Gutersloh?

Mmm. That was the stn I spent least time of all at, in RAFG and spent most time deployed off the unit, than on it. I enjoyed Wildenrath the most. In the 80's there was a documentary on the BBC about Wildenrath's TACEVAL. That would make fascinating watching today, it'd show just how much the role has changed in 25 years.

Ok, I remember Vulcans landing at Catterick.. to be burned. They closed the A1.

When Cpl MTDs were all over 50 with war medals and pilots wings
Drinking Tiger beer until closing time and then catching a taxi to changi village for a meal and not spending £2 all night
Going on the MT boat trip to Coney Island in the Jahore Straights and chatting up the Scaley Girls
Being called into the Flt Sgts Office the next day and told to stay away from his daughter
Being called into the Flt Sgts Office two weeks later and told I had volunteered to be posted to Kutching (I wonder why)
Catching the last truck back from Kutching Market Place to get back before Curfew
Flying in the whistling wheelbarrow or flying t*t, in Hastings, Twin Pins, Bevs Belverderes etc etc whenever you wanted after working nights on a sleeping shift.
Watching a film from the wrong side
Going on a Beach Trip with 50 others organised by Mabel from the WRVS
Watching Mabel in her Bikini (Bra and Pants) and thinking what a body
Waking up the next day to reality and realising Mabel was nearly 60
Being charged with Whilst on Active service did urin*ate against the Naafi Wall

Watching a Vulcan blow the last 15 feet of the runway down onto the road below whilst doing a roller

Station Call Outs
 

I remember the hooter going at 3 in the morning- packing 14 days kit (two pillows) in to a blue holdall and going off to war

Why was it always 3 am? Why did we never plan for Ivan to kick off after breakfast?

Ah...sweet nostalgia.

As a lad of 19 and on my birthday at RAF Eastleigh, being offered a lift at the gate by the CO on his way to Nairobi and him seeking me out the next day to ask if I'd got home OK. Do senior officers like that exist any more? Walking home in the mossie drains at Eastleigh to avoid falling in! Hitch-hiking safely from Nairobi to Kampala and back. Night-flying in a 30 Sqn Beverley to see the flare-path I'd laid from a pilot's point of view. "Brilliant" he said!

As an SAC at Cottesmore, opening Crash Gate One to let in one Johnny Johnson who always stopped for a chat. He reckoned he could be in his office before the snowdrops on the gate gabbed that he was on station. Being introduced to his replacement, one Gp Capt Martin[?] as, "the man who opens the crash gate for you"!

Always beating the aircrew to their Victor on Mickey Finns.[It was a matter of pride fellas!].

Sanding and repainting , at midnight,the Snowdrops shiny landrover which they had put on its side and then begged us for help to fix before morning.

Having transferred to the RNZAF, walking out at Mildenhall to the RNZAF DC6 taking me to NZ and realising the guy who offered to carry my bag was the aircraft captain!

Free Kokinelli.

Cisk & Hopleaf.

Leuchars. Leaving Hendersons at ten (closing time) to make last orders in the NAAFI.

The T-bar putting a barrel on to match the one bought by someone posted.

Being woken up at sunrise by the birds under the window, squabbling over the reminents of the previous night's technicolour yawn.

Voluntering to top up the emergency oxygen bottles first thing in the morning so you could sniff it to try and overcome a hangover.

All before I was 18!

I remember when a tour to the Falklands was considered crap and everyone would love to go somewhere like the Gulf instead if the possibility existed!

Getting a "Double Magic" from the guys at Butcher Radar for making the intersection turn off at Belize in a VC10 - I got quite a few "Crap" as well.

Beagle, you mentioned the Gut, celebrated my 21 st birthday down there, and was inert freight back to Akrotiri in an Argosy the next day, visited there out of interest a few years ago, it's now dentists and estate agents premises, the hop leaf still tastes the same.
The Pen club certainly has a battlefield history, during the complications in 1974 the Rock Apes took over and couldn't be shifted, the rozzers put the dogs in and that didn't work, when they were ejected they were put in the dog pens by the guardroom to sweat it out the next day, several people died through booze one way or another during that period.

