TACEVAL stories
 

During the Cold War a solid air defence backed by a superior QRA was the universal holy grail for the RAF; closely followed by a good TACEVAL result.

TACEVAL was a serious business, run by ultimately powerful guys up at Group HQ, but a lot of funny, outrageous and just plain weird stuff happened during TACEVALs; both pre and post the HAS era.

I was in a hangar (pre-HAS) when the hangar was reported (exercise only) to have taken 2 mortar round hits. The IRT were informed and the station emergency response (including medics) swung into action.

A Cpl medic knelt down next to one of the"casualties", pinched his ear lobe and said "can you hear me". Casualty (overacting) groaned and tried to sit up, medic leant over to restrain him.

Medics heavy steel helmet (before we had plastic ones)fell off his head as it was going down and collided with casualty's head as it was coming up.

Resulted in a proper (NODUFF) concussion. NODUFF ambulance summoned and (now real) casualty whisked off to nearest NHS A&E dept.

His treatment was confused, at first, because the A&E found a piece of paper in his hand which said " broken leg and multiple contusions".

Happily he was back at work within a fortnight.

Any TACEVAL stories welcome.

Rgds SOS

At a certain F3 base (no names), first hour of TACEVAL, one of the 'umpires' in the WOC was in a bit of a flap. He'd left some paperwork behind. He'd borrowed a copy of one of his fellow 'umpires' and collared one of my SAC's to photocopy the lot.

Usual paperwork dross, then pure gold. A complete breakdown of every 'inject' and 'stunt' the TACEVAL Team planned. When, where, timings, the lot. Pure gold.

I'd like to say my SAC didn't decide to make an extra copy. But .........

Forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes.

We passed with flying colours.

We also passed the next couple of TACEVAL's when we didn't have prior knowledge.

By the 4th morning of a TACEVAL at Marham the fleet had been generated to strike missions, when the signal came to the Ops room to launch. Tensions rose and people started opening blisters. A moment before the strike controller started hit set piece of releasing and authenticating, a Chief from Eng Ops got up from his seat at the front and noticeably caught everybody's eye when he walked from left to right across the very front of the tote boards. Odd timing to go for a wander was the general opinion.

Ten minutes later the finale still hadn't started; enter Chief again, following reverse route, only this time carrying a large paper plate stacked with food. Watched by the Stn Cdr and his senior battle staff, he sits down and starts tucking in, until fellow Eng WO is seen to lean towards him and says something like 'wtf are you doing'? Slight pause, then situation dawns on Chief, who says out loudly, "I thought he said it was a mass lunch!"

Bruggen late 70's middle of TACEVAL.

Erstwhile Sqn Ldr Ops (no names but had just become a grandfather) on station tannoy:

Hoots from our PBF.

Bruggen, early Eighties, at the end of a TACEVAL and on broadcaster's retirement:

"Standby for broadcast. This is the COC ......... and this is the sound of Champagne (sound of Champers being poured into glass follows). End of broadcast"!

I hope the Statute of Limitations has run out on this one.

Scottish Buccaneer base. 20 minutes into TACEVAL, self and oppo 'hit' by IED outside ATC. Carted off to Casualty Clearing where we are pronounced DOA.

Told by Umpire to 'Bugger off' and keep out of the way. None of this 'you're dead but alive again in 12 hours' nonsense.

Now, not wanting to hang around the mess (we both lived in) for the next 4 days with all the nause of being stopped and searched everytime we ventured out (plus the fact the bar was closed), my oppo had a plan.

We sort of knew where the Team were staying, a Hotel about 10 miles away, so we chanced it and booked ourselves in as part of the 'RAF Booking'. 'No problem' says the Receptionist. So for the next 3 nights we shared a twin room, ate and drank quite well and disappeared on the morning of the 4th day leaving the Taceval Team Leader to settle the bill.

TD, Brilliant!:ok:

Suffolk Buccaneer base and first TACEVAL after we got the fleet back airborne again and the rusty bits were definitely showing.

The rusty bits were pointed out by the TACEVAL team at the debrief at which point the Staish (Good on yer Mike) said something along the lines of "Yeah, well if it was real war we'd do OK so don't worry about this stuff".

