Orderly Dog
 

Just about everyone here will have been orderly dog of some description. Inspired by the award of a week's ON due to an early posting on an other thread, I am sure that is where tales of the Real Air Force could be told.

I was Orderly Officer and less than 6 months in as an APO and in the middle of a lecture when the fire alarm went off. It was written in the orders that the OK attend and take charge until relieved.

I was duly despatched. The fire was a quarters fire in a remote quarter on the airfield at Hullavington. One of those 2/3 bed semis where the unoccupied half had caught fire. I hitched a lift with a fire truck and all of 19 was completely clueless (OK, no change there).

That was the easy bit. It was a long walk back 😕

Hmm, a couple of stories

Watton mid 60s, I am newly minted Canberra driver and the only white card pilot officer pilot in Signals Command. Over the weekend had been in play with drama group. S"Mixed" dressing room, and stunning girl from comcen down to her Section Officer Harveys. Monday night I am OO (first time). Same girl on defaulters, looking like she had slept in her uniform. Gave me that "you saw me in stockings and suspenders on Saturday - you wouldn't dare" look. Deep breath - "Sgt, please send this airwoman to sort herself out and re-inspect her at 2200". "Sir!" thundered O Sgt, and in a whisper "10 out of 10 Sir!"

Nearly 20 years later and SDO at Binbrook when the phone goes at 00 silly. Guy on the phone says he is Strike Command something or other and gives me two code words, which against the rules I write down. Check words in SDO book, "Station Alert" (and non exercise), so ring Ops and ask them to hit the hooter. I go to Ops to find Stn Cdr (DC) incandescent and calling me all the names under the sun. Apparently there was not supposed to be an alert and comes of having scribblies as SDO, etc.
Dear Henry P, SLOPS, says come with me, and takes me through the whole sequence, I show him my illicit piece of paper, he goes to OC Ops, who takes Stn Cdr on one side and takes him through sequence Some hrumphing and Stn Cdr grudgingly accepts I had taken the correct action. . Did not give much for the chances of the guy that rang me. Later message passed round sqns that error was at HQ STC or 11 Gp, I forget which, and OC Accts not to blame

Finally, spare a thought for the officer from Command Accounts at Brampton and of the Jewish faith who volunteered to do Christmas Duty Staff Officer, and got the Lockerbie disaster to deal with

Was Orderly Officer as a stude at Finningley in 1981 when Nottinghamshire Police rang. There were riots going on across the country and they were expecting one in Nottingham. Part of the area was ill-served for street lighting so could they borrow some Very pistols from ATC so they could see what was going on? I expressed the opinion that this was unwise but referred them up to the Station Duty Officer (Nav Instructor) who firmly denied the request.

I was giving an evening talk at St Mawgan a few years back and was getting signed in at the guardroom when a car pulled up and a sergeant got out and went across to where the ensign was about to be lowered at 1800. He stood to attention and saluted as it came down, then got back in his car and drove back out of the camp.

I queried all this with the officer who was signing me in, Apparently there were so few officers left at St Mawgan that SNCOs took their turn as "orderly officer". Also it's now a duty which can be carried out from home - no requirement to stay and sleep on camp any more.

Times change.

And gentlemen, that's only the stuff they (the OC/OS) told you about!!

Wasn't a lot of fun being "it" in either position as in most places you had the misfortune of the RAF police "watching your back".

Most exciting......being deputised as stand in guard commander as the original had been involved in car crash (must admit pretty good excuse) and at 3 am having the distinctly unpleasent experience of a 18 yr old cook/anti-terrorist elite trooper **** up his unload drill in the pitch darkness, at least he understood STOP.

Leeming in 1987 was a building site, to the extent we were all going around in supply issued wellington boots due to all the construction work and mess on the roads. The guardroom is a portakabin sat in front of the under refurbishment permanent guardroom, opposite SHQ. I'm sat in the portakabin as Orderly Corporal (came round very frequently due to the lack of numbers) when I hear the sound of breaking glass. A civilian contractor has decided that the traffic cones that are being used to divert traffic around the construction areas will make effective weapons to smash the ground floor windows in SHQ. I'm not allowed to abandon the 'guardroom' so I phone the Orderly Sergeant to get down from the mess quickly as SHQ is deteriorating rapidly. I then had to phone plod in Bedale to attend because it was a civilian that was doing all the damage.