Going up to Bellapaye and Kyreniia via Troudos on a motorbike, going on one week benders camping at Polis, seeing flamingos on Ladies Mile, really laid back posting,

Best regards,
om15

Your service number was just a number.

Singlies shared cars.

Monthly bar bill limit.

Merrydown Cider.

When Stores had nav bags etc over the counter.

When cold weather flying gloves came as gloves, left and gloves, right. Not as a pair and different colours.

Socks, flying, woollen plain and Socks, flying woollen ribbed, and Vests Raschall knitted (string to you and me)

Your word was your bond.

Hospitals at Halton (Son born there) , Ely, Nocton Hall, Wroughton, Cosford, Wegberg, BMH Singapore (Daughter born there)

12 months "not having" at Gan
Waiting on the jetty on Sat evenings for marine craft to go to Nurses Dance at Hittadu!
Dhoni races
Billet bars at Xmas
Ogling at female staging passengers on the pan and at the transit hotel (Blue Lagoon?)

Drawers, cellular
Stick, button,
Kit, sewing (or was it housewife?)

MQ inventories that listed Serviette Rings & Jelly Moulds, but for WO's only - that really gave you something to aim for!

When a pompous,self opiniated twit who was my head prefect was doing his national service and had to help strap me in to my ejector seat.

When the MO, Staish and Adj. all had time to see that you got the best deal poss when you had to go.

When the RAF made the effort to re-settle you as well.

River Swale crossings at 0430.
4 minutes for lunch.
Pokey Drill.
Keeping an eye out for the nurses minibus.
Sharing Xmas dinner with uncaring hungry Muslim children.
Army roast spuds basted with marmite. :ok:
Early breakfasts at the 'Wessex Restaurant'.
Leaving march out prep until the day before.
Eurocheques.
Being allowed to use electric floor buffers after 4 weeks of Basic training:ok::ok:.
The sheer pride at wearing my Reggie slides for the first time.
And OGs.
Falling naked into nettles at a leaving do.
Having my fingers mashed in the breach block of an M60 by the Flt 'enforcers' because I f#cked up once too often :E.
Thinking an SAC who was 27 was really old.
The wonderful smell of WRAF Blocks (well, compared to the Rock Block anyway).
Wet sleeping bags.
Lying in a shell scrape or in a bivvy, or in the OHP part of a fighting trench at night, and hearing someone looking for his relief and hoping to god it wasn't me and pretending to be asleep (frequently).
Throwing away the NBC filter packs of the CVR(T) and smuggling back bottles of spirits from RAFG (allegadly).
The face of the junior Royal Marine officer who dropped his 9mm into an African river from the helicopter just after saying the Regt was gash.
Trying edible candles.
Being sick.
Butts successfully shagging a tin of compo sausages with the middle ones removed.
Replacing the middle sausages.
Passing the tin over to the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers at hand over 2 hours later, who never got compo sausages.
(Ordinarily) Compo sausages :ok::ok::ok:.
Hearing the C5s and Blackhawks land at Akr and thinking 'What have the Americans been doing now?'.
African sunrises.
Happy African children.
Rigid raider patrols in the Med at night.
Wessex roping drills :=.
The stripper at Swinderby.
Doing bunny hops around the airfield at Catterick, in my No1s and with my bed pack on the shoulder. :{
Leaving a unit for the very last time.
Attesting in Swansea with my best mate.
Meeting up with my best mate at the Railway Station as we both travelled to Swinderby together from Port Talbot.
Remembering that excitement and nervousness I felt, when I woke up on the morning I left the RAF.
Despite the bullsh#t, wishing I could do it all again.

