Ron Wheatman - His days in the RAF
Ron, sadly, is no longer with us, but his story lives on with his memoirs. Ron was a colourful character and always made his presence known. He was the only ground crew member of 30 Squadron to be in the Association, and will be sadly missed. Read on and enjoy his journey in the RAF…
The summer of 1946 was typical glorious English Summer. If I remember correctly, it was a hot dry and glorious summer. It was on such a Saturday that my ‘next door’ friend and I took the local bus into the city centre. (Newcastle on Tyne) This was our day to ‘show off’. We ambled round the shops eyeing up all the girls, fancying ourselves as the local Errol Flynn’s. We had a look in the record shop to listen to the ‘Big Band’ releases; we were fans of Artie Shaw and naturally of course Glenn Miller. So would pass a couple of hours until it was time to adjourn to the local hostelry where we would imbibe a beer or two.
Ron in classic pose!
Saturday was also the local Pontoon day where a ticket would cost 2/6; we used to make sure that we always had enough cash to buy our ticket. This particular day was our lucky day as we scooped the ‘Jackpot’! A monstrous £15. After playing the ‘big men’, buying all and sundry a drink we rolled out of the pub about two hours later with only a few copper coins in our pockets. ‘Now What’ we said and decided we would head for the quayside and ‘ogle birds’, have a cup of coffee and sober up a bit. On the way to the Quayside we had to pass along Jubilee Road, where Jubilee School was located (where else!) At this time the school was used as a local recruiting office for Newcastle, Army on the ground floor, and Navy on the second floor and RAF on the third floor.
We stood outside the main entrance deliberating who would go first, we finally decided the issue by tossing a coin, and I lost. So, in I went to the Army office to be greeted by a chap in a brown uniform and two stripes on his arm.
‘What can I do for you young man’? ‘I want to be an engineer’. ‘Well now, our engineers are all in the R.E.M.E but we aren’t taking any more people at the moment”. ‘So off I went upstairs to the Navy office, where basically the same thing happened except, they would call me in 6 to 9 months. Upstairs I went to the R.A.F office.
After telling them what I wanted to be, they came up with a F.M.E, but I would have to sign on for 10 years with two in the reserve. I was given a paper with a lot of squares, circles and triangles all dissected into various shapes and sizes that had to be assembled correctly. I must admit that I found the task quite easy. I handed in the paper to the person sitting at the desk. ‘Finished already’ and promptly checked it out ‘well done, you’ve done really well’ and handed a bundle of papers ‘get these signed and send them off to the address on the top of the form, this was done and five months later I was told to report to R.A.F Cardington.
After a lot of being pushed and shoved, sorted out into various huts, came the day when about 50 of us were packed into a small Nissan hut and given a lecture on honour, loyalty, obedience etc. ‘This is your last chance to change your mind about signing on in the Air Force. ‘Anyone wishing to, can leave, collect a rail warrant from the desk at the back’. At this point about 4/5 left. The rest of us then took the allegiance in unison. The next stage was the signing up for real which I did. I was given a brand new shilling piece, which I promptly spent in the N.A.F.F.I on tea and ‘wads’. The date was 16th December 1946 and so began my career in the R.A.F that was to last for twenty three years.
At this stage we were allocated to our specific huts, mine was 417; each hut housed about 30 men. It was interesting to point out at this stage, amongst the 30 men was ex Sqn Ldr still wearing his wings, an ex W/O signaller, two ex Sgt’s R.A.F Regiment, still wearing khaki uniforms with bare patches on their arms where stripes had been. So there I was, a young 17 year old amongst these old sweats who took me under their wing and made sure that no one messed me about.
History shows that the 1946 winter was one of the worst for 50 years and our little ‘pot-bellied’ stove just could not keep us warm enough, also there was an acute shortage of fuel and supplies. After a week the decision was taken to close the station and all personnel were sent home on leave. I travelled to Newcastle and took with me one of the chaps from the hut, one Watson Sowerby.