Luckily, the Flt Sgt got down to SHQ pretty rapid and managed to persuade the miscreant that he'd made his point and to stop. It was either that or he'd just run out of ammunition, the intervening 30 years has dulled my memory. Eventually the police arrived and carted him off.

The following week, lying on my pit in the barrack block and it sounds like the place is getting trashed. When I open my room door, I find the same guy is now trying to smash in one of the room doors down the corridor. He recognises me from the previous week and disappears.

I found out later that his wife worked in the airmen's mess and she'd been giving out more than second helpings. He was on a revenge mission.

OO one boring night at pre-pongo Wattisham...

Ring..ring "Evening sir, Orderly Sergeant speaking. An airman has been caught red-handed in the act of thieving, the RAFP have nicked him. Need you to come in and sort a few things".

Oh f*****g great, think I - and off I toddle to the guardroom.

"Evening Sergeant, how can I help?"
"The investigator is on his way and will explain all. Cup of tea, sir?"

Splendid chap. After a little while a character appears who is about as wide as he is tall, wearing a leather bomber jacket and looking like a tougher version of the late Lewis Collins ('Doyle' of The Professionals). He introduces himself as Cpl NNNN of the SIB... He produces notepad and pen and lays them out in a methodical manner.

"How can I help?", I ask.
"Well, I think you can probably leave it to me, sir. Unless we need to tumble Chummy's drum"
"You what? Are you allowed to do that?"
"I mean to search his accommodation, sir. It's an expression we use."
"Oh...right. I thought you meant to...give him a bit of a smack round the ears to get him to cough!"
"No sir, that's not allowed. Not indeed! Mind you, it'd probably save everyone's time if it was", he smiled.

Guilty airman was marched to the cells a little later and subsequently had short trip to a special holiday camp in Essex.

OO wasn't usually quite so entertaining. 'Domestics' were the worst...

Was Ord Cpl at Akrotiri Saturday 21st December 1963.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyprus...963%E2%80%9364

Spare a thought for me on resettlement leave about 10 miles away. :ooh:

Careless Danny got clearance to land at Thornaby one foggy Sunday, but landed at MSG in mistake (well, they were very much alike and only six miles apart).

"Three extra auxiliary weekends SDO !", said unamused Station Commander Monday morning.

Of course station duties were not supposed to be handed out as punishments. One of my troops tried to point this out to me as if I was unaware. I told him it was not a punishment but 'PQ enhancement training ' and if he objected to that then he aught to consider the alternative course of action that was open to me. He very quickly got the message.

BEagle, same deal at Coningsby. Duly arrived at barrack block with loca! RAFP. Shortly thereafter there Professionals from Northern Region arrive to put frighteners on.

"You don't need to stay if
you don't want to Sir"

I could take a hint.

Duly filed an NTR.

Later call from OC GD, white hadn't I reported this? Pointed out RAFP quite able to give a full report.

As a baby APO I never got called on to do OO stuff.. Probably wise given that my first taste of command was as 'escort officer' for the Pantech taking all our UAS's kit to Wildrenrath for summer camp. And it all went tits ..

As instructed, the Pantech driver obediently followed the escort vehicle (phew, top cover!) .. err, right under the canopy at the front of the OM, which unfortunately was several inches shorter than the vehicle... Worse, it was the day of the Summer Ball. Germanic efficiency though saved the day.

Times certainly do. When I was a Flt Off on OO over weekends; inspecting airmen' meals, checking armoury etc, I always envied the Flt Lt SDOs who sat about the mess in sports jackets, and seemed to have nothing to do. By the time I was a Flt Lt, the SDO had mysteriously moored into Duty Ops Officer or some such and Flt Its were OOs. Story of my life.

Sorry - careless. Never was Flt Off - should have written Pg Off. Still binary!