It was probably a career shortener but boy oh boy did we appreciate it. :ok:

As an aside, Oppo in my Lossie dit, 20 years later became a civvy 1* equivalent in Command Accounts at HQSTC.

Poacher turned Gamekeeper.

Gutersloh sometime in the 80s. The inject was that an air traffic controller had lost his marbles, had taken a hostage and was gibbering ENDEX on the station tannoy. The ATC supervisor went upstairs to notionally talk to the controller. In classic Indiana Jones fashion, the ATC supervisor got to the top of the stairs pulled-out his pistol and shot the controller without stopping for a single breath. The TACEVAL man was most un-amused.

Gen Shan Hackett (he of Arnhem fame) wrote a book called ISTR "World War Three". Middle of a station exercise, Duty Exec was looking a bit lost, and asked generally "Well, where are we then?" Someone threw him copy of Shan Hackett's book and quoted a page number - "We are about there" said the thrower of the book.

The most surreal TACEVAL I was part of was at Northolt in the late '80s. Clearly an attempt to 'get in on the act' the base decided to have a Stn Exercise utilising one of the worst 'ops rooms' I'd ever witnessed. Sat inside, no windows, if you turned the lights out you could see daylight through the myriad of holes. NBC proof it was not! The bizzare dreamlike world that was Northolt continued with the entire command chain having regular 'NAAFI breaks' over at the Officers Mess (just behind the 'COC') thus leaving the entire station 'headless'. Still, at least we had an over enthusiastic first tour baby Plod who would deal with each and every incident single handedly. Phone rings....handset snatched by said Plod.....brief discussion resulting in Fed leaping to his feet, drawing his Browning, cocking it whilst shouting 'I'll deal with this!' and then rushing from the room....:ok:

Geilenkirchen. Suppose it was a MINEVAL or something. A certain Canberra squadron (which shall be nameless). Hooter goes at crack of dawn.

Seven navigators turned up before the first pilot.

JJ
 

Surreal, but strangely believable.

Rgds SOS

My Teceval/Minival stories are either of Aunty Joan at that Norfolk radar station, and of DC of B......k, for whom a certain record was requested on Radio Lincolnshire by the Lineys.

Aunty Joan first -

Ordered by my new station commander to appear 3v weeks before posting, with my new but unentitled at that stage rank badges, for a station exercise (she had of course cleared it with Robby Robson) in which I was to be Ground Defence Commander. My predecessor gave me a 10 minute brief and disappeared not to return that day, and I was "in the chair". An hour later a call came in for an exercise fire at the Tx station (near Stalham about 5 miles away Putting all I had learned "on the hill" into effect, I reckoned CPX fire, off site, CPX civilian fire brigade. Five minutes later I met my new station commander - she swept into the GDCC, fag going, hair streaming - "Squadron Leader, when there is a fire on my station, it has flames coming from it. Send a real fire engine - NOW".

I got a gentle revenge later - 1800 briefing - fighter controllers had spoken of thing of which I knew nothing, then I was up for the Ground Defence brief. "Station Commander, ladies and gentlemen,. So far I have not understood a word. I hope I can do better". Roar of laughter, led by CO. I knew this was going to be a "good" tour.

TACEVAL Bruggen, seeing off a Jag TBird with an evaluator in the rear seat, for some reason there was only a couple of us in the HAS and I was sitting on the ducting in view and on intercom, but with full NBC kit on during NBC black I had fallen asleep.... The call comes through to go and I'm fast asleep sitting with my respirator on you couldn't tell, pilot is going frantic trying to wave at me and shouting down the intercom without letting the evaluator in the back realise anything is amiss..... Then for some reason I nod and the weight of the helmet wakes me... Afterwards pilot tells me he was considering throwing the contents of the cockpit at me when the rear seater was looking the other way :E

Pre Christmas joint party with ATC just down the A1 from Wittering. All the controllers start leaving at about 11pm. Boring old farts we thought and 'partied on'. Then back to the MQ for a wee dram. About an hour after we called it a night the hooter went off... Not good.

