A Weather-Guesser's Memories with the RAF
"A weather house is a folk art device in the shape of a small German or Alpine chalet that indicates the weather. A typical weather house has two doors side by side. The left side has a girl or woman, the right side a boy or man. The female figure comes out of the house when the weather is sunny and dry, while the male (often carrying an umbrella) comes out to indicate rain."
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Fascinating stuff. My chums and I became quite pally with our lecturer at the "College of Knowledge". He bemoaned the fact that no longer getting shift allowance, downsizing from East Anglian bliss to a Thames Valley shoe-box and the severe disruption to his family life were having some quite serious effects on his domestic happiness. Being slightly skilled in predicting the future, we read our tea-leaves and developed an unnatural interest in the job pages of the broadsheets.
I was often under the impression that Met O.10 (HR in civvy speak) hated everyone else. An SO colleague with absolutely no HR qualifications nor interest in his charges, was moved there to look after all ASO staff. A more ill-suited individual would be impossible to imagine.
I was often under the impression that Met O.10 (HR in civvy speak) hated everyone else. An SO colleague with absolutely no HR qualifications nor interest in his charges, was moved there to look after all ASO staff. A more ill-suited individual would be impossible to imagine.
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I AM WEATHERDOG KATIE. IF I GO BACK WET = RAIN; WHITE = SNOW; DUSTY = SANDSTORM; RUFFLED = GALE; LOST = FOG.
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Fond Memories
WIDN62 mentioned the Lyneham station magazine - Lyhneham Globe - which featured an article entitled "The 10 most useless things to have on a flightdeck".Nos 2 and 3 derided met forecasts. Many, however, will remember the "Rompers Green" saga which featured in the Globe. It eventually ran to 52 parts over almost 5 years in which Chas Finn-Kelcey
managed to be rude about every section on the Station, Group and Command HQ and almost every destination we ever flew to around the World. Its relevance to this blog can be found in the very first episode attached which, I am sure, will strike a chord with many contributors here.
managed to be rude about every section on the Station, Group and Command HQ and almost every destination we ever flew to around the World. Its relevance to this blog can be found in the very first episode attached which, I am sure, will strike a chord with many contributors here.
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Met Men (or should I now say people?) - as I can't think of any alliterative term for both sexes to please the 'woke inspectors'.
Most enjoyable read of all these reminiscences from LB and other contribtors.
They say that there is no other job in the world where you can be wrong so often and yet still keep your job, as that of a Met Man. Be that as it may it was always a pleasure visiting the Met Offices down route and getting the verbal person-to-person wx briefings eastwards to Kai Tak and south to Gib too.
Just one 21st century question now........ The USA is probably the only country in the world still using Fahrenheit and even they went over to Celsius for aviation, a long while back...... (was it in the nineties?)
My question is, why oh why, do certain tv and radio Beeb weather presenters still persist in giving out fahrenheit temperatures in their broadcasts? Don't tell me it's for oldies who never converted when we went metric in the UK in about 1972. Even I learnt celsius/centigrade when educated back in the sixties. Presumably that classifies me as an 'oldy'? And .....
adding another Victor Meldrew whinge, why do they waste valuable seconds in their broadcasts telling us what the weather has been like earlier that day when, if we are still alive and breathing , we know already? It's like knowing how much fuel you've used, rather than concentrating on how much you've got left.
Most enjoyable read of all these reminiscences from LB and other contribtors.
They say that there is no other job in the world where you can be wrong so often and yet still keep your job, as that of a Met Man. Be that as it may it was always a pleasure visiting the Met Offices down route and getting the verbal person-to-person wx briefings eastwards to Kai Tak and south to Gib too.
Just one 21st century question now........ The USA is probably the only country in the world still using Fahrenheit and even they went over to Celsius for aviation, a long while back...... (was it in the nineties?)
My question is, why oh why, do certain tv and radio Beeb weather presenters still persist in giving out fahrenheit temperatures in their broadcasts? Don't tell me it's for oldies who never converted when we went metric in the UK in about 1972. Even I learnt celsius/centigrade when educated back in the sixties. Presumably that classifies me as an 'oldy'? And .....
adding another Victor Meldrew whinge, why do they waste valuable seconds in their broadcasts telling us what the weather has been like earlier that day when, if we are still alive and breathing , we know already? It's like knowing how much fuel you've used, rather than concentrating on how much you've got left.
