...you could use your aircraft to get you home on a friday afternoon and return it discreetly on a sunday. Providing it was quite small, of course!

All RAF pilot trainees were given Basic Flying Training.....


















....on jet-propelled aeroplanes!

We were lions led by donkeys :E

When you were only issued with one pair of No2 trousers.

Less shirts than there were working days in the week.

Carrying your hold all with RAF in dayglo tape on the bottom guaranteed you a lift virtually anywhere without the fear of being bummed or shot.

A call to 7 SQN meant a flight in a Canberra that afternoon.

The Canberra never getting out of its parking space.

The highly trained, paid and Commisioned crew saying, "well lets pretend we're going somewhere" and making engine noises and jiggling around on the seats for a couple of minutes.

When Tennants cans had girls on them http://www.cannyscot.com/ - collect them all before you die of liver failure. And they were only 30p each.

When Curly Wurlys were so big you could use them as a ladder.

I can confim that the Bone/dogdoo explanation is true. I gave my dog a bone last year and his poo was white. I spent hours looking at it in fascination and getting that warm somewhere else feeling that you get, when listening to an old song for example.

Million Lira meal bill - Deci
Enrico's - Deci
BFG
10 DM hangover
Station Bikes
Regiment SWO's
All the Bases I had served at were still open!!!!!!
Macrahanish!
Turnhouse!
Chivenor!
Bruggen!
Laarbruch!
Wildenrath!
Gutersloh!
Americans flying from Goose Bay!

Ivor:E:E:E

Yes, I do remember when...
 

We still had Marine Craft Units.
We still had 'chippies'.
We had Duty Suppliers who actually answered the phone on the second ring at oh-my-god-O'clock.
We still had NCO pilots, even into the late '70's.
We had AOC's parades, complete with station bands.
We had lots of overseas bases.
We had lots of squadrons.
We had lots of aircraft.
We had lots of manpower to get the job done right.
We had lots of spares to get the job done right.
We scrambed for real.
We had no problem getting home and back at weekends because we thumbed it in uniform.
When on trains, we never knew when asked 'you must know my son/uncle/husband, he's in the RAF as well' because the RAF was BIG.
When all our aircraft were British.
When all the equipment on our aircraft was British.
When the Senior and VSO's earned their promotion.
When the VSO's listened and you saw results.
When you got well and truly gassed on GDT.
When each station had a gun club.
When we had FLM's.
When we had WRAF's.
When we got our full entitlement of cold weather kit.
When we were so proud of what we were part of that everyone tried to sign on.
When no-one tried to PVR.
When the rockapes used to brain themselves in the Pen Club fans.
When honkers was a delicacy.
When the RAF woud bend over backwards, officially or otherwise, to help you, one of their own.
When the only time you had to run was to catch the bus to the NAAFI.
When you could bum a lift in Anybody's-Air-Force aircraft.
When low flying was exciting because it was exciting, not because someone might screw you afterwards.
When there was always room on an indulgence flight.

Yes, I remember when...it was when I was young.

camlobe

Camlobe,

Ref the Pen Club, have we met??

I remember nights in the Pen Club (84-88) when;

We used to wheel the jukebox back to the block for the all nighters,

When the fans competitions started to get serious at fan speed 4 (I whimped out then).

When Butts stopped it at 5.

When Butts got back onto solids.

When the APC pengys were given their proper island arrival briefing. :E

When we used to ride our 'peds to the bar.

When officers had their own bar to go to.

When Fingers made the best flip flop sarnie on the island, for a quid.

When Costas used to shout 'Tosstey rrready!' and it sometimes almost was.

When we used to hold our July 5th VC night to annoy Olive Harvest, dressed in inside out NBC suits, tin AK47s and cone hats made out of reed beech mats.

When JJ decided he could jump off the roof and land in the bush outside the Pete's Gopping and very nearly made it.

When we had proper Summer Balls.

When Ratboy finished the US recce capability in the region when he beat up the TR1 pilot.

When it used to open up for us on the QT at 06:30 when we came off ops and we were asleep by 08:00.

When we'd each almost polish off half a demijohn of 6 month old Keo cocktail brandy.

And then take on the world.

When Brian Deeley made 3 of us move out of the block and live in trenches on the sqn for 1 week for getting caught fighting there.

Good nights.

Its 'Charlies' now, or something equally toss isn't it?