When I was at N......head, in MQ that had once been RAF Horsham St Faith, guy across the road had a 3 year old who whenever the hooter went was out there to see daddy off, wearing his camo PJs, plastic helmet and armed to the teeth. Can see him now. Would be about 30 now, wonder if he joined up.

:)





.........

Black Mack (SATCO) blowing the windows out on the ATC tower staircase with a thunderflash (Binbrook).

Odiham exercise.. hooter goes off in distance and ignored as tannoy in block doesn't work.. Here banging on door down the corridor and SWO and co asking "haven't you heard the call out? You're charged" hear him getting closer and people still answering the knock, charges all around... Comes to me... Silence on my behalf then hear him working back down the hall... Phew..

Wander into work swearing blind I was off station :E

Mrs W and I have been back from the honeymoon for 5 days - I can see her now, 6pm and she is putting a pan on the stove in the MQ at HSF - and the siren goes. I am permitted to use my car as I am Ground Defence Commander so don't need to wait for the bus. Mrs W is standing dumfounded, and open mouthed as I leave hurriedly. It seems in my memory that is how I found her when I got back at 2330 ish - except for the very loud " And where the heck have you been?" Then I realised - in our courting days when I was in DIOT at Cranwell and lived off base, she had only ever seen me called out by telephone. I think the siren had genuinely frightened her. Certainly put paid to a candle light supper!

A Taceval on a base recently deprived of its last flying flat iron, where, the funniest looking Nimrod was being introduced. And two Jnr Techs of the Airframe persuasion were posted to guard a "significant" building. It was around 2200 hrs and pretty dark, although the starlight gave you reasonable vision at around 20 feet. At this point I should admit that I was one of the guards, the other was a very large, very straight talking Yorkshireman who said what he thought, and loved American movies, we'll call him Fred. So we've been out there for around 2 hours and its pretty bloody cold, no contact with anywhere, and no visits from guard commander or anyone else.

We hear the sound of someone approaching, so I shout the challenge "halt, stand still", they keep coming, and now we see two officers, no NBC kit on so probably Distaff. I repeat the challenge, to no avail, they keep coming. At this point we can make out (around 20 feet away) two Squadron Leaders, one of whom was dark skinned and rather large. Seeing they were not going to stop Fred decided to take the situation in hand, he stood up from behind our sandbags, pointed his empty rifle at the pair, and announced in a very loud, Yorkshire, accent "one move and the nig**r gets it" ( just think of Guy Gibsons dog). The two stopped put their hands up and played the game from then on. They were both umpires from another unit and were impressed, so they said, with Fred's use of the vernacular. There was no complaint from either officer, I believe they were both amused. But could you get away with that now ? I doubt it.

Smudge :ok:

I remember the Jengo at Bruggen and being a Muslim on exercise when the breakfasts came round ( by which time we could have eaten a horse ) he had to wave off his Compo sausage, bacon, eggs and fried bread... Though everyone else had it instead..

One hopes things have changed and they now get a proper breakfast on exercise they can eat..



..

Another one from a Lossie TACEVAL. Two Assistant Air Trafficer's in a sangar 'guarding' the 05 end.

Come ENDEX, everyone off home for tea and medals.

15 hours later, 'Hey, has anyone seen Phil and Dave?'.

Yup, they're still out there. Talk about Japs on remote South Pacific Islands still fighting WW2.

How we laughed.

Tojo and Nanky Poo, do you frequent this site?

From the other side
 

I was a TACEVAL "inspector" (DI STAFF)!!

The job was very lucrative as we all qualified for ODR rather than the lesser PTR, plus Rate 1's for the duration. Consequently the slots normally went to those higher up the food chain than me.

I get a phone call from a fellow JNCO at a different RAFG station. He says he has heard I can speak French and that if I could then OC 4 Wing RAF Regt was offering me the job as one of the DI STAFF for the Part 2 TACEVAL of a Belgian Air Force station. I assured him I had a qualification in both written and spoken French.

A favourable assessment of myself and this other JNCO might be "a pair of coniving rogues".

Travelling down to Belgium the venerable (and awesome bloke) OC 4 Wing was front passenger, driven by my Sgt. Myself and the other rogue were in the back of the green Cavalier (I think) staff car. We had no hope of finding the place first time as the joining instructions used the French town names but the local maps and signage was in Flemish.