Last edited by RubiC Cube; 12th Apr 2024 at 20:56. Reason: Error
In the late ‘70s, we had a very good Meto at Güt who had two lovely daughters - and went on to gain stardom on the TV. On one Friday afternoon, he rang the Squadron and advised an immediate stack to the bar. This we duly did and 30mins later there was a half-inch of ice over everything and the tops breaking off tall trees. No one could get into their cars, which were then covered in a foot of snow, so we had to remain in the bar for hours! First time I had seen rain ice - and it didn’t melt for a week. The roads were absolute carnage until the gritters managed to get out.
On another occasion, I asked said Meto what he would consider to be a good forecast. He thought for a second and said “about 40% correct”. It was pointed out that we might be better to invert the complete forecast - something he readily acknowledged!
Mog
On another occasion, I asked said Meto what he would consider to be a good forecast. He thought for a second and said “about 40% correct”. It was pointed out that we might be better to invert the complete forecast - something he readily acknowledged!
Mog
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The best forecast I ever received directly from a forecaster was when I was learning to glide at Dunstable. I was sent to phone the local Met Office to ask them if the rain was going to stop. "It always has up to now" he said.
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Continuing the stone theme... When I flew with the RAE Gliding Club in the mid-80s, the duty pilot had to get a forecast by ringing a number on the (presumably military network) Stonehenge exchange. I was disappointed that it was never answered by the duty druid.
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Rheindahlen Two
The Berlin Wall fell on 9th November 1989, causing us great anxiety because I had not yet received my posting from Cardiff and it was easy to imagine the job being downgraded rapidly. As it happened, my unstated task was to orchestrate the retreat from Germany whilst keeping the customer and the staff as contented as possible. Duly posted, we drove out with no offspring; it was like a second honeymoon, doubly good because the ex-officio MQ was in Portadown Way. This was opposite our Rheindahlen One home of all those years ago. My line manager was SASO, Tiger Tim, an extraordinary charismatic character much given to personal risk-taking and falling off or out of all manner of objects. RAF Wildenrath was soon nominated for the chop, to leave Laarbruch, Bruggen, Gutersloh and AAC Detmold. The Main Met. Office at JHQ had long been closed and Bruggen had taken over some of its role with a little built-in generous staffing. This meant that exigencies could be covered rapidly without recourse to pleading with Bracknell for help.
C Met. O had George P. as ‘Met. One’. I knew George from the long ago Gatwick days and he had made good contacts with everyone in JHQ and the support units who mattered. These included the MT WO, the Mess Manager and the Petrol Coupons Officer. George was the ultimate fixer. He agree with my way of dealing with bumpf. We got rid of pending trays, just had IN and OUT. It took a couple of months’ hard work to reach that state of grace, thereafter it served us well.
HQ Strike had taken over the SigWx task, and the numerical products were very useful, provided new staff listened to the collective wisdoms.
There was an annual AFCENT Met. Conference, hosted in turn by UK, USA, Canada, France [yes] and Germany. The recurring theme was interoperability and standardisation, a lost cause. I am told the Ladies’ Programmes were more productive.
The Gulf War was soon upon us, and we produced climate briefs. From what I subsequently learned the emphasis on how cold the nights could be, and how destructive of equipment the sandy wind would be, were not taken on board. Bruggen and Detmold were very busy and deserved a lot of praise.
German reunification October 1990 was ‘celebrated’ at a big mess event, but the German guests were already counting the cost and the celebrations were muted. The autobahnen were suddenly populated by tatty old car transporters carrying tatty old Trabbies westwards as curios, and returning east with second-hand Mercs and BMWs
We attended St Boniface Church, one of three on the station. There was a standing joke about persecution of the Christians, in that there were often Mess events the night before, and many cycled to church next morning. The German Police, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, had jurisdiction and were enthusiastically aided by the redcaps in breathalysing cyclists. It was said that cyclists over the limit could lose their driving licence.
‘Sir Wilson’ [sic] arrives.