Shortly before I PVR'd, Brize made OO and SDO a combined duty. Late night phone call passed to me as being from the Duty Desk Officer at the *** newspaper. (NO significance to number of asterisks!) "Station Duty Officer, how can I help?"
"We'd like to arrange for a 1cwt bag of budgerigar seed to be loaded on the next flight to the Falklands. It's a special request."
.....................:hmm: :confused: :ooh: :suspect: :* := :E :mad: :mad: :p :ok: phone replaced with enthusiasm!
Oh ... and the date - April 1st!
Next afternoon a consignment of something arrived at an airbase in England for onward transport!!!

Duty dawg
 

On one occasion I forgot I was OO and went home. The Sgt Adjt covered up for me and apart from some beer I heard nothing more.

I had recurring nightmares even now and can't distinguish fact from fiction but I certainly i have missed flag lowering and the OS has covered.

Even in the 90s, provided we could react we could stay off base, I was 6 miles away. Rather than don No1s for defaulters I just wore the trench coat Mac. In compensation I would be soft on defaulters just pointing out duster fluff etc.
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I've posted this tale a couple of times before, but a quick search tells me the last time was 4 1/2 years ago so I guess it's time for a re-post:

And I STILL remember!

Honington in the mid 70s. The Ord Off and Ord Sgt pitch up together for the morning flag raising. Now, the flag pole was located opposite the guardroom at the main gate and so there were always plenty of customers for the standing to attention bit. Comes the time to raise, the OS can't find the whistle and after a panic search, still no whistle. "Well, YOU'LL just have to whistle" says the Ord Off to the Ord Sgt. Just try pursing you lips to whistle with the Ord Off facing you grinning like a Cheshire cat and an attentive audience from the many troops passing by.

At ISK the flag got stuck. I think the rope got looped over the gaff. Consternation. I calmly told the OS to organise a cherry picker PDQ before John Pack the staish saw it.

He was held in high regard and MT soon had the flag fixed. Don't know if JP ever knew.

Fire!
 

As the Station Rock at RAF Swinderby (about 1984-5) I was responsible for three main areas: initial GDT for all SRT recruits; GDT for the Station (and Lincolnshire County Military HQ); and the Station Fire Section. When, as OO, I was told of a fire in a MQ I duly ordered the Fire FS to the scene. The FS protested that he was there to respond to potential flying incidents not actual fires in MQ. I overruled him and the Fire Section subsequently rescued a lady from the upper floor of the burning MQ well before the local authority fire service arrived.

Carpetted by the Station Commander, I was informed that I didn't control the Fire Section - that honour belonged, he said, to OC ATC - and that I had put the EFT crews at risk by removing their crash/rescue cover. I replied that as far as I recalled I wrote their F6442s, was OC their barrack block and the Fire Section building, and heard their (many, many) Orderly Rooms as Junior Subordinate Commander. If OC ATC wanted to take on those tasks I'd be very happy. I also added for good measure that they had most certainly saved the lady's life.

The carpetting ended abruptly, I retained the Fire Section and the Station Commander bought me a beer at the next happy hour. And I'd do the same again.

Regards
Batco

Chivenor 1981. OO turns up a couple of minutes early to salute the flag one morning, only to find neither ensign nor Ord Sgt were present. Knowing that the Stn Cdr was a zealot for such things, he goes off to look for the missing Sgt.

A few minutes later, a little after the appointed hour for ensign hoisting, Ord Sgt rushes up with flag. On seeing no trace of the OO, he decides to blow whistle, hoist ensign, step back and salute it, then blow the whistle again.

All this is observed by an incandescent Stn Cdr, whose temper is raised further when the OO returns. "YOU, MY OFFICE, YOUR HAT NOW!"

Mate attempts to explain, but words fall on deaf ears and he is invited to volunteer for another 7 days of OO...