Finally we found a large fence and in time honoured fashion we turned left and drove round it in a clockwise fashion. SUCCESS, we happened upon a gate complete with sentries, sangars and weapons. It was a small affair and clearly a crash gate.

OC 4 Wing turned round, looked me directly in the eye and said "OK ss find out where the main gate is."

I wound down my window and enquired in a clear voice audible to all "Oi mate, ou est le main gate sil vous plait?"

"Sgt sort that wan*er out will you" bade the Wing Commander. My mate snorted with laughter and I said "O level grade D mate."

My exercise was awful, all the worst jobs possible.

The cash bought me a schrank though.

Bruggen... Now all Squadrons wished to come out top....

However we had a cunning plan, as with all things Squadron wise you tended to know the opposition so sitting in a HAS we went to work...
Someone had kindly provided a nice telephone directory for all the HAS on the Station, so one would blind call a HAS elsewhere and say can Corporal XYZ go to HAS 23 to have a look at a fuel leak...
Muggins on the other end being helpful would tell you he isn't in their HAS but HAS 22 so you would call that HAS and tell him to send a Liney etc to HAS 23 to replace you and so it went on..
Eventually a Tannoy message would go out telling them to ignore calls as they were bogus, so we would then call the HAS and tell them to ignore the Tannoy as compromised etc....
Ohh and the Staish used to also get calls simply saying Coco Pops...

Ahhhh such fun..
Oddly enough the station still used to come out smelling of roses


..

At one place I was at that shall remain nameless I was both the shelter marshall and exercise comms supremo. The shelter was a couple of sheets of poly on sticks just behind a building door with a tray of Fuller's earth on the deck.

Being always struck by the surreal nature of exercises and how two sheets of poly and a tray of dust could save us I could never take it seriously.

COC 'How many men are in your shelter?'

Me '400'

COC 'There are only 60 men on your section'

Me 'I've taken in refugees from neighbouring hamlets who are in need of succour'

COC 'You can't do that'

Me 'I am the Shelter Marshall, giver of life and death'

COC 'Report to me at Endex'


Conners about '75. ORP, Pete V*** and Middy H on cockpit readiness about 0200, sheeting down with rain, me on headset underneath wing. Crew stood down after about half an hour, Pete looks at me after climbing out, thoroughly wet and pissed off and in the most heartfelt way I've ever heard from another human says slowly 'What. A. Way. To. Earn. A. F******. Crust.'

In one of the crew shelters during an exercise at Kinloss in the mid-80s. Two crews in there on standby to fly later in the day. Each crew briefed to sleep in their flying kit to be ready for launch as soon as possible after the word is given.

How fun it was to sneak into the other crew's dorm and switch all the flying boots around!

On another occasion remember seeing P2 lying on a camp bed in a HAS wrapping himself in a paper chart as he was cold and trying to sleep. How we laughed when one of the lads set fire to the corner as we watched and waited!

Another one from a Leeming TACEVAL.

First time ever, the WRAF had to sleep in shelters (previously, they 'admin breaked' to the WRAF block).

The small dorm in the WOC slept 60 on triple bunk beds. 58 guys trying to kip. Enter 2 of the WRAFs finest to find the only bedspaces available were on the top tiers.

"Oh" says one, "I've never been on top before".

Cue 58 blokes laughing like drains

TACEVAL Gutersloh, early 1980s. 230 Sqn hangar, very wet, windy morning. RAFG Sqn Ldr assessor on scene. Ongoing "inject" was a mains power cut. Huge standby generator trailer therefore running by the side of hangar, twenty metres from side door.

Shyt and crewman leave hangar by side door and notice a round, domed topped, olive green metal object lying in the grass right next to footpath by the door.

"Aha! An exercise IED", we both calmly agree.

We retreat, close the door and report back to Sqn Ops to pass on the good news. Flt Cdr sets suitable career enhancing response in motion, i.e. calls local RAF Regiment to expertly assess the threat. "Yep, it's actually a landmine!" The end of the hangar exit and path were cordoned off, offices rapidly vacated, etc. Huge disruption to preparations for Sqn deployment.

