Oh yeh, Lossie/Kinloss to Edinburgh way faster than the train, but for some reason not the other way round. Happy days.

… there was nothing unusual about a Sgt Pilot turning up in a Meteor for a weekend with his girlfriend.

… front-line FJ sqns were full of Fg Offs.

That's actually a Tempest II not a Typhoon, was very successful in the V1 tipping stakes though will be fantastic to see one fly again.

Of course it is, my error, meanwhile over at the group rebuilding a Typhoon to fly

https://hawkertyphoon.com/news

Must have been awfully cramped.....

More space in her Jaguar, if no other accommodation wa available.

Back to Chivenor in time for 2nd wave on Monday, IIRC. Sgt. B, c/s 69 [how apt].

When it took only three years from starting training to arriving on a fast jet squadron ....

When you flew 300 hours a year on a fast jet squadron ....

When you flew as low as you could get away with and tried to talk your way out of it if you were caught ....

When there were beers in the crewroom fridge and you could have one once 'the wheels were in the well' of the last take off ....

When there was no smoking within 8 hours of flying or drinking within 50 feet of an aeroplane ....

When you played darts, bridge and 'uckers' in the crewroom ....

When you could be current on 8 or 9 types (in a certain world) ...

When you went to the vault once a month to study your targets knowing that if you had to bomb them for real you would be too far away to make it home ....

When you lost 5 or 6 mates a year in accidents ....

When trust was an admirable quality and 'assurance' was not in the vocabulary ....

When judgement was essential and process was what they did to peas ....

When the 'f' word had four letters not three ...

When flying was dangerous and s*x was safe ....

Why on earth has it taken me so long to find this brilliant thread?!

Amongst the humour and happy memories I have some very poignant and vivid recollections. When your leader crashes, you lead the formation home, go and brief the Station Commander, go to the Mess for the night, launch every serviceable aeroplane the next morning and a week later from a helicopter you drop the wreaths from the memorial service into the sea at the accident lat/long you take away memories that will be with you for ever and which put your life and career into perspective. When 32 years later the person with whom you share an office dies in an accident and you see how differently that is handled you realise how our world has changed.

Regularly hitching between Coventry and Cottesmore, in uniform, was not a problem-until. Wanting to watch the final CCFC home game one Tuesday evening, and being overconfident of my hitchhiking prowess, I tried said journey in civvies. For the very last time. Reached Cottesmore in the small hours feeling like I'd walked half the way.
Walked almost the entire leg Uppingham/Oakham. That learned me!

Well said, LOMCEVAK. You and those you have lost have my respect and wishes for fair skies and following winds.

- Ed

There was a time when HGV drivers were the best source of a lift. Now, with the fears over hijacking, CCTV cameras onboard etc, I should think the chances are slim.

When a Lynham SAC mover got me a free, post leave, flight back to Goose Bay just simply by typing my name on the manifest. I had previously "gone through channels" and been told the flight was operational. Saved a shed full of cash, he was rewarded.

Manning a Snowplough being driven up Lyneham's main runway, singing my head off, and hearing a sweet wraf's voice, which i believe I recognised, and she me, over my headset saying ''you're on open mic'.

Hitch hiking with an RAF carry all often swung a lift. " I picked you up because I saw you had short hair and I recognised the bag"

And if you did get stuck in the early hours, finding the nearest Police Station, getting a bed for the night and a cooked breakfast before setting off again.

Indeed, Haraka! A lot of lads would use some of HM's dayglo tape to write R A F on the bottom of an aircrew holdall, then wear it like a backpack to improve their chances of a lift.

Chugging back to London University in my old Anglebox in the early '70s I gave such a chap a lift from the Andover bypass to wherever it was he was going. We chatted amiably for a while until he asked what I did and I told him I was an RAF APO. Then he became rather "You officer, me OR" and sat staring out of the window until I dropped him off.

The same Anglebox let me down when I was driving from Cranwell proudly wearing my thin stripe. Somewhere on the Fosse Way it finally decided enough was enough and I just made it to a lay-by. I walked to Stow and found a police station - and a wonderful country Bobby sorted out recovery of the car to a garage and knew of Mrs someone-or-other who would put me up for the night. Her late hubby had been in the RAF and she would always help out 'Her boys in blue'.

But when 'The Troubles' became a serious threat we were ordered never to appear in uniform off-base and to conceal our military identity at all times. Such a crying shame.

I guess there must be a few left on here or perhaps lurking, that made it from the front gate of RAF Cardington to a fast jet training Squadron (Meteors/Vampires) in 16 months. Then in their wisdom their lordships decided to stop training National Servicemen to be pilots. I guess that was also about the time that the Auxiliary squadrons go the chop. Those were the days!!

Same same here. The card we carried read 'Halt Waqif, Halt Waqif, Halt Waqif or I fire'. at which point with somewhat unsteady hands you were allowed to load your five rounds into the mag. Did you ever stand guard aon the far side of camp (Khormaksar) at the small gate facing open bondu with Sheikh Othman in the middle ground? Why the NLF didn't attack that gate when you'd be the only human for miles, completely alone, at night, is a mystery to me. The R.A.F. Regiment came round once a shift to check if you were still alive! Being MRT, we were more NAAFI than Cam Club.

DoF,
Yes, I also remeber having to sign for a 3d (old currencey!) coin at Cardington,to buy a cup of tea on the train to Bridgnorth! I did not make the 16 months you quote, it took me about 22 months to OCU but I was quite happy! I am more than aware, however, of many changes in the system, and still have the greatest admiration for the current guys that I am sometimes privledged to meet! It is still (in my humble opinion) the best Air Force going!

Bill

Thinking how old master aircrew looked when I was 23, and realising that they were all more than 10 years younger then than I am now!