When officers contented themselves with saying 'Yes' instead of 'Absolutely'.

When the attendees on a stn execs GDT course would actually believe you when you told them that CS had been banned for H&S reasons and had now been replaced with a locally purchased lemon and jasmine room spray. :ugh:

When secondary duties were exactly that.

When you could sleep off an hangover by inspecting the camnet score.

When sqn cmdrs inspected accomadation and when we had bullnights and when mingers were given a regimental bath.

When the duty officer actually checked the JRM.

When Chris at RAF Benson served me Beef Wellington, my finest ever service meal.

When we had a stn library to go to.

When Sponge put Fullers Earth on the upper blades of my roof mounted room fan, and the stn cmdr decided to check it by switching it on. Standing underneath it.

When the ME had 'no NBC' threat.

When as a tyro RN P we lived in the SeeCo (sp?) Huts, the annexe to the OM at Leeming, and paid lower accom charges, as they were left over from WWII.

Pre-AFIs - where did they go?

It's called 'Tommy Tuckers' I believe, I agree................toss!:yuk:

We had: Bomber, Fighter, Transport, Technical Training, Flying Training, Coastal, Signals & Maintenance Commands. Far East Air Force, Near East Air Force, No 2 Allied Tactical Air Force.

AMWD, MPBW, PSA - when works jobs used to get done promptly by real tradesmen!

NAAFI dances at Spittlegate - WRAF training depot :)
same at Freckleton - nurses training

Doing Fire Bucket with a pick axe handle

No elf 'n safety

MAP

When Lenny Henry was bricking himself about appearing at the Xmas NAAFI Bop at Colt as the previous year the committee's choice didn't meet with the audiences favor and had been bottled!

When Air tragic would ask you to pull a brake chute off a Victor as it would'nt release so it could taxi back :eek::eek:

Wrapping a brake chute round the tailplane of a Lightning.

When the current SWO at ISL was an SAC :{:{:{ [Hi Gary]

Marshalling aircraft in a Batman Mask.

When a Danish groundcrew member brought his 10 year old son to Leuchars on the detachment Herk, and no one batted an eyelid.

Ugly Competitions :ok::ok:


God I'm getting old.

Eggy-bakes at the skippers house at o'ch:mad:t hundred with Mrs Skipper staying out of the kitchen.

Eggy-bakes at the Bawtry Cafe, in mess kit, after a dining-in night

No cabbage-kit

In cinemascope with and ordinary lens. James Bond 10 feet tall.

Mike Alpha Papa, you forgot MEAF

And RAF Eastleigh etc

Pen Club aka whatever it is called now...
 

AI R

Hello and maybe. Visited a number of times in the 'ole Grey Lady between '84 and '88.

The welcome brief (every time) from the plod i.e. it's not here...
Desert boots (personaly purchased but accepted as official footware)
Waking up in a DEEP storm drain complete with a Charlie hangover.
Brandy Sour's to die for.
Best haircut I've ever had from the guy by the SWO's office.
Button bay booze up's.
Ski Cub booze up's.
F4J-UK's having a bad time trying to get their radar gunsights right.
Bouncing monsoons.
Victors using ALL the runway even with brake chutes.
'Charlie' Chan not quite making it back.
The 'Blue Lagoon' LWB series Land Rover.
Quiet and later, not so quiet nights in Limassol.
Weekends at Aia Nappa (Oh, yes).
Convincing the Army MP that it was quite all right for me to ride a motorbike in the SBA without a helmet as I was an employee of BT.
Tatty Ton dropping the targets with no holes on the runway (re the F4 comment above).
Chit Chats that only complained when you stood on them.
Goats milk.
Cypriot taxi drivers from Hell.
Best steaks I have ever eaten.
Best fish meze's I have ever eaten.
The coke machines that never quite ran out no matter how much you drank.
The 'it's not here' doing circuits and bumps, and its chase vehicle.
The various parties.

And, of course, the quiet nights in the Pen Club.
The guys coming into work the following morning with 'fan rash' on their foreheads.
The one night when a guy from VASS came in with three girls. Thought he was on a winner. Laughed too loud too often, and got too pi$$ed. As the night went on the girls found other company. He was not a happy bunny. Think he had a fight instead.