Later the Stn Cdr's office was moved to the new location in the posh new Handbrake House - and it overlooks the flag pole. I knew that it took exactly 10 sec to walk from the car parking spot to the saluting point and had seen the Stn Cdr peering out of his window, obviously hoping to catch another victim. But with 12 sec to go, I casually got out of my car, marched over to the saluting point and called "3...2...1...NOW" to the Ord Sgt. Ensign lowered exactly on time, but I could feel the Stn Cdr's glare on the back of my neck as I went back to the car... :)

Colt late 90s. I was SDO and was called out at about 2am to a fire in one of the airman's blocks. Fire crew (Station one) already on scene. Lots of scantily clad bodies milling around outside on the grass: More females than males!
That fire certainly spoilt someone's night of fun.

Luckily no major injuries but it was close, a tea-light candle had melted through the top of the TV it was on and set it alight. Room occupant had fallen asleep and had to be rescued. In one sense he was a very lucky man as you could see the silhouette made by the soot on his bed, but not as lucky as at least one of his mates (if you know what I mean ;-) )

As a young Cpl, I was acting Orderly Sgt while most of the unit was on exercise out in the bush. Nice and quiet, until some of the civilian employees - mess staff, cleaners - got on the turps and started doing damage. Called OO, who went white and broke into a sweat, and vanished. Trouble continued, so went to the guardroom, grabbed two large privates (that doesn't sound right), confiscated the remaining alcohol and read the riot act.

Troops return to barracks, Cpl Hydro told to report to Bn 2IC. Expecting a bollocking, get a 'Well done'. His teenage son, unknown to me, was one of the civilian employees, had seen what was happening and removed himself from the scene. Later reported to his father.

Oh, the confiscated alcohol? Who knows what became of it.:cool:

I was Ord Cpl at Kinloss the day Thomas Hamilton made himself front page news at Dunblane primary school, not really a major issue for for us but at the time the main gate to camp was being rebuilt so the Ord Cpl was shipped out to a portacabin by the back gate on the Findhorn road. As all the TV channels were filled with the coverage all night long all I had to watch was the gate guards (not very exciting) and an aged VHS cassette of Tommy Cooper (not marginally better).

Saying that I was also Ord Cpl at the same station the night the river Ness was going to break its banks into Inverness town centre. We'd just got rid of the defaulters, packed the solitary prisoner off to bed, bade the OO good night and settled down to watch some educational movies the Ord Sgt had provided, when the phone rang. This was the OO, we'd been requested to provide manpower to fill sandbags and shore up the river defences by the civilian council. So we packaed away the entertainment and started trying to work out what we needed and how to get it. Lossie was going to provide a 3 tonner and sandbags, so we had to find the manpower to fill and lay them, but where do you find a dozen "volunteers" at midnight?

By this time the OO was back in the guardroom and we all started ringing round. The duty airman was left to watch the front desk and provide refreshments while I was given the task of getting in-flight catering to provide box meals. Once I'd roused the duty sandwich mechanic, I told him we need 20 or so box meals delivered to guard room pronto. It took a bit of convincing that yes I was serious and no it wasn't a wind up, but I think what swung it was after telling him what we needed for the third time I casually said "well if you won't help, give me the number of the catering officer". After short silence he whispered "you wouldn't dare...." but without resorting to actually phoning his boss we got out meals.

Unfortunately the night shift Nimrod line could not provide manpower to assist, the snow and ice party was called out to swell the ranks and in the middle of all this a young fresh faced (and out of breath) WRAF burst through the guard room door and announced that some one had banged on her door and told her to report to the guardroom in her combats. She was then directed to get on the bus that had just pulled up outside, along with a dozen burly airmen who had been rounded up. She was next seen on the morning news trying to carry a sandbag...

By 04:00 the fuss had died down, the OO went off to write up his report and the Ord Sgt and I tried to fill in the daily occurrence book with approximate times for what we thought was the actual sequence of events. By the time the WRAF guardroom Sgt arrived we'd more or less sorted it out, the flag was up, the prisoner had been woken (he'd slept through the whole thing) and we were ready for knocking off. When the WRAF Sgt breezed in and asked "Quiet night then?" the Ord Sgt went "Well.....let me give you the headlines first...."

Reported for Orderly Corporal duty first thing at Akrotiri, only to be told to come back later.

