Apocryphal Tales
CCF RAF Section camp at Tern Hill about 1960/61 ish. Impromptu game of football near some open vehicle sheds. Someone knocked over a foam fire extinguisher - Foam everywhere and the clean up took HOURS.
Same camp and we were on parade with the Station, must have been Saturday morning. Parade set off for the march past and they had put us cadets directly behind the senior officer, probably a wg cdr, as Parade Commander. He limped, amazingly. Turned out he had an artificial leg. Absolute disaster.
Same camp and we were on parade with the Station, must have been Saturday morning. Parade set off for the march past and they had put us cadets directly behind the senior officer, probably a wg cdr, as Parade Commander. He limped, amazingly. Turned out he had an artificial leg. Absolute disaster.
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Falklands 94, I was working in the Timmy hangar and we had a cat. It used to sleep on my computer monitor. Story had it that it came off a RN sub thereby earning it's name of 'Deeps'. It was the most spoiled cat in the southern hemisphere. I've always thought it was a bit of tall tale having a cat on a sub but at risk of humiliation for my lack of RN knowledge would there have been any possibility that it did actually come off a sub, maybe as a stowaway?
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Back in the early '70's streaking was all the rage.
BZN Sgt's mess bar was fairly crowded one night when, from a door at the far end a streaker suddenly appeared, with a brown paper bag over his head.
He dashed the length of the bar and was gone in a flash.
''Who the f***k was that?'' growled a grizzled old Chief.
''Well he wasn't from 99 Sqdn'' cried an attractive young female Loadie.
Silence, as questioning eyes all turned towards to her
BZN Sgt's mess bar was fairly crowded one night when, from a door at the far end a streaker suddenly appeared, with a brown paper bag over his head.
He dashed the length of the bar and was gone in a flash.
''Who the f***k was that?'' growled a grizzled old Chief.
''Well he wasn't from 99 Sqdn'' cried an attractive young female Loadie.
Silence, as questioning eyes all turned towards to her
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BRNC Dartmouth, late 70s or early 80s.
RM Colour Sergeant is drilling a squad of "internationals" on the parade ground and of course it's a complete shambles. Tick-tocking, out of step, turning the wrong way etc etc. Clr Sgt becoming quietly apoplectic. At the end of the detail he keeps them going for a few minutes to make them late and get the idle sods to run to their next assignment- when a WREN Officer Under Training walks by - and stops to watch, and laugh...
Clr Sgt halts his squad, turns on the unfortunate lass and in his best parade ground bellow observes, "I don't know what you're laughing at, Ma'am, you've only got one c*** to look after, I've got a whole squad of them"!
Unfortunately the Commander's window was open, and he was sitting at his desk.
The story goes that the poor old bootie was at the gate with his kitbag packed within the hour.
RM Colour Sergeant is drilling a squad of "internationals" on the parade ground and of course it's a complete shambles. Tick-tocking, out of step, turning the wrong way etc etc. Clr Sgt becoming quietly apoplectic. At the end of the detail he keeps them going for a few minutes to make them late and get the idle sods to run to their next assignment- when a WREN Officer Under Training walks by - and stops to watch, and laugh...
Clr Sgt halts his squad, turns on the unfortunate lass and in his best parade ground bellow observes, "I don't know what you're laughing at, Ma'am, you've only got one c*** to look after, I've got a whole squad of them"!
Unfortunately the Commander's window was open, and he was sitting at his desk.
The story goes that the poor old bootie was at the gate with his kitbag packed within the hour.
Wensleydale wrote:
Parking could be quite awkward outside the OM at Sunny Scampton in the late '70s. Naturally all the wheels, of which there were many, had their reserved slots. As, it seems, did the DOE District Works Office. Naturally we thought that such a very blunt civilian shouldn't have such a thing, so his sign kept disappearing and he would often find some aircrew mate's car in 'his' slot.