The Berlin Wall fell on 9th November 1989, causing us great anxiety because I had not yet received my posting from Cardiff and it was easy to imagine the job being downgraded rapidly. As it happened, my unstated task was to orchestrate the retreat from Germany whilst keeping the customer and the staff as contented as possible. Duly posted, we drove out with no offspring; it was like a second honeymoon, doubly good because the ex-officio MQ was in Portadown Way. This was opposite our Rheindahlen One home of all those years ago. My line manager was SASO, Tiger Tim, an extraordinary charismatic character much given to personal risk-taking and falling off or out of all manner of objects. RAF Wildenrath was soon nominated for the chop, to leave Laarbruch, Bruggen, Gutersloh and AAC Detmold. The Main Met. Office at JHQ had long been closed and Bruggen had taken over some of its role with a little built-in generous staffing. This meant that exigencies could be covered rapidly without recourse to pleading with Bracknell for help.
C Met. O had George P. as ‘Met. One’. I knew George from the long ago Gatwick days and he had made good contacts with everyone in JHQ and the support units who mattered. These included the MT WO, the Mess Manager and the Petrol Coupons Officer. George was the ultimate fixer. He agree with my way of dealing with bumpf. We got rid of pending trays, just had IN and OUT. It took a couple of months’ hard work to reach that state of grace, thereafter it served us well.
HQ Strike had taken over the SigWx task, and the numerical products were very useful, provided new staff listened to the collective wisdoms.
There was an annual AFCENT Met. Conference, hosted in turn by UK, USA, Canada, France [yes] and Germany. The recurring theme was interoperability and standardisation, a lost cause. I am told the Ladies’ Programmes were more productive.
The Gulf War was soon upon us, and we produced climate briefs. From what I subsequently learned the emphasis on how cold the nights could be, and how destructive of equipment the sandy wind would be, were not taken on board. Bruggen and Detmold were very busy and deserved a lot of praise.
German reunification October 1990 was ‘celebrated’ at a big mess event, but the German guests were already counting the cost and the celebrations were muted. The autobahnen were suddenly populated by tatty old car transporters carrying tatty old Trabbies westwards as curios, and returning east with second-hand Mercs and BMWs
We attended St Boniface Church, one of three on the station. There was a standing joke about persecution of the Christians, in that there were often Mess events the night before, and many cycled to church next morning. The German Police, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, had jurisdiction and were enthusiastically aided by the redcaps in breathalysing cyclists. It was said that cyclists over the limit could lose their driving licence.
‘Sir Wilson’ [sic] arrives.
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Congratulations, LB, on doing the impossible -- ie following in the footsteps of our immortal Danny42C with your fascinating tales interspersed by many anecdotes and those of your contemporaries. My father (RAF 1936-1962) was responsible for having the 202 Sqn Hastings ready for the 0800 Bismuth ex Aldergrove, for its eight-hour flight on one of four different routes depending on your Met requirements. We sometimes wondered what you did with all the info so painstakingly gathered -- now we know!
Thank you, and keep it coming.
Thank you, and keep it coming.
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LB: I've been waiting for you to reach the 'Sir Wilson' era ... for I was there too, to the end of RAFG and into HQ 2 Group, and will be interested to hear what you have to say.
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Congratulations, LB, on doing the impossible -- ie following in the footsteps of our immortal Danny42C with your fascinating tales interspersed by many anecdotes and those of your contemporaries. My father (RAF 1936-1962) was responsible for having the 202 Sqn Hastings ready for the 0800 Bismuth ex Aldergrove, for its eight-hour flight on one of four different routes depending on your Met requirements. We sometimes wondered what you did with all the info so painstakingly gathered -- now we know!
Thank you, and keep it coming.
Thank you, and keep it coming.
Here follow some asides on marches in and out.
Marching In/ Out.
My first march out [no wives allowed to be present] was from Comet Crescent Nicosia soon after Bloody Christmas 1963/4. The little family had already been flown out to Lyneham, so the fine detail stuff was not performed by me……. I was either working, sleeping or eating. Fortunately the Board was overworked, so no dental mirror and no white gloves. I was charged for a broken light fitting but they missed the broken bog seat mended with Araldite. I feel a little guilty: could the seat take the strain? Has some poor blighter been damaged down below?
The departure from Gutersloh was leisurely and our German batter helped a great deal……….. Joyce had four children under 10 to contend with. Anyone with an old German coke stove in the cellar will remember the rituals of delivery down the chute, with black dust everywhere. As an aside, I once delivered myself down the hole after a pleasant formal evening thrash. In the small hours I took a dram with my boss and staggered home to discover that I had no keys. Being dressed almost entirely in black, entry through the coke hole seemed the obvious solution, but the white shirt was something else.