Yeh, I remember the Pen Club.

camlobe

Cam,

Charlie Chan, the Lightning that crashed, right? I was working out of the Op on the hill behind the village (Bacon Grill Hill :E) and was down in the quarry, when Dave W came over the net telling us that a Lightning with big problems was coming in. We tanked it back out of the quarry as it whistled over. I think the motor had been turned off by that stage. He ejected with a flash and it bounced into a grapevine with a thunderclap and then ammo started cracking off. The ejection rail (I assume) was clattering against the fuselage. Very exciting stuff for a young shaver like me. He was ok I think, a wagon collected him.

The barber was Gary, and he's still there so I hear. The SWO I remember there was WO Sutherland, ex Scots Guards. I imported a XR2 (Rosso Red, alloys and sunroof, ohhh D519 GYK where are you?) and myself and Sensible Burgess took it for a spin down to Buttons. We burned off the SWO and he chased us. We pulled in and quickly removed our earrings. He chewed us a nice sphincter, but when I had my wedding reception down at Buttons (class act me), he was awesome. A top bloke, and just what a SWO should be like. He used to lurk in the bondu behind the garage and catch the APC guys moping over with hands in pocket and no hats on. Napa was awesome. I tell my kids that I went there when there were only 3 bars; VIPs, the Black and White and a.n other, I forget. Sleeping on the beach.. great times.

Is the grey lady, the Shack? I had a jolly on that, we had a peek at the Soviet fleet off Libya. I had come off a bike outside the block and had a broken wrist. The captain asked me if in my honest opinion I could parachute in a drama (chaaa.. :rolleyes:) and I said I could so he said 'hop aboard then'. Jammy Turner was so called because he lost his jolly in a Canberra that develped asymmetrical problems on take off and ended up upside down on North Ridge. He ended up doing a fod plod on the wreckage of the very a/c that he was going to be on. A Wessex crashed off Buttons too, with a medic and nurse on who didn't get off, very sad.

I was invariably on jankers and the preferred punishment was to sweep the main drag between the MGR and the Main Gate.. that must have been 2 miles at least. In summer, wearing ye olde body armour and tin lid. You can't crack me, I'm a rubber duck :ok:. The sqn boss was a guy called DT Bills, who is now bursar of Stamford School for girls I think. During one exchange with him, he was about to pass sentance on me and all of a sudden a local barged in, emptied the bin and walked out again with a cheery 'Hellllo!'. It was surreal. The stn cdr had a small vineyard by his office, and one night, I got in there with a WRAF APC. We idles the night away in various positions, munching grapes, but it was only 18 hours later that I was to find out he had sprayed them with a hideous chemical. My throat swelled up, the swine.

I went there a bright eyed boy and returned a gibbering wreck. Fighting with 2SG was the norm, but on one occasion, they had a guy raped by some Lebonese fishermen in the harbour, so G Coy got themselves a fleet of 4 tonners and one night, trashed every single Lebonese bar they could. Good drills :D. Those boys stuck together. Remember the Argylls killing the RAF SAC by dropping a paving slab on his head at the Pen Club? Bastards. There was also the Ay Nik spy drama, and the subsequent RAFP cock up. I was having a drink in a bar one night in limassol with Stupid Burgess and a middle aged guy with a Middle East complexion and an English public schoolboy accent started chatting with us.. 'So, tell me.. he said 'What are your thoughts on the inflammatory statement by that puppet Thatcher to about the latest attempts by the Soviet President to promote peace in the region?'. Subtle. We smirked and left.

Great great times.. and as for those nurses.. jeez. I had been working on one for months, and one Friday night, after Shaun had finished the Gadaffi Hop, I asked her if she'd like to come back for a coffee, a chat and perhaps to listen to my new Simple Minds album :yuk:. Anyway, she said yes and I almost yelped with excitement. She needed to collect her kitten though, from the WRAF Block and I said 'Of course!!'. Anyway, with the cat duly collected, back we went. Got her back and the cat decided to have the biggest loose sh#t all ever over my bed. I had bollocks like a mountain goat by that stage, and alas, was destined never to achieve the objective.:{

I was going to take a cheap shot and comment upon how appropriate it was that a Rock Ape should have a 'Simple Minds' album.....

But I won't, becaues your contributions reveal to today's kids how good things once were!

On the mighty Tin Triangle, we often took groundcrew lads with us on the 7th seat, as well as a Crew Chief on the 6th. One day we went to Goose with a happy youngster on the 7th; he was last seen disappearing off with the local det guys who promised to 'look after him'. This involved him being taken to some very dubious Newfie spots....