Complaints to the Stn Cdr had little effect, so one day we watched with interest as some workers turned up with a strong steel pole and a concrete mixer. A hole was dug, the concrete poured and The Blunt One's sign duly installed. We watched politely whilst this was going on......which should have rung alarm bells as it was clear that something was being planned.
As soon as the magnificent erection had hardened to such a state that nothing short of a near miss by a 1000 lb bomb would shift it, the plan was hatched. It was very simple; 'DOE DWO' was sprayed out and 'STN JFO' replaced it - it had become the Station Junior Flying Officer's private parking space!
But I gather that the Stn Cdr, having got rather fed up with the moans from The Blunt One wasting his time, decided "OK chaps - enough is enough" and the sign was soon restored to its original state.....
Not quite in the same league as the force-landed Shacklebomber crew in the disco, one day we diverted our Tin Triangle to Kinloss after a heavy snow storm had blacked most of Lincolnshire. No room on base, so we were in the local hotel with only our immersion suits. Which was a bit of a problem for the AEO (Col. S*g**y) as his own suit was in for servicing and the label on his chest said ' Spare - Sock size 7 '. We grabbed him and held him down whilst this was rapidly amended to ' Cock size 7" ', much to the amusement of the local 'ladies' in whichever pub we quaffed a little later that evening!
In a similar vein, the car parking spaces painted up for OC 50 Sqn and his execs at RAF Waddington were refreshed every year for AOCs, despite the Squadron not having been there for many years.
Complaints to the Stn Cdr had little effect, so one day we watched with interest as some workers turned up with a strong steel pole and a concrete mixer. A hole was dug, the concrete poured and The Blunt One's sign duly installed. We watched politely whilst this was going on......which should have rung alarm bells as it was clear that something was being planned.
As soon as the magnificent erection had hardened to such a state that nothing short of a near miss by a 1000 lb bomb would shift it, the plan was hatched. It was very simple; 'DOE DWO' was sprayed out and 'STN JFO' replaced it - it had become the Station Junior Flying Officer's private parking space!
But I gather that the Stn Cdr, having got rather fed up with the moans from The Blunt One wasting his time, decided "OK chaps - enough is enough" and the sign was soon restored to its original state.....
Not quite in the same league as the force-landed Shacklebomber crew in the disco, one day we diverted our Tin Triangle to Kinloss after a heavy snow storm had blacked most of Lincolnshire. No room on base, so we were in the local hotel with only our immersion suits. Which was a bit of a problem for the AEO (Col. S*g**y) as his own suit was in for servicing and the label on his chest said ' Spare - Sock size 7 '. We grabbed him and held him down whilst this was rapidly amended to ' Cock size 7" ', much to the amusement of the local 'ladies' in whichever pub we quaffed a little later that evening!
Gentleman Aviator
In the very late 60s - 68 or 69 - the baby pilot APO Teeters was a student at Linton or Syerston (for curious reasons I spent time at both).
One time one was Orderly Officer (OO) being "looked after" by a aged (at least 30!) Orderly Sergeant (OS). One of the later duties - maybe 2130 or so - said:
Draw Commcen keys from Guardroom, 'phone Commcen, go and check security etc. Which we duly did - except the 'phone call.
" But Sergeant - it clearly says 'phone first!"
"Trust me sir..............."
Now the Commcen (WRAF manned) was co-located with PBX (ditto),and was also where Duty WRAF hung out. About 5 girls in all, with 2 or 3 bunks (double or triple).
Now in those days, Airpersons' uniforms were made of blue blankets,known affectionally (NOT!) as "Hairy Blues". Which irritated exposed skin more than somewhat - so the girls had removed their skirts.
I should also add that this was before tights had gained general acceptance.
Net result: OO and OS confronted by 5 x Section Officer Harveys. (Poorer quality shirts, but good legs!)
Which explained the lack of a 'phone call. (Thank you Sergeant!). And they were in mid brew-up/fry-up.