We stayed with my parents for a week, and then decided to go to Watson’s home in Kirkby Stephen. We left Newcastle railway station and headed for Durham, where we had to change for Bishop Auckland. On arriving we were informed that the Kirkby Stephen line was completely blocked, there were two trains buried in the snow drifts! As Watson was a local lad we decided to walk the 12 miles to his home. We actually were walking on the top of the trains part of the way, needless to say we made it, arriving at Watson’s home about 03.45, his dear old mum took it all in her stride and set about making us a hot drink, and putting hot water bottles in our beds.
I stayed with Watson for two weeks when we received a telegram to report back to Cardington. It may be worth pointing out at this stage that the snow kept on falling, the two buried trains were finally released from their icy “shed” by two Rolls Royce Derwent engines fastened to a railway “flatbed” wagon. Even with these it took two days to get them clear.
Life at Cardington started afresh with all our drilling, marching taking place in the Airship sheds, and it was bloody cold, the huts were not much better and to see us all huddled around the stove to keep warm we felt like a bunch of Eskimo’s, We had our own roster to go out after dark “foraging” for anything that would burn.
Whilst trying to take in the basics of RAF life, we had to contend with vaccinations and injections, which needless to say, left some of us “bowled” over with vaccine fever, me included! I was bed bound for three days. We eventually recovered and joined the rest of the squad preparing for our passing out parade. After only one day, I collapsed during drill practice with a suspected Appendicitis and was rushed off to Ely hospital, my stay was only about a week, during which time I was issued with a bright blue uniform with a white shirt and red tie and was told to go for a walk into Ely. Of the city itself I have absolutely no recollection.
Anyway, back to Cardington I went, only to find that my entry had passed out and were scattered to the Four Winds. It was proposed to put me into the next new entry but after some deliberation I was posted out to RAF Ouston, Northumberland on to 607 Auxiliary Sqn who at that time were operating Spitfire 21s along with a Harvard.
Boy! Oh! Boy! I thought I'm really in the Air Force. After “arriving” on the unit and being allocated my accommodation I eventually arrived at the Sqn Nissan hut on the far side of the airfield and was ushered in to the Flt Sgt's office, who after a short chat introduced me to the Flt Order book, “read and sign the back of each order then let me have it back, then I will introduce you to your Cpl who will be looking after you”. That done I was given the job of a plug change using a long, weird spanner with “wobbly” end, which I later learned was called a universal joint. If my memory serves me correctly the hardest job was getting the leads back without “cross-threading“ them. My Cpl checked the plugs and leads then announced, “right lad we’ll do a ground run and I’ll show you how to start one of these things, you go and get the tie down chocks while I get the tail over the tie down ring.” At this point it may help to clarify what we were doing. The chocks were fastened together with a steel tube with a steel ring welded to the outside of each chock, a steel cable was attached to each ring and lead back to the tie down ring under the tail and connected to a thick canvas strap which was placed over the tail, and the whole thing securely fixed to the tie down ring, this allowed the aircraft to be run up to full power without tipping up on its nose. The Cpl started the aircraft and did the full power check then throttled back, got out of the seat, called me over and put me in the cockpit, put my hand on the throttle and slowly opened up the engine, not to full power I might add, Boy didn’t I feel important. It was the first of a few I managed to help out with. Another first came a few weeks later when I was given the chance to go for a flight in the Harvard with a Ceylonese pilot. The day sticks in my mind because it was the day of the Hexham races, as we circled around the area, I was looking out the left side when the pilot decided to go off to the right, I learnt then why I had been given a “sick bag”, another first! Still, it was the experience that counted.
The domestic area of the camp was quite a distance so we would travel backwards and forwards in a TCV (troop carrying vehicle) used mainly as an aircrew bus during the war. On one such run, one of the chaps was standing on the back step ready to make a quick dash for the billet. Unfortunately, his ring got hooked up on the top of the door and as he jumped off he left his finger and his ring on the “garry” door. He actually covered about a 100 yds when it hit home, and he passed out. We got the driver to take him and his finger to sick quarters. I never did find out what happened to the chap as I was posted out to St Athan, 4S of TT to start my Flight Mech’s course. The train journey to St. Athan routed me via London King’s cross and Paddington and the trains were jammed pack full and humping a kit bag, record player and records I wasn’t feeling the most able of men. It is worth mentioning that 99% of the people travelling, were in uniform and in consequence the London stations were literally crawling with Military Police, who got the most fiendish delight in causing a body the most discomfort they possibly could and when the time came to board your train, getting everyone into a queue and then asking to see your travel documents, but they might as well not have been there in the first place. Once past these “blockheads” a free for all mad dash was made to get a seat with a “no holds barred attitude” regardless of sex or creed.