Some days later, the Boss ('Sweaters', later to Cat 5 himself in a Chipmunk...) and his crew came through on the way back from Offut to Scampton. During the evening in the pub, he asked how things were going.... "Well, fine Boss. Brought one of the groundcrew out on the 7th, he's been having a great time $hagging his way round North West River ever since!"

"Good lad! What's his name?"
"Cpl ******"
"!!!! - that's the bugger that's going out wiht my daughter. And you've let him screw his way through all those clap-ridden Newfies?"
"Another beer, Boss?"

Also went to Luqa. For youngsters, 'The Gut' had nothing to do with Gutersloh!

Such days!

That's if you've ever heard of Gutersloh, of course.......

Wegberg :O

Gutersloh?

Mmm. That was the stn I spent least time of all at, in RAFG and spent most time deployed off the unit, than on it. I enjoyed Wildenrath the most. In the 80's there was a documentary on the BBC about Wildenrath's TACEVAL. That would make fascinating watching today, it'd show just how much the role has changed in 25 years.

Ok, I remember Vulcans landing at Catterick.. to be burned. They closed the A1.

When Cpl MTDs were all over 50 with war medals and pilots wings
Drinking Tiger beer until closing time and then catching a taxi to changi village for a meal and not spending £2 all night
Going on the MT boat trip to Coney Island in the Jahore Straights and chatting up the Scaley Girls
Being called into the Flt Sgts Office the next day and told to stay away from his daughter
Being called into the Flt Sgts Office two weeks later and told I had volunteered to be posted to Kutching (I wonder why)
Catching the last truck back from Kutching Market Place to get back before Curfew
Flying in the whistling wheelbarrow or flying t*t, in Hastings, Twin Pins, Bevs Belverderes etc etc whenever you wanted after working nights on a sleeping shift.
Watching a film from the wrong side
Going on a Beach Trip with 50 others organised by Mabel from the WRVS
Watching Mabel in her Bikini (Bra and Pants) and thinking what a body
Waking up the next day to reality and realising Mabel was nearly 60
Being charged with Whilst on Active service did urin*ate against the Naafi Wall

Watching a Vulcan blow the last 15 feet of the runway down onto the road below whilst doing a roller

Station Call Outs
 

I remember the hooter going at 3 in the morning- packing 14 days kit (two pillows) in to a blue holdall and going off to war

Why was it always 3 am? Why did we never plan for Ivan to kick off after breakfast?

Ah...sweet nostalgia.

As a lad of 19 and on my birthday at RAF Eastleigh, being offered a lift at the gate by the CO on his way to Nairobi and him seeking me out the next day to ask if I'd got home OK. Do senior officers like that exist any more? Walking home in the mossie drains at Eastleigh to avoid falling in! Hitch-hiking safely from Nairobi to Kampala and back. Night-flying in a 30 Sqn Beverley to see the flare-path I'd laid from a pilot's point of view. "Brilliant" he said!

As an SAC at Cottesmore, opening Crash Gate One to let in one Johnny Johnson who always stopped for a chat. He reckoned he could be in his office before the snowdrops on the gate gabbed that he was on station. Being introduced to his replacement, one Gp Capt Martin[?] as, "the man who opens the crash gate for you"!

Always beating the aircrew to their Victor on Mickey Finns.[It was a matter of pride fellas!].

Sanding and repainting , at midnight,the Snowdrops shiny landrover which they had put on its side and then begged us for help to fix before morning.

Having transferred to the RNZAF, walking out at Mildenhall to the RNZAF DC6 taking me to NZ and realising the guy who offered to carry my bag was the aircraft captain!

Free Kokinelli.

Cisk & Hopleaf.

Leuchars. Leaving Hendersons at ten (closing time) to make last orders in the NAAFI.

The T-bar putting a barrel on to match the one bought by someone posted.

Being woken up at sunrise by the birds under the window, squabbling over the reminents of the previous night's technicolour yawn.

Voluntering to top up the emergency oxygen bottles first thing in the morning so you could sniff it to try and overcome a hangover.

All before I was 18!

I remember when a tour to the Falklands was considered crap and everyone would love to go somewhere like the Gulf instead if the possibility existed!

