Summer Ball Gaffs/Gossip
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Summer Ball Gaffs/Gossip
Summer Ball season is here. Just add aircrew to a righteous mix of free booze and (pretty?) laiydies in posh frocks...you know it makes sense! In other words there must be some huge social gaffs being perpetrated out there. Just change the names/places/details to protect the innocent and guilty alike and get typing.
There you go again..perpetuating the idea that all because someone makes up a 'rule' that it should be religiously followed to a level that our rag'ed friends would admire.
In keeping with the moment, may I suggest that a Fatwah is declared on anybody who follows such rulings. You seriously believe that after the hardwork and courage shown by many in the ME, for example, such a 'ruling' is going to be followed? I humbly suggest that the only people who follow the ruling will be personnel who regard that to wear a Sqn cumberbund would be the most courageous thing that they've done in the RAF:-)
Heavens, I've even seen an Admin Wg cumberbund
In keeping with the moment, may I suggest that a Fatwah is declared on anybody who follows such rulings. You seriously believe that after the hardwork and courage shown by many in the ME, for example, such a 'ruling' is going to be followed? I humbly suggest that the only people who follow the ruling will be personnel who regard that to wear a Sqn cumberbund would be the most courageous thing that they've done in the RAF:-)
Heavens, I've even seen an Admin Wg cumberbund
Gentleman Aviator
Dunno if it counts as gaffs or gossip, but I recall at a certain secret Hampshire helicopter base a few years ago, one of the first "themed as a funfair" ball, c/w dodgems, helter-skelter et al. From the top of said helter-skelter, a birds eye view could be had of a secluded (not) bushy area where young officers were "entertaining" their young ladies ....... and at least one "entertaining" someone else's!
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Remember hearing the story, think it was a Scottish unit, of a large youngish F3 Nav being over enthusiastic on the bouncy castle and head-butting OC As wife unconcious and with a bloodied face and ball-gown to match - not at all funny for the lady concerned but I can imagine the hierarchy going into overdrive.
The Mark One Summer Bollock.....
You and your cronies get invited to the Boss's MQ for pre-Ball drinks. That drags on a bit and the wimmin start looking a bit peeved. So you all depart as a sqn gorilla long after the event was supposed to begin and barge into the OM. After necking a couple of glasses of the 'welcoming cocktail', you fall upon the seafood. Unfortunately the blunties and non-aviators have nicked all the prawns and recognisable creatures, so you're stuck with cockles and odd-looking small sea monsters. The tarts look even more pi$$ed off, so you leave them to natter about knitting and kittens or whatever and head off for the bar to chat to your mates. Eventually guilt sets in a few hours after the expensive band has bogged off, so you drag some unsuspecting wife off to the disco for a few minutes of alcohol-induced groping. After getting told rather forcibly to remove your hands from the curvier parts of her anatomy, you decide to have another sherbet. Or two. Then find the second food sitting clutching a couple of bottles of foul-tasting European wine-lake filth called something like 'Dom Kellerschitz'. An hour or two go by whilst you scoff and quaff, then it's time to drag another unsuspecting bint to the darkened disco. Stepping on her toes and dribbling down her cleavage does not quite have the desired effect, so it isn't long until you seek further solace in the bar with your chums. Then you seek out the so-called 'Oriental' food bar...but as the food is rather salty, you need to repair to the bar to find something to wash it down with. Then you remind the other half that she's got to saty shober, becosshh she'll be drivinnngg.....
About dawn, someone mentions 'Eggy bac's' - so it's off to the dining room for bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, fried bread, long strong black pudding - and a couple of beers or, if you're a JP trying to charm the knickers off your girlfriend, a morning bottle of champagne. But it's not long before you are reminded in words of half a syllable that "IT'S TIME WE WENT HOME".....which you do. And then the following April, many more RAF babies are born.......
You and your cronies get invited to the Boss's MQ for pre-Ball drinks. That drags on a bit and the wimmin start looking a bit peeved. So you all depart as a sqn gorilla long after the event was supposed to begin and barge into the OM. After necking a couple of glasses of the 'welcoming cocktail', you fall upon the seafood. Unfortunately the blunties and non-aviators have nicked all the prawns and recognisable creatures, so you're stuck with cockles and odd-looking small sea monsters. The tarts look even more pi$$ed off, so you leave them to natter about knitting and kittens or whatever and head off for the bar to chat to your mates. Eventually guilt sets in a few hours after the expensive band has bogged off, so you drag some unsuspecting wife off to the disco for a few minutes of alcohol-induced groping. After getting told rather forcibly to remove your hands from the curvier parts of her anatomy, you decide to have another sherbet. Or two. Then find the second food sitting clutching a couple of bottles of foul-tasting European wine-lake filth called something like 'Dom Kellerschitz'. An hour or two go by whilst you scoff and quaff, then it's time to drag another unsuspecting bint to the darkened disco. Stepping on her toes and dribbling down her cleavage does not quite have the desired effect, so it isn't long until you seek further solace in the bar with your chums. Then you seek out the so-called 'Oriental' food bar...but as the food is rather salty, you need to repair to the bar to find something to wash it down with. Then you remind the other half that she's got to saty shober, becosshh she'll be drivinnngg.....