After leaving London bound for Cardiff and a change for Gileston, which was the local station for the camp, about twelve of us arrived at the same time and not a soul to give us any information apart from a telephone for new arrivals to use. I telephoned and a voice at the other end gave us Instructions how to get to the camp. ”What about some transport?” - “no chance” was the reply. For people who know the place, it’s a long drag uphill through the village and up to the camp, a good 2 miles.
We made it to the guardroom, which was right on the main road, to be greeted by an immaculately turned out “snotty” SP. He said with the usual sarcastic policeman’s manner “you are a scruffy lot report to hut N3 where you will be allocated your hut. I was allocated to hut N22 and was very happy to see the two ex-sgts and the ex-RAF regiment cpl, along with a dozen or so other chaps. Again, fortune seemed to smile on me as the three “old sweats” took me under their wing. So began my “Flight Mech” training, this period of 6 months is story of its own. The thing that sticks out in my memory is the vast number of students that used to cross the main road that divided east side of the camp from the west. Being the youngest in the billet I was given the job of getting everyone outside, falling in three’s and starting us off on our way to the classrooms. The time taken for the whole of the “east” side to cross the main road was 20-25 minutes. In amongst this horde were the Flight Engineers who were doing their training on a Lancaster in the hangar next to ours.
One thing that has remained prominent in my memory was a very odd-looking engine that was situated in the centre of the hangar in a roped off area and given a very strong warning. “Do not touch at any price”. It was a Mk.1 Rolls Royce ”Welland” . Of all the aircraft I was to come into contact with I never once saw a Welland engine.
Eventually the training came to an end, and I managed to just make the grade as AC1. During the last weeks of training, we were asked for our preference of posting, I applied to go overseas and after 7days leave I arrived at No5 PDC Burtonwood Lancs. This consisted of motley” lot of Nissan huts, some with no roofs, doors and windows missing. After collecting my bedding I was told, go find yourself a decent hut if you can. After looking in quite a few I eventually found one with a whole roof, all the windows intact, the doors were on and closed, the wardrobes were still in one piece, and I suppose most important of all the beds were dry and clean. There were 5 others in the hut besides me, 2 LACs, a Cpl and a couple of Erk’s like myself. The first night was new boy, new scavenger, I found a part broken wardrobe which was promptly consumed by the pot-bellied stove.
The following morning we assembled in a Nissan hut which consisted of the outside walls only. After a few minutes in came little tubby warrant officer, climbed up on a non-to steady a-chair, “Right you lot, pin back your lug holes the following names are on DraftWa235 and before you ask - it’s for Rhodesia. Wait outside and I’ll take you to get your Jabs and your KD”. Ten of us were called including me. We were then taken down to long wooden hut, given an armful of KD and taken to the other end of the hut to get our Jabs. Once we were through with that lot, up popped our little WO “OK you lot report tomorrow morning for further instructions” with that he promptly disappeared. The next morning we reported as usual and true to form in came our little WO up on his chair he hopped “right you lot, those on draft Wa235 you’ll be pleased to hear, a minutes pause, it’s been cancelled, you're on draft Wa654 to the Canal Zone so hang on to your kit and await further instructions”, True to form we reported the next morning and true to form in came our little WO up on to his chair he hopped, “Right you lot” we all called out in unison “alright you shower settle down, you’ll be pleased to hear that draftWa654 has been cancelled , and you're all going to Germany. So you can hand in all your KD and report here tomorrow morning which we all did only to be told “Cancelled". “Wheatman.” He called out, “you're posted to Oakington Cambridgeshire, report to the orderly room and get cleared . Two other chaps were also posted and we eventually arrived on March railway station where it was necessary to phone the MT at Oakington for transport.
After arriving on the station, I was assigned to 30 Sqn. This would now be Jan’48. One of the first jobs given to me was to assist on night flying and I remember quite vividly marshalling a Dakota by the control tower and quite happily waving the torch come blue wands when I was suddenly aware of another Dak coming up behind me. Fortunately, for me, both pilots became aware of the situation and both stopped!