"Oh hello Sir, fancy a brew and a bacon butty?" (I assure you nothing else was offered
)
A stitch up for the baby pilot for sure - but a most welcome one which I remember in detail.
Lucky BEags was up the road at The Towers - not sure he'd have survived the encounter.
One time one was Orderly Officer (OO) being "looked after" by a aged (at least 30!) Orderly Sergeant (OS). One of the later duties - maybe 2130 or so - said:
Draw Commcen keys from Guardroom, 'phone Commcen, go and check security etc. Which we duly did - except the 'phone call.
" But Sergeant - it clearly says 'phone first!"
"Trust me sir..............."
Now the Commcen (WRAF manned) was co-located with PBX (ditto),and was also where Duty WRAF hung out. About 5 girls in all, with 2 or 3 bunks (double or triple).
Now in those days, Airpersons' uniforms were made of blue blankets,known affectionally (NOT!) as "Hairy Blues". Which irritated exposed skin more than somewhat - so the girls had removed their skirts.
I should also add that this was before tights had gained general acceptance.
Net result: OO and OS confronted by 5 x Section Officer Harveys. (Poorer quality shirts, but good legs!)
Which explained the lack of a 'phone call. (Thank you Sergeant!). And they were in mid brew-up/fry-up.
"Oh hello Sir, fancy a brew and a bacon butty?" (I assure you nothing else was offered
)A stitch up for the baby pilot for sure - but a most welcome one which I remember in detail.
Lucky BEags was up the road at The Towers - not sure he'd have survived the encounter.
Syerston
Drove in to Syerston c.1972 .( Literally - a Triumph Spitfire just fitted under the Guard Room road barrier with an inch or so to spare.)
The Station was under C&M and it was a really weird experience.
Grass cut, everything immaculate, electricity humming away -and not a soul in sight.
Like something out of "Village of the Dammed"
The Station was under C&M and it was a really weird experience.
Grass cut, everything immaculate, electricity humming away -and not a soul in sight.
Like something out of "Village of the Dammed"
Lucky BEags was up the road at The Towers - not sure he'd have survived the encounter.
But (mandatory) Church attendance on Sundays was brightened considerably by the sight of the Ass. Cmdt's teenage daughter....
Beagle's Scampton story reminds me of Binbrook 80/81, stn cdr's residence had had a makeover at cost which would (with inflation, have stood comparison with a certain VSO's curtains (allegedly). Final flourish was a new nameplate for the house which was "Something" Manor. Within hours, various wg cdrs had conspied with PSA for additional nameplates at the other pre-war MQ - Lions Leap (OC LTF), Maple Manor (OC 5), Eagles' Eyrie (OC 11), etc. Stn Cdr very not amused.
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Think Syerston may be expanding - OC 2 FTS has many plans to build his Empire there.
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"Don't you normally salute officers?". A response of "Sorry, sir" didn't help...
I may have posted this before, but in the early-ish 60s there was a plan to introduce WRAF into some posts. ATC was chosen because it was away from the awful (sex starved) cadets. Meeting to discuss the plan was falling apart on the difficult problem of loos - only 2 in ATC - "Officers" and "Airmen". "OK," says SATCO, "we'll put a tent outside". "But squadron leader" says the Command WRAF Officer", my girls like permanent erections.
The story went at Guetersloh c. 1967 of a SNCOs Mess Fancy Dress Do, attended briefly by a sergeant on duty and therefore not in said dress.
When asked what he was attending as, he pulled his trouser pockets inside out and said "an elephant!".
"Elephants have trunks!"
"I can soon fix that!"
and did ......................
When asked what he was attending as, he pulled his trouser pockets inside out and said "an elephant!".
"Elephants have trunks!"
"I can soon fix that!"
and did ......................
A shame that the OM has long since disappeared at Syerston. But the new A46 dual carriageway is very welcome indeed. Apart, that is, from the ridiculous junctions at the Newark end.
