OK, I concede the point that if someone rocks up to the careers office and chooses Mess Steward as a trade, then that is their choice.

The imposition of such duties is what I object to.

As a side note, does the RAF still have Mess Steward (or whatever it is called today) as a trade? I must admit that when I was posted to an RAF station (being Army), the few of us there were surprised that the RAF had Mess Stewards, the Army had long since done away with them. The odd more traditional regiment dicked blokes to work in messes, but no trade as such.

I remember well the early morning call service in the O's Mess in Gib when detached during the 80's. The tea was made in a large teapot at about 0600. The spanish ladies providing the service would chatter loudly in the corridor until the time that was chinagraphed on your door, then clatter in with your by now luke warm cuppa. This would be banged down on your bedside table, followed by further loud and animated Soanish chattering until the next person was due and repeat. In the end, I gave up and had my cup at 0600 regardless, just so it was hot. Mind, since this was before the border opened, it was always disgusting because of the long life milk.

- wasn't that Batman, Robin?

As a young UOTC officer cadet in 1986, I managed to get on a sport parachuting course at Weston-on-the-Green, and was accommodated in the Officers' Mess at Brize Norton. Reasonably early on the first morning I was rather shocked when there was a knock on the door from the civilian mess employee to ask me how I liked my coffee...

...I didn't get to enjoy it though. About three minutes later every loudspeaker in the place started ranting on about "EXERCISE, EXERCISE". As a former air cadet and army brat, I had some idea of the significance of a TACEVAL; and so about ten minutes later I was at the front door of PCAU in uniform wondering whether I was going to have to take part. Fortunately the scary man in the maroon beret told me not to worry, but by the time I got back to the room, the coffee was cold...

Surprising really, as he also went onto Jaguars.
 

Skycop
I think i know the man, did he bang out the Jag on Tain range and then out a JP in the North East? If it is the same person, she was very nice..

I had an ex-colleague who had been an "Other Rank" in the military air traffic control world. She told me that her duty on night shift was to listen on the frequency whilst the officer air traffic controller went to bed. If any aircraft did call she was to answer with a "standby for controller" and get the officer out of bed. If no aircraft did call and having been awake all night about 30 minutes before the end of the night shift she had to wake him with a cup of tea ready for him to go off duty.
Personally as a career civilian I would have told him to "f**k off and make his own tea"

Perhaps an historical context may enlighten proceedings?

Long before the Royal Air Force, and long before the RFC, the infantry of the army had a very sensible and I think fair way of ensuring its officers were where they were supposed to be on duty, and properly dressed.
In peace, each officer had a servant. Officers required to ride as part of their duty [the horse gave a better viewpoint in battle for decision-makers] had two servants, one for the 'orse.

A private soldier employed as a servant had to be an experienced soldier, passed in the mandatory infantry subjects and fit to stand in line of battle, and was payed a fixed [by Regimental Standing Orders] generous sum, usually half his normal pay, by the officer. When not required by the officer, he was employed in mess. There was rarely a household to look after, officers were expected to live in, certainly as subalterns. "Colonels must marry, majors may marry, captains and subalterns may not marry". His officer provided the servant with mess clothing of regimental pattern, and mufti for when the officer in civvies was accompanied by the servant, which was often, with huge furloughs out of the training season. Men were able to [and did] refuse to work for a given officer. They had many perks, including permanent walking-out passes, and a goodly number followed their bloke into retirement as personal staff.
There were sometimes deep bonds of affection and dependence in both directions, redoubled in war because the servant became a Batman on the War Establishment and went to war as such. In a conflict such as the Great War, the batmen tended to be pooled in Company HQ under a junior NCO, and accompanied his fellow about his duties, often in the attack, and often priviliged in off-duty time.

I write of a bygone age, when it was neither abject to serve, nor reprehensible to be a master.

Zooming forward to almost modern days, as a Met Man spending much of his career overseas in OMQ, with an invidious "Equivalent Rank" to determine where to sit in Mess [and how much buckshee coke was issued], and often with a Dormant RAFVR Commission in case of WW III, I noticed that, as I ascended the ladder, so the privileges ascended at the same rate, so that, as CMetO BFG I briefly [as a pseudo Gp Capt] had a car and a driver, which lasted all of a couple of months!

Now in retirement I share a car, and do batman duties about the house. I do still have a sense of humour, necessary in a MetMan and his customer.

When I was in Borneo [1964/65] as an airman, we had what were called "chogie wallahs", These were Malay civillian lads [13-18 I think] who did our laundry and Basha cleaning duties.They also ran errands to the Naaffi. I think that they lived [existed] on the money that we gave them.
When you think. we lived six or eight to a room, and two lads "looked after" ten rooms or so, at a [Singapore] dollar a week per airman... worth about 1s9d.... the lads were not exactly starving....
Just worked it out. I was on about $S90 per week, for two on one off shifts..:eek:

At my first mess in 1965 things were very much as they had been for the previous 40 odd years. Our batties by then were civilians who looked after us well, for which they were tipped on a sliding scale according to the officer's rank. The atmosphere of the times can be gained by the fact that we had much opposition from the older officers to the mess purchasing a washing machine to save us the expense of sending our kit to the laundry, which was paid for on mess bills. The PMC felt that this move would be "detrimental to the status" of the officers, a phrase which immediately entered use, usually ironically.