RAF Oakington
Life at Oakington was a happy time for me, with evenings spent at the New Inn in the village and the riotous times staggering back to the billet round the peri-track. From what I remember after all this time was we worked hard and played hard. One other thing comes to mind, a visiting Lancaster developed an oil leak and the Cpl who was accompanying the aircraft wanted a hand. It turned out to be a cylinder oil leak, which meant a Block change or a 3-engine return to base. The Cpl decided to do the block change and I felt quite at ease helping him as it hadn't been too long ago at St Athan I had done this two or three times. The job was duly finished, and Air Test required. I was given the chance to go along and spent the entire air test lying in the Bomb Aimer’s position; to a young lad it was trip of a lifetime. In May of that year I caught one hell of a dose of ‘flu' and ended up in the station sick quarters during which time the Sqn had gone to Germany, Schleswig Holstein on training exercise for the Para’s. When I came out of SSQ I was temporally attached to 238 Sqn to await the 30 Sqn’s return. Before that happened, the Russians decided to close all rail links into the capital Berlin. I remember 238’s WO, Harry Meliah getting us all out of bed and telling us “pack enough kit in your small pack your going to Germany in three hours, you’ll be away about 72 hours”. I never did get back to Oakington to collect the rest of my kit, nor do I know what happened to it. The rest is history, The Berlin Airlift started at RAF Wunsdorf, then on to RAF Fassberg and finally finished at RAF Lubeck. This period of the airlift proved to be the busiest for me, I spent all my time doing engine and propeller changes and any other major snags that the flight line couldn’t handle. The airlift ended in the September of 1949, I expected to return to Oakington, but instead I was posted to RAF Sylt, an island off the north coast of Germany and just south of the Danish border. It was number 5 APC and was operating target towing Miles Martinets.
The Miles M.25 Martinet was a target tug aircraft of the Royal Air Force and Fleet Air Arm that was in service during the Second World War. It was the first British aircraft to be designed specifically for target towing.
There were five of us and as we were crossing the Hindenburg Dam in the train, a Martinet flew alongside and below the train; it made a very impressive sight. The Martinet was designed purely as a target towing aircraft with a hand operated winch which was operated by an LAC whose flying pay at that time was 3 old pence a day. It didn’t take long to get into the maintenance routine. The engine was a Bristol Mercury 9-cylinder radial, the propeller was a 3 bladed Dowty Rotol Bracket type and after my experiences on the Pratt and Witney engines and the Hamilton propellers of the Dakota, it was an “Easy Peasey” ride; although more fiddly and oily.
One of the major things that stick in my mind was the competition between the pilots to see who could get the most corn in the drogue by flying low over the corn field in the centre of the airfield using the ‘prop as the cutter. The drogue operator would release the drogue at the last moment; the whole thing was weighed and for the loser, it was Beers all round. To the best of my knowledge a Ceylonese Sgt pilot was the overall winner.
1949 rolled on to 1950 and after a cold snowy winter, summer came along at the same time the Hawker Tempest Mk.5&6 appeared on the station to replace the Martinets. It also meant losing our drogue operators. The Martinets had their wings removed and any other useful valuable equipment. We then pushed them on to the dump for the Fire service to practice on.
The Tempest had an electric winch that weighed about 500 lbs fastened under the port wing and to counterbalance it a 50-gallon water tank was fastened under the starboard wing. The whole of this equipment proved to be a complete failure and I understand that after I returned to the U.K. both winch and water tanks were removed and the old-fashioned way of connecting the drogue was done at the end of the runway and hitched on to the aircraft by the ever available “erk”.
