RAF Stories: 2021

Every year our members send their RAF stories and anecdotes to Air Mail magazine for publication in the letters page. With 2022 now underway, we bring you a selection of those RAF stories submitted over the past year. From a helicopter winchman knocking on windows to a hammer-blow fixing a Hercules engine, we’re sure they’ll stir a few memories of your own.

A near-run thing

In the early 1970s I was on a parade where the local cadets, St. John’s Ambulance, Guides and Brownies were also represented. Afterwards, the RAF contingent boarded a waiting bus to be transported to the nearby British Legion club for a pint and a chat with the members. Before departing, however, our Commanding Officer leaned into the coach: “Thank you very much for an excellent turnout gentlemen”, he said. “I can honestly say you were the smartest body on parade.” The compliment was somewhat undermined when he added: “The Brownies were a very close second!” I’m still not sure to this day whether he was joking.

Jim Martin

Delivering from harm

As a helicopter winchman flying the Whirlwind Mk10 on search and rescue duties, I was involved when the River Medway in Kent flooded in 1968. We arrived on the scene to commence our search towards Edenbridge, which was under 4-5 feet of water. Circling over the town we noticed lights in the first floor window of a shop in the High Street. I was quickly lowered to investigate and saw a man inside. I banged on the window and he opened it, but refused to be lifted out. Apparently he was busy watching the television!

James B

The learning curve

In 1961, I was in charge of ATC squadrons on summer camp at RAF Watton. We had a Chipmunk for ‘air experience’ flights and, to get the cadets more involved, they were allowed to help with refuelling. One cadet, however, managed to spill fuel down the side of the aircraft and onto the ground. The cadet then asked whether he should get rid of this fuel by burning it off. The supervisor, thinking it was a joke, foolishly said “Yes, go ahead”. The cadet then produced a box of matches and set light to it! Catastrophe was averted by the quick-thinking supervisor, but that was the end of cadets helping to refuel.

Michael M

Green in the gills

While I was Officer Commanding Supply at RAF Cottesmore in 1992-94, we won two national Energy Efficiency awards for reducing consumption of electricity, gas and water. Our monitoring had revealed that the particularly lush greens on the nine-hole golf course resulted from major leaks in the incoming main, while the excessive consumption at the bomb dump was due to an illicit fish farm located in an emergency water tank! Other initiatives, such as fitting radiant panels in the hangars, which warmed people but not equipment, also helped. However, the suggestion that we work 09:00 – 16:00 in the winter and 07:00 – 18:00 in the summer to make best use of natural heat and light was less well received!

Dick T

Aerial oversight

During my service with the RAF Regiment in the early 1950s I was posted to RAF Celle in Germany. On one occasion the squadron took part in field exercises, deploying its guns on Lunenburg Heath. Each gun had its own portable toilet, commonly called ‘thunder boxes’. The toilets were well camouflaged with three-sided canvas walls and, though only temporary, the seats were scrubbed spotlessly clean to the point where they were actually white. When everything was set up a Vampire photographic aircraft flew over our positions to check the guns were well-hidden. When the film was developed however, each gun position was clearly located by a pattern of small white rings. An embarrassing lesson was learned that day.

Peter M

Pick your battles

One day in the late 1960s, I, a young airframe mechanic at RAF Marham, and my colleagues were on fire picket duty. The station had received an alert that the Palestine Liberation Organization, recently famous for airliner hijacks and an attack on Rome airport, would be targeting our airfield. Taken to the armoury, we were impressed to see substantial quantities of automatic rifles. However, we were directed past these and issued instead with pick-axe handles. Presumably the powers that be were more worried about us shooting holes in the Victor tankers than getting hurt. On receiving my ‘weapon’ I asked: “If they come at us with submachine guns do we throw the handles at them and run?” This comment very nearly got me on a charge, but I don’t think the sergeant could be bothered with the paperwork.

Chris S

Weight of authority

In 1998, at the age of 52, I had recently been commissioned as a Pilot Officer VR(T) in the Air Training Corps. I believe this made me, at the time, the oldest holder of this rank in the entire Corps. One morning at ATC summer camp at RAF Linton on Ouse, heading for breakfast I passed the Officers’ Mess. Spotting two Squadron Leaders and a Wing Commander I snapped up my best salute, to which the Wing Commander replied: “Good Morning SIR”. I can only assume that my girth and grey hair made more of an impression than the little thin bar on my rank slides!

Alastair A

If I had a hammer…

In 1978 it was common for Hercules aircraft to arrive at RAF Odiham to pick up soldiers for parachute training. On one occasion however, the Hercules was about to return home to RAF Lyneham when it was discovered that one of its four engines wouldn’t start. Unfortunately, none of the technicians on-station knew much about fixing a Hercules. Eventually a Puma was despatched to Lyneham to pick up a technician more familiar with the aircraft. Upon its return the technician jumped out, walked over to the Hercules, ascended a step ladder, opened the panel on the side of the dead engine, took a hammer out of his pocket, hit something on the pipes surrounding the engine and shut the panel. He cleared the steps from the aircraft and gave the thumbs-up to the pilot. The engine started at the first attempt. The technician then hopped into the back of the Hercules and headed back to Lyneham!

Doug R