Getting a "Double Magic" from the guys at Butcher Radar for making the intersection turn off at Belize in a VC10 - I got quite a few "Crap" as well.

Beagle, you mentioned the Gut, celebrated my 21 st birthday down there, and was inert freight back to Akrotiri in an Argosy the next day, visited there out of interest a few years ago, it's now dentists and estate agents premises, the hop leaf still tastes the same.
The Pen club certainly has a battlefield history, during the complications in 1974 the Rock Apes took over and couldn't be shifted, the rozzers put the dogs in and that didn't work, when they were ejected they were put in the dog pens by the guardroom to sweat it out the next day, several people died through booze one way or another during that period.

Going up to Bellapaye and Kyreniia via Troudos on a motorbike, going on one week benders camping at Polis, seeing flamingos on Ladies Mile, really laid back posting,

Best regards,
om15

Your service number was just a number.

Singlies shared cars.

Monthly bar bill limit.

Merrydown Cider.

When Stores had nav bags etc over the counter.

When cold weather flying gloves came as gloves, left and gloves, right. Not as a pair and different colours.

Socks, flying, woollen plain and Socks, flying woollen ribbed, and Vests Raschall knitted (string to you and me)

Your word was your bond.

Hospitals at Halton (Son born there) , Ely, Nocton Hall, Wroughton, Cosford, Wegberg, BMH Singapore (Daughter born there)

12 months "not having" at Gan
Waiting on the jetty on Sat evenings for marine craft to go to Nurses Dance at Hittadu!
Dhoni races
Billet bars at Xmas
Ogling at female staging passengers on the pan and at the transit hotel (Blue Lagoon?)

Drawers, cellular
Stick, button,
Kit, sewing (or was it housewife?)

MQ inventories that listed Serviette Rings & Jelly Moulds, but for WO's only - that really gave you something to aim for!

When a pompous,self opiniated twit who was my head prefect was doing his national service and had to help strap me in to my ejector seat.

When the MO, Staish and Adj. all had time to see that you got the best deal poss when you had to go.

When the RAF made the effort to re-settle you as well.

River Swale crossings at 0430.
4 minutes for lunch.
Pokey Drill.
Keeping an eye out for the nurses minibus.
Sharing Xmas dinner with uncaring hungry Muslim children.
Army roast spuds basted with marmite. :ok:
Early breakfasts at the 'Wessex Restaurant'.
Leaving march out prep until the day before.
Eurocheques.
Being allowed to use electric floor buffers after 4 weeks of Basic training:ok::ok:.
The sheer pride at wearing my Reggie slides for the first time.
And OGs.
Falling naked into nettles at a leaving do.
Having my fingers mashed in the breach block of an M60 by the Flt 'enforcers' because I f#cked up once too often :E.
Thinking an SAC who was 27 was really old.
The wonderful smell of WRAF Blocks (well, compared to the Rock Block anyway).
Wet sleeping bags.
Lying in a shell scrape or in a bivvy, or in the OHP part of a fighting trench at night, and hearing someone looking for his relief and hoping to god it wasn't me and pretending to be asleep (frequently).
Throwing away the NBC filter packs of the CVR(T) and smuggling back bottles of spirits from RAFG (allegadly).
The face of the junior Royal Marine officer who dropped his 9mm into an African river from the helicopter just after saying the Regt was gash.
Trying edible candles.
Being sick.
Butts successfully shagging a tin of compo sausages with the middle ones removed.
Replacing the middle sausages.
Passing the tin over to the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers at hand over 2 hours later, who never got compo sausages.
(Ordinarily) Compo sausages :ok::ok::ok:.
Hearing the C5s and Blackhawks land at Akr and thinking 'What have the Americans been doing now?'.
African sunrises.
Happy African children.
Rigid raider patrols in the Med at night.
Wessex roping drills :=.
The stripper at Swinderby.
Doing bunny hops around the airfield at Catterick, in my No1s and with my bed pack on the shoulder. :{
Leaving a unit for the very last time.
Attesting in Swansea with my best mate.
Meeting up with my best mate at the Railway Station as we both travelled to Swinderby together from Port Talbot.
Remembering that excitement and nervousness I felt, when I woke up on the morning I left the RAF.
Despite the bullsh#t, wishing I could do it all again.