The engine that powered the Tempest was the Napier Sabre, 24-cylinder sleeve valve which had proved itself in the Typhoon as a low flying, rocket firing tank buster. It was a monster of an engine and could be one of the biggest problems to start it with its cartridge starting system. I was also allocated a Meteor 7 to look after along with a Mosquito Mk 35. The opportunity to fly in these aircraft was always available. The most memorable was a flight in the Meteor with a Polish pilot. We took off and climbed to about 30000 ft and headed South to circle over Hamburg and Lubeck and then headed back to Sylt. Looking down at the island from that altitude, the whole of the island looked like a picture post card. During the flight the pilot had been talking to me. He said, “we’re going down now” and with that we came down practically vertical and levelled out to fly over the airfield. We then climbed up again in a loop, started to make his approach for landing “upside down” and at the last minute rolled over to make a perfect 3-point landing. I don’t think I had ever been so scared in all my life, but it was the trip of a lifetime.
In January 51, the new trade ranks came into being, my two bladed prop became a 3 bladed prop and I also opted to change to the repair and overhaul side of my trade. In March 52, I was posted home to a M.U. but it turned out to be a bomb storage maintenance unit; needless to say I was not very happy. The unit was Acaster Malbis in North Yorkshire.
After a couple of months or so I was posted to 32 M.U. at RAF St. Athan. The job entailed stripping, cleaning, viewing and rebuilding Merlin 224 engines and a very interesting job it was too. These engines were replaced by Rolls Royce Derwent 8 engines and the same procedures were carried out. About 4 months later I was posted “across” the airfield to 4s of technical training to do the “fitters” course which I passed and attained the rank of J/T and returned to the M.U. A month later I was promoted to Cpl. and posted out to RAF Topcliffe in Yorkshire again. This time I was put on to the servicing teams working on Neptunes. The first person to greet me was my old Flt Sgt from Sylt so I was reasonably happy with my lot.
The Neptune was a stopgap aircraft to replace the Hastings and waiting for the Shackleton to come on stream; the Americans called it the PV2.
The engines were Wright Cyclones and a “compound” engine. The exhausts from the engine were routed together and discharged through three small turbines which gave an added 100 H.P. each which was used to drive the gearbox. The same engine was used on the Liberators during the war I think. 0nly one memorable thing happened whilst at Topcliffe; I had completed a double engine change and elected to go on air test. What they hadn’t told me was that it had been decided to incorporate the air test into a sortie and 18 hours later I landed! One particular day, three of the cpls from the hangar were sent across to Castle Archdale in Northern Ireland to do a Junior Management course. I met a couple of friends from the Berlin Airlift period and all in all it was quite an enjoyable time. Castle Archdale had been a Sunderland base during the war. On my return to Topcliffe, now 1955. I found out that I had been posted to R.A.F Gutersloh in Germany on to No. 2 Group Communications Flight.
No 2 Group Communications Flight was stationed at RAF Sundern which was about a half hours drive away and the AOC was AVM Hallins–Potts; he only had one eye and wore a patch over his left eye. The SASO was Group Captain Donaldson and one other I remember was Group Captain Murphy. The Communications Flight CO was Flt Lt Chris Brownlow (pilot) Jack Ward was the 2nd pilot; a recently promoted Fg Off and the navigator was Fg Off Maurice Young.
Down stairs, was where all the work was done by a Flt Sgt, a Sgt, two Cpls and ten men .This was my introduction to the Mk19 Anson with its two Cheetah engines. Also on the flight were two Prentice aircraft, plus a Meteor7, which was quite familiar to me after my time at Sylt. The Prentice was a side-by-side dual trainer and used mostly by 2 Gp pilots to “Get their hours in”. I had many a happy flight in the Prentice with the pilots who came from group. Group Captain Murphy had a big thing about being able to do a perfect reverse turn; I even had a few goes myself. The engine in the Prentice was a Gypsy 32 made by De-Havilland; a very nice engine but needed to be handled with care especially during servicing when checking the magnetos as the ignition system became “alive” and with any turning of the propeller the thing could “burst into life”. So there were big notices, and DO NOT TURN was the order of the day.
