Ladies and Gentlemen thank you for causing great anxiety in my two dogs who were baffled and perturbed by the sight of me laughing hysterically whilst reading this thread. Never having been in the RAF puts me at a slight disadvantage when it comes to some of the abbreviations and nicknames but it certainly doesn't spoil the enjoyment. Keep up the good work, I look forward to reading many more tales. :ok:
PS - to whom should I send the vet's bills?

"Unleash the dogs of war," said our doughty Regiment Officer to clear the protestors from the end of the runway.

Released the dog duly bit the first ar^e to hand. Our doughty hero needed a new seat to his pants :)

COC command operations centre
Jengo. junior engineering officer
Sengo senior version
HAS hardened Aircraft shelter
TACEVALS tactical evaluation (big exercise)
MINEVAL Smaller version
OCU operational conversion unit aka a training unit
DISTAFF evaluation staff specific to exercises
CPX quick fix often making you look like plonkers, ie CPX trench rather than dig one, 4 pegs with tape round and marked as CPX trench often found with people standing in looking stupid.... You get the drift..

Ask if anymore you don't understand..

I remember that one. After that, the evacuations were restricted to a short bimble in the surrounding countryside before RTU, endex and a few beers. On one occasion, a local in his big Merc was trying to overtake the convoy by weaving in and out as passing traffic allowed. When he came up behind our Landy, our WO leaned out of the wagon, pointed his Stirling at him and gestured that he should remain where he is. The Merc driver duly obeyed and sat behind us for a good 20 minutes before he was cheerily waved on his way. From his gesture as he roared off, cordiale was not very entente.

The Merc driver obviously didn't realise the W0 would have had no chance of hitting the Landy he was in with a stirling, let alone a passing Merc..

German view of a Taceval
 

Mid 70s Lyneham Part I Taceval - all the aircrew were corralled in the Route Hotel (World War II Temporary Accommodation, about as far as it is possible to get from a hotel and even further from anything vaguely useful as protection for WW III ).

The German Exchange Pilot looking around him, obviously completely bemused, "Now I know why you guys won the war - you practise chaos!"

Another time but a Pt II - scenario is to do with reinforcing Denmark but weather is closing in with visibility good for departures but way below for recovery. Staish (John C*******) to Taceval team "Your call as tasking and operational control. do we stop launching, returning aircraft will all have to divert? No answer from Taceval and the 15 minute departure rate continued unabated.

Another Pt II Taceval team closed the taxiway with unexploded bomblets. Staish (David A****) said no matter cordon the area off and use the grass. Taceval team "You can't do that!" - we could and we did, operations continued without a break.

NutLoose, thank you :) That was most kind of you. :ok:
Was a Flat Iron by any chance a Vulcan?

In 1980, Cosford of all places called an exercise. They shipped hundreds of us on coaches all over the country. I went somewhere down south (Chilwell?? Ammo dump), was issued with a pickaxe handle and 2 of us put in a hut next to an ammo bunker. We didn't see a soul for 3 days, no food and one waterbottle each, no sleeping bags, beds, torches or any kit actually!
After 3 days, an officer turned up red faced in a land rover, food and drink in hand and very apologetic. Everyone else had gone home, they forgot us..........
Trabant is of course autocorrect for landrover

Possibly Chilmark - a bit west of Salisbury.

ACW

DXWombat,

The flying flat iron was indeed an affectionate term for the Vulcan, a marvellous bit of kit.

Smudge:ok:

Chilmark, that's it, thanks

But it could have been Chilwell - RLC/TA base.

TD gets the top prize so far!

Please please please PM me with this chaps name :)

Ah yes. Guarding ammo dumps with pickaxe handles. :uhoh:

Gutersloh deployment, Exercise Horrendous Farce.

As night falls the dispersal settles down to an evening of japing and baiting and all is quiet. That is until a Land Rover enters the site with headlights on full beam sweeping the dispersal and revealing the hides and equipment.

TURN THOSE LIGHTS OUT!!!!!! yells the rock ape commander.

The Land Rover continues sweeping the site with its headlights. TURN THOSE LIGHTS OUT OR YOU'RE ON A CHARGE!!! screams the rock ape striding towards the vehicle which is now parked in the vicinity of the mess tents. The lights go out plunging the dispersal into uber darkness. There then followed a slurping, slopping, sucking noise.

TURN THOSE LIGHTS ON!!!!! pleads the rock ape. The Land Rover driver obeys, the lights come on to reveal a Flt Lt floundering in the slop trench behind the mess tent, up to his medals in cold beans, congealed compo sausage fat and discarded baby's heads.

:D

Taceval - Norfolk - pre 1990.

Balloon went up, all reported to respective duties. A young un, with distinct orders not to let anybody "not authorised" into the COC was positioned. Keen and alert, he checked everybody's ID coming into the COC.

This one chap pitched up, looking respective in the rank of Group Captain, showed his ID to attain access. The guard, being alert to the brief, people may turn up with fake ID trying to get into the COC, thought that having no service number on the ID card was a fake, quickly wrestled the chap to the ground whilst shouting Guard Commander, Guard Commander. :D

A few minutes later, the Staish, hair ruffled, but none the worse for wear entered the COC and took over.

Nobody had told the guard that the boss didnt have a service number on his ID.

In the days when the Buccaneer and Suffolk had a close acquaintance I was ground defence commander for 208. Once everyone had got their act together we decamped over to the dispersal on the other side of the runway and played our various games until endex. A few desultory attempted incursions; lots of very secret plumber work etc etc etc but usually no great dramas.

Until this exercise. The secret plumber activities had just been completed and we idly watched as four Wessex appeared from the north east. No problem - that was not unusual given that Stanford lay in that direction. Then two landed just outside our wire disgorging yelling cammed up thugs and two hovered over the centre of the dispersal while more cammoed thugs roped down chucking smoke grenades all over the place.

At that point I realised the utter futility of it all and ordered everyone to put up their hands and shout "Kamarad". I mean, a joke's a joke. :eek::E

Battle Week in a tropical Paradise....me the Duty Agent for the Base....Real gun...real Bullets....real life Duty. Navy SpecOps Boat Unit crew dolled up in Camo...face paint...M4's with blanks. They staged behind an office building prior to staging a mock attack on the BOQ Mess....but were seen and reported to Base Security Police as "Prowlers".

The Call goes out to Patrol....as a "Prowler Call possibly Armed"....I back up the Patrol Units that responded....them one way around the building and me the other...guns drawn.....dark....and Confrontation....fortunately we got it sorted out before an exchange of gunfire between us and them.

If the Aggressors had been Filipino and not American.....it could have been a tragedy!

Seems no one had announced it as a "Drill" to those of us on Duty.

The RAF would have been appalled to find no service number on a Royal Navy officer's ID card until the mid/late 70s. We didn't have numbers, we knew each other ;)

RN officers were only issued Service Numbers in time of war, before the paybobs decided we needed something for the computers to recognise!

Thanks to all of you who are contributing to this most entertaining and informative thread. It's no wonder I have this site in my "favourites" file on a number of computers.