While this is going on, TACEVAL assessor reads notes and then announces quietly and slightly nervously (increased IRA threat around that period, including RAFG personnel having been shot dead):

"Er.. by the way....this isn't actually one of ours....... :ooh: !"

All further local TACEVAL injects totally disrupted. More RAF Regiment appear.

About two hours later the landmine was discovered to be the top off the air filter from the standby generator. It had vibrated loose, jumped off and the wind had blown it like a frisbee to the grass by the footpath. :p

280SU, Cape Gata, Cyprus, early 70's Taceval. So, there I am, on top of the Ops Building roof at around midnight. All of a sudden, I spot 2 guys at the perimeter fence about 100m away. One gets on the others shoulders to jump inside the perimeter. I knew immediately what to do in this situation of course and cranked the handle of the field telephone next to me to report what I'd seen. Nothing - the line's dead. This was merely a diversion of course. Their mates were already inside, as I was about to find out.

I rushed over to the other side of the flat roof to where the other field telephone was, sit on the pile of surrounding sand bags and cranked the telephone handle.
"And that f***er won't work either" says the pile of sandbags I'm currently sitting on.
Time seemed to freeze at this point.

It was like a Mexican stand-off. It dawned on me at this point that I was now sat on a SAS guy (the 'invaders').
Fortunately for me, he said "don't worry mate, I'll come quietly".
I breathed a sigh of relief and took him down to the guard post at gunpoint where he was searched by the RAF Police. They took a few things off him and seemed satisfied by their search.
He was then searched by some plain-clothed guys unknown to me, who took the scar from his face (fuse-wire), a detonator from his backside and plastic explosive from his armpits. Not surprisingly, I've never forgotten that event!

Kinloss - NMSU - early 80's. Call out has been ongoing for some time. Short WO is now working up to super rant mode at late comers. The way into our Fortress was via the SNCOs crew room fire door, on the airfield side. For reasons unknown this had a very high step...

There came a knock and when the door was opened there on top of the step stood one of 2 Teams finest, with his old style tin helmet on his head.

WO stood straight in front of our hero and went off on one! Barney, attempting to explain his lateness while still on the step, tilted his head forwards oblivious to the fact that his chin strap was not done up.

The helmet duly gave into gravity and in a flash the steel rim had sliced across said WOs upturned nose causing an immediate and very painful injury and the end of all ranting for several hours!

Happy daze....

Neatishead Minival. Two guards patrolling the wire spot youngish and not unattractive woman in the wheat field outside the wire. "What are you doing?" asked one of the guards. "Looking for wild oats" comes the serious reply from the farmer's daughter. "Best come inside the wire" says his mate. Subsequent complaint courteously dealt with by Aunty Joan.

Cornish Air Force HQ...
 

.....'90s-ish.
OCU scratch crew "You lot are up for dinghy drill" WTF??

Get our heads down and are called at 5AM. Transport doesn't go to Newquay pool but sets off for the south coast - to Fowey in fact.
As we wait on the pier in the early morining thick mist we hear a subdued rumble of big diesels and a big Marine Craft hoves to about 200 yards off. Ferried out in the Zodiac and then set off down the channel and out to sea. Sun comes up, lovely sunny morning as we burn along the coast towards Lands End at 40 kts. Smashing full English breakfast in the sunshine.

Then emerged from his bunk the sea survival instructor from Mountbatten "Buggah"

About 20 miles west of LE we stop and we are allowed to get into the dinghy dry shod with all the goodies, solar stills,heliographs, flares etc.Boat eases away to (we thought) lurk hull down out of our sight.
WRONG!! They set of back to Plymouth at 40 kts!
I had secured the one and only live SARBE and had it tucked inside my immersion suit.
We tried out all the goodies chatted up dolphins who came to visit and eventually got bored
The Coudrose Sea Prince trundled by as we flashed our heliographs. No response.

We had imagined the scenario ; Nimrod search, drops anther dighy, calls in Seaking from Culdrose, we get winched dropped back at SM. OK let it all unfold.

Nothing happened!

