013 at 12:13.
Ah yes, the Storno. That wonderful device - a 2 handed walkie-talkie. Unless attached to your clothing, you needed on hand to hold the thing and another to hold the microphone / speaker. Batteries last minutes, because they trickle charged the things and never gave them a deep discharge / recharge....
Gas masks, or rather 'respirators' were a PITA! But on one occasion I was running an Ops desk on shift with an ex-Victor person one rank higher, who didn't lift a finger but kept the DISTAFF bored with his tales of Victor times. Then the hotlocks arrived - he generously offered to keep an ear on the phones whilst I went to fetch them. I brought them to the crewroom, then "Have yours, then get back on the desk" was his instruction. Plated up my breakfast, blasted it in the microwave for 30 sec, then scoffed it....a couple of seconds before Air Raid Red was called. Into our S10s - he could only watch as his breakfast slowly congealed. But the smile on the face of the DISTAFF said it all - "Serves the lazy bugger right!".
Gas masks, or rather 'respirators' were a PITA! But on one occasion I was running an Ops desk on shift with an ex-Victor person one rank higher, who didn't lift a finger but kept the DISTAFF bored with his tales of Victor times. Then the hotlocks arrived - he generously offered to keep an ear on the phones whilst I went to fetch them. I brought them to the crewroom, then "Have yours, then get back on the desk" was his instruction. Plated up my breakfast, blasted it in the microwave for 30 sec, then scoffed it....a couple of seconds before Air Raid Red was called. Into our S10s - he could only watch as his breakfast slowly congealed. But the smile on the face of the DISTAFF said it all - "Serves the lazy bugger right!".
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SOSL,
An alternative ending I've heard goes; "I said I was bored, not stupid."
Taceval Leauchars early '90s. For the third exercise in a row a lad called Fitz who was a wannabe Rock (takes all sorts!) turns up at the PBF. Knowing he always plays the part of a deranged airman he swiftly gets told "F*ck off Fitz!"
Eventually, it's decided we have to let him in so we can go through the rigmarole of him presenting false credentials/ waving a grenade about/pulling a pistol out or whatever the order of the day is.
So we let him into the airlock, lock all the doors and go back to sleep.
Half an hour later we unlock the outer door and he bimbles off sheepishly with "Now f*ck off Fitz!" ringing in his ears.
An alternative ending I've heard goes; "I said I was bored, not stupid."
Taceval Leauchars early '90s. For the third exercise in a row a lad called Fitz who was a wannabe Rock (takes all sorts!) turns up at the PBF. Knowing he always plays the part of a deranged airman he swiftly gets told "F*ck off Fitz!"
Eventually, it's decided we have to let him in so we can go through the rigmarole of him presenting false credentials/ waving a grenade about/pulling a pistol out or whatever the order of the day is.
So we let him into the airlock, lock all the doors and go back to sleep.
Half an hour later we unlock the outer door and he bimbles off sheepishly with "Now f*ck off Fitz!" ringing in his ears.
Last edited by Tashengurt; 4th Aug 2013 at 12:03.
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ISK, mid-70s, a dozen or more Nimrods on survival scramble (simulated).
We were fully rationed for 9 hrs+ but instead of launching we taxied around back to dispersal where we sat, doors closed, while the station carried on playing war games (or rather the Rock was applying the Blue Met).
Presently, "Can we open the rations after all we are flying?" NO.
Later, "We're starving, can we open the rations?" You may use the tea, coffee and dried milk. No food.
Elsewhere, "Munch munch . . . "
You are not to eat the rations.
"Munch, munch munch . . . "
We were fully rationed for 9 hrs+ but instead of launching we taxied around back to dispersal where we sat, doors closed, while the station carried on playing war games (or rather the Rock was applying the Blue Met).
Presently, "Can we open the rations after all we are flying?" NO.
Later, "We're starving, can we open the rations?" You may use the tea, coffee and dried milk. No food.
Elsewhere, "Munch munch . . . "
You are not to eat the rations.
"Munch, munch munch . . . "
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SOSL the other take on that is 'I'm a happy bear' followed by several other transmissions of 'I'm a happy bear too' followed by the inevitable on air bollocking, followed by 'He's not a happy bear'...
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Thanks for the alternative versions. I told you all it was apocryphal! But it's still a good story - ain't it?
Rgds SOS
Rgds SOS
Last edited by SOSL; 4th Aug 2013 at 12:30. Reason: punct
Organising MINEVAL injects gave much scope for creativity! One of my best was to brief an Ops Cpl to play the part of a disaffected JNCO.... In those days, everyone brought their NBC kit along to war in a variety of 'sports bags', there being no official bag provided except for the S10 case.
So my Cpl took a 'bomb' into the main Ops room, then acted in a dull, lethargic manner. Trouble was, he was normally such a miserable sod that it took people a while to recognise that he was an inject..... Standby Ops weren't expecting to take over at 10 min after Startex, but the Stn Cdr thought it was an excellent ploy!
I also arranged for the Reds to overfly at 10:30, some 30 min after a 'defector' Canberra incident was supposed to have ended. But the Stn made such a bolleaux of the Canberra incident ("No, sorry, we can't get Mrs Thatcher on the phone!") that it was still going on when the Reds rotted up the place from various directions, trailing red white and blue smoke. The Canberra mates ad-libbed superbly, one of them pinching an S10 from one of their 'guards' who was watching the Reds, while another started twitching and writhing about in pretend nerve gas poisoned agony... Down in the COC, the Stn Cdr turned to his minions and asked for the Chemical Attack section of the Station War Plan.