Chiglet -How did the operation go? ;)

Alas the end of Cockers P and Horse's Necks.
Another victim of the cuts.

Belay those Horse's Necks and Cockers P! (Or how, after 200 years, the MoD has banned the Navy's cocktail parties) | Mail Online

according to the song, Kaiser Bill had one..........

sorry

I had a batman at Northolt in the OM in the late 70s. He was for always sending away my clothes away for dry cleaning whether they needed it or not - well I didn't think they did. I still have some metal coat hangers which he wrapped paper around to prevent marks across the trousers. He was a real gentleman's gentleman. He looked after my clothes and my room. Always a cheery good morning with my cup of tea in bed. Then I got married :(

Definitely had bat (wo)men in the O Mess at Laarbruch in the early 70s. The young lady (18) allocated to the top floor of Block 13A never did provide me with a hot cup of tea as she had taken a shine (or he to she) to the pilot who lived in the first room at the top of the stairs! Consequently, I was up, shaved and in my flying suit and heading off to breakfast by the time she got round to my room in the far corner.

Happy Days (if somewhat jealous of said pilot!).

Foldie:ok:

PS. My batlady at Finningley often invited 'her boys home to tea' in Rossington; she even fixed me up with the Mess Receptionist at one stage of my nav school days! I wonder whatever happened to Angie (not the receptionist)!

Breakfast in your flying suit - good god man, surely not!

I shared a batman with other 8 Sqn mates in the Khormaksar Mess. Ghaleb was a pleasant young Arab, but he never did understand why I once berated him for polishing and shining my suede hush-puppies - bless!

At Abingdon late 60's my batwoman was a complete star. My laundry basket was emptied and became washed and ironed linen placed neatly in the drawers. My uniform and civies were neatly pressed and placed in a logical order in the wardrobe. When she took a few days off my life descended into squalor.
In February 1970 I married. She sent my wife a set of kitchen scales and a message of condolence. Lovely lady.

And of course it was not just the Services that had batties, or in Mrs PN's case, a servant.

As pre-Miss PN she was a Junior Sister at a hospital living in the nurses' home (another joy cut), when the door would be opened unceremoniously and her early morning tea, on a tray with cup, saucer, sugar and milk would be placed on her back while she laid in bed - exit servant!

At least now the tea tray is placed on the butler's tray stand of a morn.

Years ago my only experience of a batman left me tickled pink. I’d flown into Dacca from Singapore very late one night and a driver took me to accommodation arranged by our company agent. It turned out to be in the Military Cantonment in the city. Next morning there’s a knock on my door and in walked an army corporal with a couple of boiled eggs and a cup of tea.

I caught a glimpse of his battle-dress shoulder flash as he turned to go, saluted and hammered his right foot into the floor boards. I swear I came to attention in bed – Bengal Lancers. :ok:

As you ask, I was there to fit some expensive US kit into Shenyang F-6s, Chinese-built version of the MiG-19. Spice of life - as they say.

At West Raynham in the mid-to-late 60s, the batman who worked in my wing of the Mess was called Fred. I think that Fred was ex National Service who had simply stayed on because he liked what he was doing.

Fred was an aircraftman aged mid-to-late 40s and absolutely loved his job, at which he was exceptionally good. According to Fred, he had been offered promotion on several occasions, but invariably turned it down because he would have to move and work somewhere else. He said that he'd rather stay and work with his "young gentlemen", because they seemed to appreciate him.

"according to the song, Kaiser Bill had one.......... "

Thats strange: Hitler, his successor also had one. Himmler was similar, Rommel had two but very small, Goebbels was totally bereft. Thats what was sung in the Bawtry Mess Happy Hours.
I wonder how Mike Knight knew?

Valet
 

My Grandfather Joe was a Valet to Garth Marshall during the First World War. He was treated as a friend of the family and during the 1930s he would visit London and the Marshall family for Rememberance Day. Joe carried the standard for the British Legion. Of the original 600 who set off to France in 1914 Joe was one of 50 who came home. The Marshall family had the upmost respect for my Grandfather Joe because after their dear son Garth was blown to pieces by an artillary shell it was Joe who looked around for the human remains to be buried. Garth was identified by Joe's hand writing in Garth's trench coat. The regiment they served was the 11th Hussar's. Garth was the best pistol shot in the regiment using both left and right hand on horseback.

When Joe visited the Marshall family they would assemble as if it was their beloved Garth coming home from the war.

He was just a Valet. I am very proud that he was.... and a hero of the First World War.