..when at Christmas, you would embark on a tour of all the section crew room bars (flying sqns, Police Flt, MT, etc, etc), meet Harry Staish along the way at least 4 times and push your cycle home because you got too fed up falling off it.

When a Typhoon had a piston engine and I watched them tipping Doodlebugs into the ground.

Thought they were Tempests? (same engine, thinner wing!)

Another JJ story
 

Swinderby, EFTS course on the interceptor T10 Chipmunk. JJ pitches up in the mess with a kids three wheel plastic tractor. The fun starts and the game consists of the driver being pushed by his mates down the mess corridor in the accomodation coridors towards the end wall. The aim of the mission is for the pushers to reach max speed and the driver to stay with the tractor as long as possible before ejecting before fatal decceleration occurs.

This has been going on for a couple of weeks and on the weekend the SDO is the squadron boss who lives to far away and will there for be in residence for the weekend. Saturday night in the bar is long and enjoyable and mention of the tractor arises. So at some time after midnight the boss say "JJ get the tractor". Well with top cover the said tractor is produced and the double doors either side of the mess entrance are pinned back. So after a few demonstration runs the boss declares that it's his turn. So we all get behind him and start to push. All goes well, we pass the door from the bar and through the first double doors into the mess entrance. Now at this point a number of things happen, first of all terminal velocity is achieved and the front wheel developes a shimmy. All would have been ok if it was not for the fact that the senior wives of the base had just decorated the christmas tree that morning.

Now we thought that we had done a very good job of putting it back as we found it, apparently not. The boss got it in the neck from the CO about the behaviour of the students.

When First Powered Solo In A Chipmunk

Station bikes
 

Yep, snigger!! :ok:

A muddy quarry in the wilds of Norfolk, sandbagging and the need to get a dumper truck started, Helicopter crew (3 off them ) all on a starter handle together trying to turn the diesel over... enter a JT Sootie who nonchalantly wanders over, "let me have a go" he says, leans on engine (pushing down decompressor) takes the handle and swings it into life with the other hand.... Helicopter crew look on amazed.....

Roll on 24 hours and it's been raining heavy, same crew having exhausted themselves trying to turn over the same engine again are seen trying to "bump start" the said dumper truck in a muddy quarry........... Priceless, you just can't buy gems like that.. :D:D

Silly kit inspections.

Those dreadful ex Korean War cold weather jackets (Yogi Bear type) and the even worse Canvas Outer that was provided in an attempt to waterproof them.

When every squadron seemed to have a couple of DFC's in their midst.

When the sound of an air-raid siren at Masirah was a call to work, while at the same time cautioning people to look extra carefully before crossing the runway.

When the sound of the same air-raid siren was also a call to the duty plod to round-up any stray donkeys on the airfield.

Climbing aboard a C130 at Akrotiri a little before dawn with a filthy hangover, marginally filling my duties as NCO i/c advance party before a tedious bumpy flight to Luqa only to be met on arrival by the duty mover who advised us a Serious Defect Signal had caused our Lightning’s to be grounded back at base and as soon as C130 was refueled we were to return to AKR. Arrived back after dark, house in Limassol blacked out, wifey out somewhere, no key to get in, repaired to local pub where several KEO’s provided the first comfort of the day, managed to be suitably mellow by time wifey returned home. Quite miffed when reported to the squadron next morning and was told “We did not expect you guys to come in today!”

The sight and sound of 56 launching the first pair of the day at Akrotiri (Lightning’s of course).

Lightning full reheat rotations.

Pontiuos, do you not mean "Drawers cellular" ?:ok:

The staiton laundry at Cranwell, which I swear had an operative at the end of the "ironing" line, with a hammer smashing buttons, especially pyjama buttons!

They turned the Morgue at Odius into a laundrette.

Tempests were quite different beasts....Different Fuselage, wing, tail, fin/rudder...not to mention Engine[s] :ok:

Proper air shows with lots of different aeroplanes.

Doc C

• DMS boots, thick nylon socks and wet feet.
• Much coveted Northern Ireland patrol boots.
• Waterproof jackets that made you wetter through inducing sweat rather than repulsing the rain.
• Puttees.
• When going through basic training meant simply being able to run quickly for weeks on end, shout and not fall asleep.

I was stunned at how astute and intelligent (I know that might cause a chuckle) many trainee gunners are today, and how insightful the training regime at Honington is (I think Training Wing there is the biggest Wing in the Service).

Likewise British Eagle Cottesmore to Butterworth, 1964, as part of the Confrontation strategy. The aircraft was named 'Bonaventure'. Forget how we were brought back.

You don't have lots of the same aeroplanes anymore much less different aeroplanes.:uhoh:

"You could hitch hike in uniform." and get there faster than the train!

Soon to be seen again, they are just awaiting the engine back from overhaul, though I doubt you will see a doodlebug..


https://cimg9.ibsrv.net/gimg/pprune....6e1f69270e.jpg

https://www.pistonheads.com/gassing/...t=1903331&i=60

Art Field sadly passed away some years ago now.

After RAFG got serious and banned none "service" calls to the UK, it was found one could still chat to ones mates by putting the call through via Hong Kong :E