Come 1800, Culdrose now shut, no Nimrod, evening wearing on.
I fetch out the SARBE which "Capt" immediately demands possession of. F*** O** Gordon.
Select the live rather than training mode. Capt objects. F*** O** Gordon.
"If I'm bobbing about here in the coming dark it's a real emergency"

Back at SM Ops, taceval umpire asks "What have you done about the crew that ditched? "EH?? WTFO"
Nimrod goes U/S. The RN (gawd bless'm) find a scratch crew who come to look for us. Find us and start winching. We hear the bang and SK departs landwards. Now what?
Stone me another SK appears and gathers up the rest of us and heads to SM.
Half way there, another VERY LOUD bang and a puff of what looks like brown smoke whips past the windows. It's a swash plate failure and loss of hydraulic oil. Limp to SM and get dumped on the first bit of airfiel after coast. No Transport. Walk all the way back to ops. No one in, all gone home, ENDEX was two hours ago.

In the bar OC Ops did apologise and buy us a beer.

An interesting day.

The Ancient Mariner

Prior to springing a surprise on RAF Marham, the TACEVAL team used to stay in a little pub about 15 miles from the station where they assumed they wouldn't be known. Unfortunately for them, the landlord was the father in law of one of the Victor Captains. So we always got at least a week's notice once the booking had been made.

Taceval Stories
 

During a TACEVAL At Kinloss in the early eighties, a dog handler, whose patrol area was between the wash pan, runway 08 and Harry the Staishs house, needed to answer a call of nature and wandered over to some bushes. Imagine his surprise when 100 lbs of German Shepherd nailed an intruder hidden in the bushes.... then ..some people will pee on you and tell you its rain!

I was never sure whether it was true, but OC Admin used to 'own' the Aux Rock Ape gang at a certain covert Oxonian aerodrome. They were as keen as mustard and often worked in a proactive manner.

One fine night, they were on external patrol and spotted a dubious looking bunch getting into a black car after filling up at the local petrol station setting off to the north. They duly gave chase and there followed the 'Battle of Burford High Street'. Nothing would stop our gallant Rocks until they'd nabbed their quarry at gun point and after a few blanks had been pooped off....

It took all OC A's negotiating skills to resolve the matter.

The next day I was stood down late at night and was driving quietly through Black Bourton when a Land_Rover full of heavily armed cam'd up Rocks pulled out in front of me...on a public road. I explained the error of their ways to them and they admitted they'd been a bit too keen - but when I mentioned it to OC A the next day he simply groaned, put his head in his hands and asked "Oh god, what have the buggers been up to this time?".

Splendid bunch they were though...

Allegedly, on one occasion in Lincolnshire, a Vulcan mate was 'friends' with a local hotelier, who told him about a block booking which had clearly been made for the TACEVAL team. So, when they duly turned up, the good lady of the inn simply advised them that there'd been a double booking and that there was No Room At The Inn for them....:E

Guetersloh, early 70's; TacEval team ordered evacuation of families, MT of all kinds loaded up with spouses and children, set off down autobahn to the west. On arrival at Kamener Kreutz, convoy turned round to return to station to find autobahn behind them jammed full of local residents from Guetersloh believing that the fall of the country was imminent. After that, all exercises were promulgated in local papers to avoid repeat.

Different exercise again at Guetersloh: '74ish, 2 'frightning' sqns based there (19 & 92); member of one of the sqns, strolled quietly into other sqns safe bunker with cs candle spluttering. Attacked sqns pilots out of action for requisite time, till deemed fit to fly again.

Operation Maximash the evaluation of RAF Wegberg..... Ahhh
Having been "volunteered" to go play casualty I actually then volunteered subsequent years...

You all got a bit of paper giving symptoms then off to make up.. one of the guys was given a slip of paper simply telling him that he had gone mad and act it out, we all wondered how he could do that....
We were all medivaced in by Chinook and as we were wheeled in for assessment, some really fit Flt Lt Nurse leans over him to check his symptoms, at which point he reaches up grabs both her breasts, squeezes them saying "honk honk" hops off his trolley and storms off up a corridor followed by howls of laughter from everyone bar the said nurse...