Rumours of stressful march-outs involving cellars prompted me to attack the Gutersloh boiler fittings and copper pipes with Brasso. The man who took over the house was told that, when his turn came to leave, the cellar was to be like an operating theatre. All this is pantomime seen in hindsight, but deadly serious at the time.
Leaving Rheindahlen One was a doddle because families were allowed a few nights in Cassels House. Somehow the removers packed the hideous orange lounge seating covers, so we were charged for the loss by the Board and then had the dreadful stuff turn up in Beckingham.
Rheindahlen Two march-in was interesting because the Inventory showed that the early incumbents had been air commodores. C Met O was carefully seated above all the wing commanders and below all the group captains in my time, and air commodores had wallpaper!
Six good years later we left for ever, with rather more impedimenta than the Queen would pay to ship home: white goods and a lot of German and Dutch furniture. The packers would indeed like a few bottles of this and that, and the furniture shrunk to fill the allotted space.
One last thing. Several of my outstation staff behaved disgracefully on march-out, such that “bloody civilians” or “sodding Met. men” left quarters like a pig stye. This despite very clear advice about conforming to service norms in exchange for great good experiences. Beyond apologising, all I could do was ensure that the cards were marked DO NOT POST ABROAD AGAIN.
Last edited by langleybaston; 14th Apr 2024 at 19:35. Reason: for sh1t read shot
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Still editing!
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Just to add a bit for LB. When I was at Lossie Sir W was Staish and I recall once having to to let Sir W in to meet a VIP during a Minival as he'd forgotten the password and the guard has stopped him from entering the dispersal. When I was in MOD there was a saying that if Sir W went to the top floor and jumped out of a window you'd better follow him as he was bound to be onto something good!
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“Sir Wilson” and the latter days at JHQ.
Wiki tells us that Sandy Wilson arrived to be A O C in C in 1991, and I need Wiki to tell me who preceded him, because in those two years I never met that earlier man nor indeed heard reference to him. When I arrived I was interviewed by his Deputy, and never saw that officer again.
Wilson was totally different, and it is true that he upset a fair number of people with his management style. It is also true that he had admirers, me included. Within his first week in command he had visited many [if not all] branches and sections in the main building, with a hard-worked ADC and staff in tow. He asked the Heads of Branches [HoBs] what was their main problem of the moment and sought prompt action. He caused the public clocks to be synchronised ……. Hitherto time/space was warped in the building; A to B could take several minutes, or several minus minutes. We were left in no doubt that there was a firm hand on the joystick, perhaps sometimes unfair, sometimes fair. I speak as I find.
Very early on there was big official gathering [in a sports stadium?] of the NATO great and good. It was Wilson’s first big public outing. The German PA announcer stumbled by introducing him as “Sir Wilson” to ill-disguised sniggering by the Brit minions.
HoBs meetings were sometimes fraught, woe betide the ill-prepared Gp Capt summoned to brief. I recall that one such was ordered to send his Wg Cdr in his place next time. Weekly in-house briefings were instituted, my duty man at Bruggen giving Met. over a speaker link. The room became crowded, so Wilson decreed that anyone junior to Sqn Ldr should leave: "it smells like a zoo!"
Sir Andrew [as he became known] was very visible, and RAFG was left in no doubt about standards demanded. I prefer a tight ship, and that is what I observed.
While some recollections may vary, Met. was content.
On the subject of weather and climate, the annual in-house sweepstake continued and it demonstrated [I do not say proved] climate change. The winning ticket was the date when snow [of any amount] fell at any RAFG Met. office. In my youth a ticket with very late October or early November was a likely winner. In 1995 late November was not unusual. Detmold was trialling NVG equipment and the Harrier Force kept us busy with field deployments. At this stage it is necessary to deal with the Mobile Met. Unit [MMU], of which I was not a member but not uninvolved.
Any Port for the MMU
Wiki tells us that Sandy Wilson arrived to be A O C in C in 1991, and I need Wiki to tell me who preceded him, because in those two years I never met that earlier man nor indeed heard reference to him. When I arrived I was interviewed by his Deputy, and never saw that officer again.