I would also accompany Group Captain Donaldson on his round robin inspections of two or three stations within the Group. On these occasions, I had to have my white overalls so that I could carry out any servicing should it be needed. I used to get quite a lot of hands-on in the Anson, although it is true to say it flew itself. Groupie used to say “just follow the railway line and watch your altitude“. On one or two occasions I flew with the AOC in the Meteor, so a few more chances came my way to get some “hands on”. One of my other jobs was that of Convoy Commander. Each month I would take 6 Magirus 3-ton trucks out to some place of interest to make sure that all my drivers understood the basics of convoy driving. I also had to teach all the airmen on the comms flt how to drive. It was at Gutersloh that I decided to extend my service to 55 with option of leaving at 22 yrs with the princely sum of £300(bafs) occupation money. Not long after I was posted back to UK and lo and behold back to St.Athan; this time on to the airfield side of the tech training. This brought me in touch with more different aircraft, although these aircraft would never fly, they still had to be kept in full operating condition. This was quite a task as the “boy entrants” used to take out engines, remove other major components and invariably never finished their jobs and so it was left to my other Cpl and I to put all together again. The Prentice we had for marshalling training had the large majority of its wings removed to make it more manoeuvrable and I used to get great pleasure chasing the trainees around the marshalling area. I did also learn a hell of a lot about the Swift, Hunter Mk6 Javelin, Balliol and Chipmunk. The Chipmunk was used for ATC flights at the weekend and so more chances came to get hands -on. I stayed in this job for 2yrs until a ch tech was posted in who proceeded to change what we had been doing for the last 2yrs. I applied for a posting and was rewarded with a posting to RAF Luqa, Malta on to the visiting aircraft flight. By this time, I was married with two children, so we trained up to RAF Hendon to spend the night and the next morning we were bussed to Gatwick and so off to Malta.
On the section of VASF were a few Maltese airmen, cpls and I think a sgt. At this time Malta was a very busy place, the Comet 2was a regular visitor doing trials with SSB radio. The Pakistani Air Force was Ferrying out Bristol Freighters. Whilst sorting out a problem on one of the aircraft propellers, I suggested to the crew that an air test would be beneficial, and they agreed. So off we lumbered out on to the end of the runway with brakes moaning and groaning all the time. Off we went and did a couple of circuits whilst giving the prop a good working out. While I was up front there was this constant singing noise coming from the rear of the aircraft. I went aft to see what it was and it turned out to be the control wire cables vibrating, as well as the whole fuselage creaking and groaning. I would have hated to have flown all the way from UK to Pakistan in these lumbering machines. Much of my work involved the Hastings and the Beverley, with a few Hunters thrown in and regularly seeing to Canberra’s. I did enjoy the work and was quite proficient at engine running all the different types. Halfway through my tour I decided that I’d been a cpl long enough and started studying to take my technician boards for Senior Tech and then Ch Tech. To take the board, I had to go to Nicosia in Cyprus. I hitched a lift in a Hastings, spent two days on the board, passed and hitched a lift back to Malta in a Beverley. It was the one and only time I flew in the boom. It felt like it was corkscrewing through the air.
Once back in Malta I got my 3 stripes sown on and the first person to ring and congratulate me was the SWO who also said in the same breath “you’re orderly Sgt tomorrow”. Once back at VASF, I was informed that I was posted across to the Canberra servicing flt. I was introduced to a Flt Sgt Davies who told me you are i/c engines from now on. The Canberras were from 39 Sqn. My experience out on the visiting aircraft pan stood me in good stead.
The other Sqn at Malta was 201, Shackletons. They were at the other end of the hangar and as i/c engines I got involved and learnt how a contra–rotating propeller worked as well as the particular problems on the Roll Royce Griffin. Once again, I was the chief mover of the aircraft in and out of the hangar. The Shackleton was moved in sideways on railway lines. By this time I was getting near “tour ex” and one morning during our tea break Chief Davies said “Geordie read this AMO; I think it might interest you”. It was asking for engine people to go for training on the Bristol Britannia. I filled in an application and sat back to wait for the wheels to turn and decide on my eligibility. In the meantime, my tour-ex date came up and I was posted to RAF St. Mawgan in Cornwall, to await the start of my Britannia training.
After arriving on the unit, I was put onto the Shackleton servicing section as i/c engines. One thing I found quite novel was, when I had to do the after-servicing ground run, was to call up the control tower to ask for clearance. After a couple of months I received my posting to RAF Lyneham to start my training on the Britannia. On the day I was clearing the station a Comet 4 from Lyneham flew over, so I rang the control tower to verify if he was landing; affirmative was the response so I asked them to ask the pilot if he would give me a lift as I was posted to Lyneham. No problem was the reply and two hours later I was deposited on the dispersal with my kit. Completely lost, I stopped a passing tractor driver and asked where I could get a lift to the Sgts’ mess. He called up on a radio and a Landrover picked me up and dropped me outside the mess. The next day I “arrived” on the station and met 5 other senior techs and 1 cpl who were also going on the Brit Course.