Bruggen…………
 

Being introduced to the Staish 4 days after arrival, whilst wearing a T-shirt with “You Fat Ba$tard” on the back in 3 inch dayglo letters:}
Getting your telly chipped at CIS Eng so it would work
Night flying meaning that you couldn’t follow Corrie on BFBS.
Augmentation force
Thursday night at the Rugby Club, Nurses from Wegberg, pink polar bears and wobbly
Friday night at the NAAFI Shag and Shuffle, then Roermond, St Georges square, Hermans (the beer boutique) the Blues bar and a Schwoarma
Saturday night Families and Fottie club, then MG “The street” or the Red Hen/Mucky Duck.
Taxi rank outside the NAAFI, full of cream Mercedes
Paying next to nothing for a Car/Stereo/Telly and 3 DM (a pound in old money) for a tin of beans
Sixth sense & the Forces Echo full of adverts for car headlights
BFG tick test, BFG roadworthiness check & fuel coupons.
The “No jerry cans” signs at the ports
BFBS Weather……”levanter cloud at Gibraltar, raining and windy in the Falklands……”
Ration cards for Gin, Tea and Tabs
Families NAAFI, Gifts and Stiffs, JHQ big NAAFI, JHQ BX, NATEX Geilenkirchen, NATEX Bike shop.
Huffy mountain bikes, Webber barbeques
Fear Dry Inn, Deafen Inn, Chicken Inn, Fix it Inn, The Frog and Radiator…the list goes on
Bugger…………it’s all gone:{

Taking ages to make one OHP transparency pre-Powerpoint days.

Seeing some god-awfully-tedious Provost Officer dump about 80 OHP slides on the right hand side of his talking torso and watch him gradually move them over to the left hand side during the 2 hours it took him to lecture us about RAF Security during IOT.

I still have nightmares. We had enjoyed the NAAFI wine tasting night the evening before and people were desperate to throw up or pee but there was no escape!:bored:

Being asleep during a 24-hour shift under a console in full IPE during Neatishead's Taceval, and being kicked awake by the FA because we were launching more F4s out of Wattisham.
The front door of SHQ being only for use by officers and WOs only.
Not having prices on the evening menu in the mess!
Having a problem with a Married Quarter that was sorted out by going and speaking nicely to a WO and, whilst we're on the subject, workmen who we're employed on the patch, so actually gave (or were allowed to give) a crap about the quality of work they did.
Being able to call someone a puff without it resulting in a sharp intake of breath from all around you.
Watching The Dambusters Film and hearing the Dog's real name (Nigger).
A fighter that couldn't turn and maintain level at FL390, so had to go into Dutch airspace to avoid descending into an Airbus at FL370! Oh, sorry, it's still in service.
Airways having colours!
Sufficient airspace south of Y70 to do 2 lots of PIs in (and enough servicable fighters to manage it!).
Service papers that actually made sense (even if you didn't agree with them)instead of being so full of management bolleaux that the only one who understood it was the author (and there is some doubt about that).
A Service that set standards for itself, based on the actual task required of it, rather than being reliant on external validation by (ex mil!) management consultants, most of whose work is carried out by us, just so we can have IIP/ISO9000 or whatever this month's latest fad is on the bottom of the corporate letter head.
Headed notepaper that didn't need a 'corporate logo', because the RAF Crest said it all.
Not being allowed to use charts as they were too expensive, so having to
rely on hand-drawn copies to keep crews out of active danger areas.
Service chefs (I know there are still a few out there - keep up the good work!).
Annual Leave.

I now need to go and lie down.:*

STH

MAP - you beat me to it.

Persuading the transport crews to wait at the jetty for the ferry to the Nurses Dance on Hittadu

Chip suppers in the Blue Lagoon after long sorties (and that first beer when the changeover SAR crew arrived).

The all night (and most of the following day) bridge games - where are you George H?

The relief on leaving/the relief on finding Gan.

Mail drops to Diego Garcia (and the first approach ever to its newly built but not finished runway).

Flying Officer crews.

When FEAF was only 17 hours by VC10.

When marriage allowance was abolished and everybody got the new 'military salary' - the day before I got married!

The OMQs for JO's at ISK were the caravans at Findhorn.

'4 for Kirkie (SP?)/Uckers/Bridge etc' - and that would include the boss.

Promotions were based on primary performance not secondary duties.

But we couldn't fly past 55.

The Barnsley witch at Finningley. Recpetionist during the week and the main event at Marham at weekends.