"Err, can't find it, sir"...
"FIND IT!"
"Isn't one, sir. No chemical threat against the UK.....apparently"
"SO...I...SEE!"
Of course there wasn't anything in the Stn War Plan! As I well knew when plotting the inject - but I also knew that the following WINTEX would certainly include a chemical attack.... But some of the ex-RAFG folk masked up correctly, other people hadn't a clue.... I had to close the incident fairly quickly, because things were turning to rat$hit and we needed to get on with launching the jets for some pre-planned targets. But what fun it was!
What was rather more worrying was that I'd told Neatishead exactly when and from which direction the Reds were coming - they'd been in RAFG over the weekend. But they weren't seen, even though I'd made sure that a suitable CAP had been manned....
So my Cpl took a 'bomb' into the main Ops room, then acted in a dull, lethargic manner. Trouble was, he was normally such a miserable sod that it took people a while to recognise that he was an inject..... Standby Ops weren't expecting to take over at 10 min after Startex, but the Stn Cdr thought it was an excellent ploy!
I also arranged for the Reds to overfly at 10:30, some 30 min after a 'defector' Canberra incident was supposed to have ended. But the Stn made such a bolleaux of the Canberra incident ("No, sorry, we can't get Mrs Thatcher on the phone!") that it was still going on when the Reds rotted up the place from various directions, trailing red white and blue smoke. The Canberra mates ad-libbed superbly, one of them pinching an S10 from one of their 'guards' who was watching the Reds, while another started twitching and writhing about in pretend nerve gas poisoned agony... Down in the COC, the Stn Cdr turned to his minions and asked for the Chemical Attack section of the Station War Plan.
"Err, can't find it, sir"...
"FIND IT!"
"Isn't one, sir. No chemical threat against the UK.....apparently"
"SO...I...SEE!"
Of course there wasn't anything in the Stn War Plan! As I well knew when plotting the inject - but I also knew that the following WINTEX would certainly include a chemical attack.... But some of the ex-RAFG folk masked up correctly, other people hadn't a clue.... I had to close the incident fairly quickly, because things were turning to rat$hit and we needed to get on with launching the jets for some pre-planned targets. But what fun it was!
What was rather more worrying was that I'd told Neatishead exactly when and from which direction the Reds were coming - they'd been in RAFG over the weekend. But they weren't seen, even though I'd made sure that a suitable CAP had been manned....
Now then Gents... The Pye Stornophone was fit for purpose. The purpose not being holding the handset and twirling the radio around your head... A body harness was available on demand, mask attachments an a throat mike.. I acknowledge the discharge issue and some GRSS made our own until they became available through service channels.
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Famous Lincolnshire Real Bomber Station, early 80s, Part 2 TACEVAL.
ATC has acquired a small menagerie of animals, as some singlies live off-base in private accommodation and couldn't abandon their pets for 3 days. Cue typical Air Raid, everyone suited and masked up, All Clear sounds. Under the watchful eye of the TACEVAL Evaluator, it's time for a sniff test outside the door before reporting in to the WOC and eventually unmasking as NBC White.
Cue Cpl (W) Lorna D ... SATCO requests she poke her gerbil, in its cage, outside the door to see if it dies.
TACEVAL Evaluator does genuine LOL, and admits that's a new one on him. Lorna is pi**ed off that her gerbil might have died for Queen and Country, and does an excellent "exercise sulk" by refusing to provide SATCO with coffee for the rest of the day
It was a happy Tower. Cheers
ATC has acquired a small menagerie of animals, as some singlies live off-base in private accommodation and couldn't abandon their pets for 3 days. Cue typical Air Raid, everyone suited and masked up, All Clear sounds. Under the watchful eye of the TACEVAL Evaluator, it's time for a sniff test outside the door before reporting in to the WOC and eventually unmasking as NBC White.
Cue Cpl (W) Lorna D ... SATCO requests she poke her gerbil, in its cage, outside the door to see if it dies.
TACEVAL Evaluator does genuine LOL, and admits that's a new one on him. Lorna is pi**ed off that her gerbil might have died for Queen and Country, and does an excellent "exercise sulk" by refusing to provide SATCO with coffee for the rest of the day
It was a happy Tower. Cheers
DI staff on the Jump Seat mentions that we have just been hit by a SAM and we have lost number 4 engine and the B system hydraulics. "No problem" says we, "we're diverting to the nearest suitable alternate". So we land at Waddington where it transpires we have now developed a real snag (yes we did - honest!) which prevented us returning to the TACEVAL fun and games at home base. Our engineers can't come and fix us because they're all required for some essential guarding duties. So we spend two days in the pub while we wait for the recovery team.
DI staff didn't complain either!
DI staff didn't complain either!
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Wombat, just a few additions to NutLoose's list:
NODUFF - Not thought up by some over-promoted pr.ck at Group HQ.
IRT - Incident/Immediate Response Team.
NMSU - Nimrod Major Servicing Unit.
RTU - Return To Unit
Rgds SOS
NODUFF - Not thought up by some over-promoted pr.ck at Group HQ.
IRT - Incident/Immediate Response Team.
NMSU - Nimrod Major Servicing Unit.
RTU - Return To Unit
Rgds SOS