Those rampant WRAFs knew very well that it was strengstens verboten for baby pilots to 'become involved', so would tease us mercilessly. During the ULAS Summer Camp at Abingdon in 1973, as I'd already passed my PFB I didn't get much flying, so was stuck on the Ops Desk phone for most of the time, getting hourly weather actuals etc. from the Air Traffic assistants. One chirpy little WRAF became a 'phone friend' as she was often on duty; she asked if she could come over after work to see what we all did. So I readily agreed and one afternoon this very pretty little lass turned up in a short summer dress with rather a low neckline. And not much else.......as became abundantly clear when she bent forward to peer into the cockpit of a Chipmunk, 'innocently' looking up at me with big round eyes asking if I knew what everything was for.....
Someone must have told the grown-ups that this naughty little wench had paid us a visit, because next day we were given The Word about 'fraternising with airwomen'
....and the career-limiting consequences.....
Those rampant WRAFs knew very well that it was strengstens verboten for baby pilots to 'become involved', so would tease us mercilessly. During the ULAS Summer Camp at Abingdon in 1973, as I'd already passed my PFB I didn't get much flying, so was stuck on the Ops Desk phone for most of the time, getting hourly weather actuals etc. from the Air Traffic assistants. One chirpy little WRAF became a 'phone friend' as she was often on duty; she asked if she could come over after work to see what we all did. So I readily agreed and one afternoon this very pretty little lass turned up in a short summer dress with rather a low neckline. And not much else....
...as became abundantly clear when she bent forward to peer into the cockpit of a Chipmunk, 'innocently' looking up at me with big round eyes asking if I knew what everything was for.....Someone must have told the grown-ups that this naughty little wench had paid us a visit, because next day we were given The Word about 'fraternising with airwomen'
....and the career-limiting consequences.....
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In the 1970s, Linton on Ouse possessed a couple of very rudimentary instrument navigation trainers for the Jet Provost - not a proper simulator but it allowed one to navigate a route while flying on instruments. When not in formal use, student pilots could ring the operator of this facility and book it for a short session of check-list training etc.
Unfortunately, an edition of the Linton phone directory was published with a couple of the digits incorrectly swapped around, mistakenly giving the phone extension for a WRAF officer in SHQ. Feel sorry for APO Bloggs who innocently rang the number, failed to register that it was, unusually, a female voice at the other end and when trying to reserve the "Type Instrument Trainer" (as it was called) blurted out "Can I book one of your TITS for 30 minutes this afternoon please?".
The offending equipment was renamed the "Jet Provost Instrument Trainer" (J-PIT) shortly afterwards.
Unfortunately, an edition of the Linton phone directory was published with a couple of the digits incorrectly swapped around, mistakenly giving the phone extension for a WRAF officer in SHQ. Feel sorry for APO Bloggs who innocently rang the number, failed to register that it was, unusually, a female voice at the other end and when trying to reserve the "Type Instrument Trainer" (as it was called) blurted out "Can I book one of your TITS for 30 minutes this afternoon please?".
The offending equipment was renamed the "Jet Provost Instrument Trainer" (J-PIT) shortly afterwards.
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Young SAC I knew was put on a charge after a WRAF officer had done something to annoy him. He told her, with some justification it has to be said, that 'You need f****** with the rough end of a pineapple Ma'am.'
Apparently the charge room went all subdued tittering as the charge was read out...
Apparently the charge room went all subdued tittering as the charge was read out...
Talking of young ladies at The Towers reminds me (63-65 time) of the stunningly pretty daughter of Padre C..K. A couple of years after I graduated I went to see my cousin in Northwood - who was with with said stunningly pretty young woman. He said that his mother had yet to discover that she was left keep the flat (or somewhere) warm on a Sunday morning, whilst he went and drove his mother to Northwood Methodist Church
The unamused Binbrook staish in 80/81 would have been, I think, Bob Barcilon?