We were told to report to RAF Melksham for 6 weeks electrical training.
I found it to be the hardest thing I had ever tackled but in the last week a ” door opened” and it all made sense to me. After the final exam which I only just passed, I started a round of manufacturers courses which was to last 14 months, taking in the Proteus engine for the Brit, then off to Rolls Royce for a “Dart” engine course’, then off to Rover cars to study the APU fitted in the Argosy. The Argosy systems and installations were studied at Vickers Armstrong. Then back to Rolls Royce for the Tyne course fitted in the Belfast. Next off to RAF Aldergrove to study the Belfast. By this time we were really brassed off with the constant moving and sitting in classrooms. Eventually, we got back to Lyneham and we were spread out over the Servicing teams. We were put on to Red team, doing major servicing in the ” Dock”. The main reason for all our training, was to be able to go down route on the various staging posts as the on-the-spot specialist.
We are now in June 1963. Whilst working on the dock I decided to take my ch tech board, so off I went to RAF Weeton and using the last year’s training and my knowledge gained on the Britannia, I passed the board and sat back to await the authority to put the crown above my three stripes.
After 10 months, I was posted to RAF Gan. I had been at RAF Gan for about a month before the o.k. came through to put up my crown, no sooner had this happened when they changed the rules and I had to put a miniature SAC badge above the stripes.
My year at Gan was at least interesting. Twice a week the Comet 4 would stage through to and from Singapore, mostly trooping. The Brit was a regular daily visitor with crews occasionally doing a changeover which often resulted in a good “Wing Ding“ in the mess.
On one very wet night in the rainy season a Brit was due in from Aden and while we waited for it to arrive the skies opened and through the murk could be seen the Brit with all lights on making his approach. By this time the runway was like a river and when it touched down, the aircraft “aquaplaned” and slid off to the side into the rough, the pilot struggled to keep the aircraft on the runway with a result that the nose wheel “shimmied” from side to side and in doing so literally “filled” both inboard engines with all the “crud” possible. When the aircraft eventually came to rest all the bogies were well down below the axles. The pilot was the Lyneham Station Commander at that time, Gp Capt Steadman. The aircraft was eventually lifted out using airbags and every railway sleeper we could find and was parked on the pan so we could get on with getting the Brit airworthy. We also carried out a retraction test, a “First” for Gan. My time-ex date came around and I departed Gan in a Comet4 back to Lyneham. Once again, I was put on to the teams, this time, “brown” team as i/c engines.
This carried on until my next posting to Aden came through and off I went again and stayed there until the withdrawal from Aden was nearly completed. It was during this period that I was asked if I would like to continue my service up to 55 and I had no hesitation in saying No!!. This was because I thought that the changes in the RAF’s maintenance patterns did not suit my way. Back to Lyneham again and this time I was put into the Rectification section as i/c engines on “C” shift. This did not go down too well, as it entailed shift work. I carried on in this job until Feb 69, when I went on a resettlement course at RAF Leeming, doing Bookeeping. On 17 Mar 69 I cleared the station and was presented with my leaving tankard in the mess by the CMC, it was then filled with god knows what which I had to “down in one”. My leaving the mess and driving home to Calne was somewhat hazy. So ended my RAF career, although I was still on the “books” until 16 June 69 and then I was completely FINISHED!!!!!!!!
In early July 69, I had an interview on the Isle of Wight for an instructor on Hovercraft. This included teaching the Shah of Iran how to drive a Hovercraft! I retired from that job in June89 and became a man of leisure, apart from an 18-month period when I did a caretakers job in the local school.
I renewed my connection with 30 Squadron by becoming an active member of the Squadron Association and spent many happy evenings telling and receiving tales of the past ‘down the route’ whilst ensuring the current OC was doing his job!!!! Happy days and lots of happy memories,
Ron.