Wilson was totally different, and it is true that he upset a fair number of people with his management style. It is also true that he had admirers, me included. Within his first week in command he had visited many [if not all] branches and sections in the main building, with a hard-worked ADC and staff in tow. He asked the Heads of Branches [HoBs] what was their main problem of the moment and sought prompt action. He caused the public clocks to be synchronised ……. Hitherto time/space was warped in the building; A to B could take several minutes, or several minus minutes. We were left in no doubt that there was a firm hand on the joystick, perhaps sometimes unfair, sometimes fair. I speak as I find.
Very early on there was big official gathering [in a sports stadium?] of the NATO great and good. It was Wilson’s first big public outing. The German PA announcer stumbled by introducing him as “Sir Wilson” to ill-disguised sniggering by the Brit minions.
HoBs meetings were sometimes fraught, woe betide the ill-prepared Gp Capt summoned to brief. I recall that one such was ordered to send his Wg Cdr in his place next time. Weekly in-house briefings were instituted, my duty man at Bruggen giving Met. over a speaker link. The room became crowded, so Wilson decreed that anyone junior to Sqn Ldr should leave: "it smells like a zoo!"
Sir Andrew [as he became known] was very visible, and RAFG was left in no doubt about standards demanded. I prefer a tight ship, and that is what I observed.
While some recollections may vary, Met. was content.
On the subject of weather and climate, the annual in-house sweepstake continued and it demonstrated [I do not say proved] climate change. The winning ticket was the date when snow [of any amount] fell at any RAFG Met. office. In my youth a ticket with very late October or early November was a likely winner. In 1995 late November was not unusual. Detmold was trialling NVG equipment and the Harrier Force kept us busy with field deployments. At this stage it is necessary to deal with the Mobile Met. Unit [MMU], of which I was not a member but not uninvolved.
Any Port for the MMU
Last edited by langleybaston; 14th Apr 2024 at 22:29. Reason: for sh1t read shot
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Jack
LB: Roger Palin was Sandy Wilson's predecessor as CinC RAFG. And like you, I had no difficulties with Sandy during his tour as CinC. Now, in the spirit of thread drift already in evidence here, perhaps I could add that I also had dealings with his wife. I was one of the living-in officers in the Mess and, early one year, I was approached by a living-in Scots colleague who said that Sandy wanted a very special Burns Night that year, that he had been appointed to ensure that happened, and that myself and a young lady from the Civil Secretariat (also a living-in Mess member) would be required to do a bit of singing as we were both members of the local Choral Society. Having said we'd be delighted, it emerged next day that Lady Wilson would be our accompanist and that we were summoned to The Residence for rehearsals. Having been warned by others that Lady W was a formidable woman, we duly pitched up as instructed, to find that this was as much an audition as a rehearsal. Suffice it to say that we passed the audition and were then extensively rehearsed in a couple of Burns' songs - I believe Lady Wilson had been a music teacher in her earlier years. Happily all went well on the night! I'd add in passing that Sandy's PSO was Stu Peach, a Nav, later to be come CDS and Chairman of the NATO Military Committee. By contrast, Sandy's progress after RAFG was, of course, blighted by the furore in the press that developed after his return to the UK as AMP.
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Good digression!
It awoke memories which I offer. Lady W. was indeed musical and was a member of the large and competent St Boniface Church choir. I had been a deputy for some time but was surprised to be asked to stand as "RAF Churchwarden" c. 1993. To explain, St B. was a busy and happy mid-stream C of E garrison church often with both an army padre and a RAF padre, and always with an Army and RAF Churchwarden and two Deputies ............ I think leave and weekends enjoying Europe meant that to have one person responsible for front of house needed at least four technically capable, unlocking the door, organising the sidesmen/women, putting up hymn numbers, preparing the chalice for communions, sorting the font for baptisms and sorting out minor crises like drunks at the Midnight Mass 24/25 December. And counting the offertory, of which more later.
When Air Cdre Thorne's successor [Thomson?] asked me to become the new RAF Warden I could only point out the obvious, that I was not RAF. The armed services being what they are, I expect suitable [ie senior] RAF people had turned it down. As it happens I loved the secondary duty and had a lot of fun provoking my army opposite number. Jim had been the army Warden for years.
Jim had completed all of my up-front job when I turned up for my first Sunday at 0930 for 1000, this despite my being house-trained. For the next duty I arrived earlier at 0925 .......... Jim had matters sorted. No words were exchanged. For my next duty when Jim arrived the recording of bells was playing, the lights were blazing, candles lit and hymn numbers up ............ at 0900. Jim was reduced to mumblings and sheepish grins, and we could all go quietly back to the Ceremony of the Keys at 0930.