About dawn, someone mentions 'Eggy bac's' - so it's off to the dining room for bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, fried bread, long strong black pudding - and a couple of beers or, if you're a JP trying to charm the knickers off your girlfriend, a morning bottle of champagne. But it's not long before you are reminded in words of half a syllable that "IT'S TIME WE WENT HOME".....which you do. And then the following April, many more RAF babies are born.......
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Not bad BEags but you missed the famous '1am stair pull'. Simply wait until 1am and loiter outside the front of the OM where all the girlfriends who have just had a massive row with their very drunk partner will gather in tears. A simple 'there there, did the nasty man upset you' whilst the offending boyfriend is dancing like a drunken loon/unconcious/throwing up in a bush/flirting with a scribbly/stood naked on the bar singing rude songs all with the Regt offrs (delete as required) and bob's your uncle or at least your very 
'best' mate.
And of course for those of you who live-in don't feel you have to rush to try all the fine food on display 'cause you'll be getting the stale remains served for dinner in the Mess for at least a week after.
'best' mate.And of course for those of you who live-in don't feel you have to rush to try all the fine food on display 'cause you'll be getting the stale remains served for dinner in the Mess for at least a week after.
Avoid imitations
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Teetering Head,
"Secluded bushy area?" Good grief man, be careful what you say!
We were trying to keep that quiet.....if my wife reads that I'm done for.
Actually, in my case it was actually on the big wheel tho'.....
"Secluded bushy area?" Good grief man, be careful what you say!
We were trying to keep that quiet.....if my wife reads that I'm done for.
Actually, in my case it was actually on the big wheel tho'.....
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Germany, mid eighties. Lads had placed a tape recorder in the ladies "Powder Room". Later that night, edited highlights broadcast through the Mess PA.
My favourite from a female voice that was easily recognisable:
"Christ, there must be half a mile of d**k out there and I can't get myself 6 inches!"
My favourite from a female voice that was easily recognisable:
"Christ, there must be half a mile of d**k out there and I can't get myself 6 inches!"
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Summer gaffe
Reminds me of a nav I knew in the middle east many moons ago. He told the tale of a summer ball at a Maritime station oop north. He was doing fairly well with the Wg Cdr A's daughter and had managed to enviegle her outside to the car park - ostensibly to cool off, but they finished up in his old Austin 7 or maybe a Mini.
Anyway the only way they could " assume the position" so to speak was to climb in the back with the front seats tilted forward.
Still not having enough room, he opened the driver's window and had one leg sticking out in the breeze. As the gyrations of the vehicle were reaching blast off point, he suddenly felt a hand shaking his external foot!
Naturally ardours were quickly cooled and there was much scrambling to look presentable. Only thing was, the phantom shaker had vanished. As he said afterwards " Somewhere out there there's someone who knew me and the bird concerned. I never ever found who he was though!
Anyway the only way they could " assume the position" so to speak was to climb in the back with the front seats tilted forward.
Still not having enough room, he opened the driver's window and had one leg sticking out in the breeze. As the gyrations of the vehicle were reaching blast off point, he suddenly felt a hand shaking his external foot!
Naturally ardours were quickly cooled and there was much scrambling to look presentable. Only thing was, the phantom shaker had vanished. As he said afterwards " Somewhere out there there's someone who knew me and the bird concerned. I never ever found who he was though!
I am a figment of my own imagination
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Summer Ball bird comes down smart frock an all. During festivities we retire to cabin, back on dance floor little later escorting my lady back realise with thrill of horror the label by her neck is on the outside, had to slip back to cabin again sharpish. Luckily dim lighting and everybody else very occupied.
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Ahh BEagle, your last post bought back some memories… Back in Ozmate in a similar time frame to yours, I think, you knew it had been a good Ball/ball if it finished with morning tea with the Boss – often as not, cheque book in hand. I found a whole new meaning to ‘potting one’ on a Mess billiard table at my first Summer Ball.
Best story of someone I actually knew was of professional bachelor who was inveigled to take very snooty flat mate of squadron friend’s girlfriend to the Summer Ball. Drove 40 miles into city to pick her up, 40 miles back to Base, dropped her off in local motel to get ready and returned to Base to do something similar.