Bruggen…………
 

Being introduced to the Staish 4 days after arrival, whilst wearing a T-shirt with “You Fat Ba$tard” on the back in 3 inch dayglo letters:}
Getting your telly chipped at CIS Eng so it would work
Night flying meaning that you couldn’t follow Corrie on BFBS.
Augmentation force
Thursday night at the Rugby Club, Nurses from Wegberg, pink polar bears and wobbly
Friday night at the NAAFI Shag and Shuffle, then Roermond, St Georges square, Hermans (the beer boutique) the Blues bar and a Schwoarma
Saturday night Families and Fottie club, then MG “The street” or the Red Hen/Mucky Duck.
Taxi rank outside the NAAFI, full of cream Mercedes
Paying next to nothing for a Car/Stereo/Telly and 3 DM (a pound in old money) for a tin of beans
Sixth sense & the Forces Echo full of adverts for car headlights
BFG tick test, BFG roadworthiness check & fuel coupons.
The “No jerry cans” signs at the ports
BFBS Weather……”levanter cloud at Gibraltar, raining and windy in the Falklands……”
Ration cards for Gin, Tea and Tabs
Families NAAFI, Gifts and Stiffs, JHQ big NAAFI, JHQ BX, NATEX Geilenkirchen, NATEX Bike shop.
Huffy mountain bikes, Webber barbeques
Fear Dry Inn, Deafen Inn, Chicken Inn, Fix it Inn, The Frog and Radiator…the list goes on
Bugger…………it’s all gone:{

Taking ages to make one OHP transparency pre-Powerpoint days.

Seeing some god-awfully-tedious Provost Officer dump about 80 OHP slides on the right hand side of his talking torso and watch him gradually move them over to the left hand side during the 2 hours it took him to lecture us about RAF Security during IOT.

I still have nightmares. We had enjoyed the NAAFI wine tasting night the evening before and people were desperate to throw up or pee but there was no escape!:bored:

Being asleep during a 24-hour shift under a console in full IPE during Neatishead's Taceval, and being kicked awake by the FA because we were launching more F4s out of Wattisham.
The front door of SHQ being only for use by officers and WOs only.
Not having prices on the evening menu in the mess!
Having a problem with a Married Quarter that was sorted out by going and speaking nicely to a WO and, whilst we're on the subject, workmen who we're employed on the patch, so actually gave (or were allowed to give) a crap about the quality of work they did.
Being able to call someone a puff without it resulting in a sharp intake of breath from all around you.
Watching The Dambusters Film and hearing the Dog's real name (Nigger).
A fighter that couldn't turn and maintain level at FL390, so had to go into Dutch airspace to avoid descending into an Airbus at FL370! Oh, sorry, it's still in service.
Airways having colours!
Sufficient airspace south of Y70 to do 2 lots of PIs in (and enough servicable fighters to manage it!).
Service papers that actually made sense (even if you didn't agree with them)instead of being so full of management bolleaux that the only one who understood it was the author (and there is some doubt about that).
A Service that set standards for itself, based on the actual task required of it, rather than being reliant on external validation by (ex mil!) management consultants, most of whose work is carried out by us, just so we can have IIP/ISO9000 or whatever this month's latest fad is on the bottom of the corporate letter head.
Headed notepaper that didn't need a 'corporate logo', because the RAF Crest said it all.
Not being allowed to use charts as they were too expensive, so having to
rely on hand-drawn copies to keep crews out of active danger areas.
Service chefs (I know there are still a few out there - keep up the good work!).
Annual Leave.

I now need to go and lie down.:*

STH

MAP - you beat me to it.

Persuading the transport crews to wait at the jetty for the ferry to the Nurses Dance on Hittadu

Chip suppers in the Blue Lagoon after long sorties (and that first beer when the changeover SAR crew arrived).

The all night (and most of the following day) bridge games - where are you George H?

The relief on leaving/the relief on finding Gan.

Mail drops to Diego Garcia (and the first approach ever to its newly built but not finished runway).

Flying Officer crews.

When FEAF was only 17 hours by VC10.

When marriage allowance was abolished and everybody got the new 'military salary' - the day before I got married!

The OMQs for JO's at ISK were the caravans at Findhorn.

'4 for Kirkie (SP?)/Uckers/Bridge etc' - and that would include the boss.

Promotions were based on primary performance not secondary duties.

But we couldn't fly past 55.

The Barnsley witch at Finningley. Recpetionist during the week and the main event at Marham at weekends.