Back to the subject: a Churchwarden, however incompetent or inappropriate, cannot sing in the choir, so I was able to enjoy the very good music from the back. The big occasions such as BoB, Remembrance and visiting Bishops were full house, and Sir W. was a good attender. As I recall there was a degree of segregation, in that the army tended to be seated on the right side, and RAF left.
As to counting the collection, someone out there was often 'avin a larf'. The congregation was very mixed nationality, Brits, a lot of USA, some Canada, a few Belgians and Dutch. The collection was mostly Deutschmarks, Sterling, some dollars and often other currencies. And often there was a small coin or a button wrapped in silver foil.
Any Port for the MMU can wait a day or two.
It awoke memories which I offer. Lady W. was indeed musical and was a member of the large and competent St Boniface Church choir. I had been a deputy for some time but was surprised to be asked to stand as "RAF Churchwarden" c. 1993. To explain, St B. was a busy and happy mid-stream C of E garrison church often with both an army padre and a RAF padre, and always with an Army and RAF Churchwarden and two Deputies ............ I think leave and weekends enjoying Europe meant that to have one person responsible for front of house needed at least four technically capable, unlocking the door, organising the sidesmen/women, putting up hymn numbers, preparing the chalice for communions, sorting the font for baptisms and sorting out minor crises like drunks at the Midnight Mass 24/25 December. And counting the offertory, of which more later.
When Air Cdre Thorne's successor [Thomson?] asked me to become the new RAF Warden I could only point out the obvious, that I was not RAF. The armed services being what they are, I expect suitable [ie senior] RAF people had turned it down. As it happens I loved the secondary duty and had a lot of fun provoking my army opposite number. Jim had been the army Warden for years.
Jim had completed all of my up-front job when I turned up for my first Sunday at 0930 for 1000, this despite my being house-trained. For the next duty I arrived earlier at 0925 .......... Jim had matters sorted. No words were exchanged. For my next duty when Jim arrived the recording of bells was playing, the lights were blazing, candles lit and hymn numbers up ............ at 0900. Jim was reduced to mumblings and sheepish grins, and we could all go quietly back to the Ceremony of the Keys at 0930.
Back to the subject: a Churchwarden, however incompetent or inappropriate, cannot sing in the choir, so I was able to enjoy the very good music from the back. The big occasions such as BoB, Remembrance and visiting Bishops were full house, and Sir W. was a good attender. As I recall there was a degree of segregation, in that the army tended to be seated on the right side, and RAF left.
As to counting the collection, someone out there was often 'avin a larf'. The congregation was very mixed nationality, Brits, a lot of USA, some Canada, a few Belgians and Dutch. The collection was mostly Deutschmarks, Sterling, some dollars and often other currencies. And often there was a small coin or a button wrapped in silver foil.
Any Port for the MMU can wait a day or two.
Last edited by langleybaston; 17th Apr 2024 at 15:53. Reason: for sh1t read shot
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What a bewildering rank structure within the CofE, LB. Were you above or below a Verger (can't think that anyone would be below Mr Yeatman though!)? Churchwardens, Sides-persons, Choristers, Organists within the lay camp. Curates, Chaplains, Padres, Vicars, Deacons, Canons, Deans, Bishops, Archbishops in the ordained one, though none necessarily in the right order, Sunshine! I suspect there are many more, though possibly some I list might be interlopers and not within the CofE anyway. At least the RAF sat on the Bride's side at St Boniface and I'm glad that in that congregation at least you were wholly adopted by the Service as part of it and its lay representative there.
I've always suspected that Sandy Wilson fell foul of RAF VSO politics and if so he wouldn't be the first by any means to do so. Curtains, no matter how ornate and costly, seem curious items to become a Cause Celebre. At one time it was almost a two horse race between him and John Thomson as to which would first make CAS. In the event neither did of course (JT dying tragically and suddenly in the aftermath of the Mull of Kintyre tragedy).
I've always suspected that Sandy Wilson fell foul of RAF VSO politics and if so he wouldn't be the first by any means to do so. Curtains, no matter how ornate and costly, seem curious items to become a Cause Celebre. At one time it was almost a two horse race between him and John Thomson as to which would first make CAS. In the event neither did of course (JT dying tragically and suddenly in the aftermath of the Mull of Kintyre tragedy).