Reason was that all the cells were full because the regiment had been building bazookas in the Pen Club out of tins cans and using lighter fluid to send all the light bulbs in the club flying around.

It took them all morning to deal with it, which was fine by me.

When I did finally report, only one prisoner was left in the cells and he was one of the stars of the 'Mata Hari' debacle, where a number of young lads were accused of spying, only for them all to be found not guilty at the Old Bailey.

Not "duty dog" story, rather more "always on duty". Early 80s and I was OC PSF at a fighter station in the Lincs Wolds. Quiet Sunday afternoon at girlfriend's house in Louth (she ex wife of a guy on same station since posted). Her phone (not a mobile in those days) rings, she answers and with a grim face hands phone to me. "It is the Binbrook Duty Officer for you, and tell him next time it would be polite to first ask if you are here!"

One of the 'funnies' I remember.
RAF Brandy,Sunny Pembrokeshire in the late 70's.

Elderly couple seen driving round peri track/taxyway - they ask somebody - ''Is this the road to St Davids ?'' :)

I would not have liked to be any of the Gate Guard team at the subsequent Inquiry/'interview' LOL.

Brandy had a fairly remote Gate Guard hut on the little lane which was the main entrance to the camp.

I was OO at Gatow one day while the Berlin Tattoo was on. The station and all the empty hangars were full of army personnel, horses etc up from "The Zone" as participants. Called to the guardroom late one evening as a soldier had been brought in, out of his brains, having tried to break up the NAAFI bar and take on all of the RAF Police. Had a look at him (from a sensible distance) and gave normal instructions to lock him up, supervise, call medics if necessary and I would sort out with army in the morning. Off to bed, then strolled down to guardroom at about 0700 to do one's duty. Asked Orderly Cpl how the man was. "No idea, sir. A very big and angry RSM came and got him at 0500." Thinking this is a bit of a cheek, disregarding RAF justice blah blah etc, passing RAF Police Cpl says - "I know where he is. One of the airfield mobile patrols is watching him running around the perimeter track pursued by an angry, big RSM in a Land Rover shouting at him all the time. He's been going round since 0500 - even the East German guards on the fence seem to be amused".
I left it at that. The army seemed to have everything under control.

One hazy summer Sunday afternoon in 1962 at what is now HMP Highpoint, the OO, APO Tim Hankey, was alerted by the guardroom that a light aircraft had landed. APO Tim, supported by a few members of our Nav Course made his way to the aircraft. They were lost, not difficult with so many airfields all looking the same.

What better place to land than the School of Navigation. Tim gave them directions with due allowance for wind and they were soon on their way.

Next day "Did you collect landing fees Hankey?"

OK. OO at Wildenrath early 60s as a Pilot Officer. Lowest of the low, always last in line! Evening duties required a fire check of the kitchen after it had closed. Did so - to find head chef and pretty head waitress hard at it on the 'Table, meat preparation'. (yes, honest) Nobody knew why from then on I only had to sit down at dinner to get instant service and the biggest steak! Mike T.

RAF Bicester – 1974. There was a national alarm, fuelled by the ‘red top’ newspapers, that terrorists were at large in the UK with man-portable anti-aircraft missiles, intending to target civilian airliners and/or military aircraft. We had, of course, quite a few Chipmunk aircraft based at Bicester although the rather better armed F-111 aircraft a few miles away at Upper Heyford might have been at more risk! One dark night, with the Alert State high, I was the OO and on my night patrol of the airfield perimeter. It was very dark as I entered the old WW II bomb dump area, totally unlit but still accessible with narrow roads between 10ft high mounds. It was overgrown with bushes and scrub and clearly a good lurking place for bad guys. Torch in hand, more than usually alert, I wandered along the tracks when suddenly there was the most almighty noise, crashing about and general mayhem in the bushes immediately to my right. Fearing the worst and preparing to run or fight(!) I was confronted by a ghostly white shape which went very fast right past my head, very close, followed by something bumping into my right leg! It was very nearly a ‘brown underpants moment’ and it took several minutes for my heart rate to fall after I realised that I had disturbed a fox intent on a meal of barn owl. A stiffener in the Mess Bar was required!