Got waylaid in the Back Bar for “one or two” beers on the way to the shower…. One beer inevitably lead to another and next thing he knows, he’s the only one in the Back Bar not wearing Mess Kit. Mate who’s done the original inveigling sees him and asks whereabouts of girlfriend’s flatmate… Frank discussion ensues and professional bachelor decides it may be time to go and get his partner… but can’t remember which motel he left her in.
By the time he’d found it, (and there weren’t very many to choose from), the lady had caught a cab home.
Best story of someone I actually knew was of professional bachelor who was inveigled to take very snooty flat mate of squadron friend’s girlfriend to the Summer Ball. Drove 40 miles into city to pick her up, 40 miles back to Base, dropped her off in local motel to get ready and returned to Base to do something similar.
Got waylaid in the Back Bar for “one or two” beers on the way to the shower…. One beer inevitably lead to another and next thing he knows, he’s the only one in the Back Bar not wearing Mess Kit. Mate who’s done the original inveigling sees him and asks whereabouts of girlfriend’s flatmate… Frank discussion ensues and professional bachelor decides it may be time to go and get his partner… but can’t remember which motel he left her in.
By the time he’d found it, (and there weren’t very many to choose from), the lady had caught a cab home.
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Whilst a holding officer 17 years ago at a Lincolnshire base (then home to failed AEW aeroplane, now home to more successful AWACS aeroplane) I attended my first "proper" Officers' Mess ball. What an eye opener after Cranwell.
Aside from the sight of drunken blunties puking in the bushes as the aircrew chatted up their girlies, the highlight came during the disco phase.
The DJ put on the Bad Manners version of the can-can and the girlies linked arms and started to dance (drunk blokes just watched). And watch we did when one of the ladies fell out of the top of her dress and jiggled around for a long time, unable to free her (linked) arms and make herself presentable. What was more amazing was that 30 seconds after re-seating her assets, the same thing happened again. Some people are just slow on the uptake, thankfully.
Witness names may be provided if required.
Wiley reminds me of when I was persuaded to invite a friend of a WRAF mate to the ball at the secret Oxfordshire airbase that BEagle knows so well. I drove 15 miles to pick her up, escorted her during the more formal phases of the ball only for her to go missing a little later. A search around the grounds found her "busy" with the brother-in-law of the aforementioned WRAF mate - I left them to it, got myself a bottle of booze and then spent the rest of the evening with a nice young lady who was another "friend of a friend".
Isn´t it nice how the Officer's wives feel it is their duty to provide a ready supply of talent for the single blokes? Ah, happy days!
Aside from the sight of drunken blunties puking in the bushes as the aircrew chatted up their girlies, the highlight came during the disco phase.
The DJ put on the Bad Manners version of the can-can and the girlies linked arms and started to dance (drunk blokes just watched). And watch we did when one of the ladies fell out of the top of her dress and jiggled around for a long time, unable to free her (linked) arms and make herself presentable. What was more amazing was that 30 seconds after re-seating her assets, the same thing happened again. Some people are just slow on the uptake, thankfully.
Witness names may be provided if required.
Wiley reminds me of when I was persuaded to invite a friend of a WRAF mate to the ball at the secret Oxfordshire airbase that BEagle knows so well. I drove 15 miles to pick her up, escorted her during the more formal phases of the ball only for her to go missing a little later. A search around the grounds found her "busy" with the brother-in-law of the aforementioned WRAF mate - I left them to it, got myself a bottle of booze and then spent the rest of the evening with a nice young lady who was another "friend of a friend".
Isn´t it nice how the Officer's wives feel it is their duty to provide a ready supply of talent for the single blokes? Ah, happy days!
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Summer Balls
BEagle,
Your account sent a series of shivers down my spine; memories came flooding back and, in this instance, distance, like it usually does, did not lend enchantment. Nevertheless, come that time of year, with optimism undimmed, I continue to drag myself along but, ultimately, nothing changes, except the wimmin appear to be even more lovely these days, the drunks even drunker, and the renditions from the various bands even more unintelligible.
All things considered, I find that serendipity is just not what it used to be.
Roll on next year!
Your account sent a series of shivers down my spine; memories came flooding back and, in this instance, distance, like it usually does, did not lend enchantment. Nevertheless, come that time of year, with optimism undimmed, I continue to drag myself along but, ultimately, nothing changes, except the wimmin appear to be even more lovely these days, the drunks even drunker, and the renditions from the various bands even more unintelligible.
All things considered, I find that serendipity is just not what it used to be.
Roll on next year!
Had just finished Cranditz as sprog and was living in Trenchard during my JP training..boogying away to the disco...next thing fizzzzzzzzzz...cabbage rolls by..complete with thundy in it....BNAG..no one escaped..cabbage everywhere!
