You may think it strange that I was trying to deceive the air
force and was being supported in this deception by my boss. The air force operated on two levels. The first level was the professional, black
and white, level where people reacted to facts and figures, there was no personality
involved. This would occur when you were
dealing with people, outside your squadron or unit. When dealing with your own people you would always
be flexible, or as people might say, give someone the benefit of the doubt. We knew that the SMO would react to the facts
and figures. If I were one single pound
over the recommended weight, then my chances of going to Biggen Hill would be
scuppered. All we were doing was
stalling for time, so that when I actually presented myself, I could be sure
that I was the perfect weight.
J R and Tony knew not just the physical effort I had put in
to all the training but they had invested in me as well, with time and effort. They were also aware of the useless air
traffickers who had prevaricated every time I had applied for aircrew. All I had to do was stay off the radar for
my remaining ten days in Cyprus. Luckily
this was way before the days of computer recorded access points. We would have to sign with our name, rank and
number for meals and for transport and for most other amenities too. There was an easy way around that slight
problem. Luckily, most systems are, or
were, flawed. You would be handed a
clipboard with a signature sheet and asked to fill out your details. You were never asked for your identity card
so that the details you entered could be checked to be true.
To submit false details would eventually be flagged up and that
really is your only problem as you don’t know how often the details would be
checked, if at all. So all you had to do
was copy the details of the second person on the list. With your own handwriting being different,
your entry would not stand out, and assuming that the second person on the list,
who had entered their details which you were now copying, was telling the truth, then no alarm bells would ring. We were
used to having false names on detachment but these were usually comical and not
intended to deceive anyone. It was much
easier when the majority of the squadron left to return to Germany. There were only a handful of us left in
Cyprus. Unfortunately among this handful
were the characters Dave Magee, Jimmy Orr, John Roe and Taff Howells.
These four would have to be the maddest and baddest
characters in the whole of the air force.
The detachment had seen some particularly extreme incidents which did
have their humorous side. One squadron session got so out of hand that the police
actually sent dog units in to the mess to try and calm things down. Thankfully with the majority of the guys away
this group of nutters were quite well behaved.
I thought I would be pleased to climb in to the rear of a Hercules to
return to Germany, but when I realised who I was with, I wondered if we would actually
make it back. Normal people might get worried
if they were travelling in an aircraft and warning claxons honked and lights begin
to flash. I simply followed procedure
and strapped myself in for a possible crash landing.
Magee and the gang were smiling, so I wasn’t worried at all
as the crew of the Fat Albert went through their drill. Apart from their technical knowledge, which I
had to admire in a strange sort of way, their timing was spot on too as we were
now diverting in to Athens. I had always
wanted to go to Greece ever since as a child in Belfast we would be invited in
to the neighbour’s house to watch a slide show of her latest travel
adventure. I wondered if the birthplace
of civilisation would be ready for this crowd of reprobates. We landed safely and unbelievably were told
that we would have to wait till the following day for a spare part. Somehow or other I expected the technical
problem might just fix itself the following morning, my main concern was to
make it through the night unscathed.
We were allocated rooms in a small hotel and then instructed
to meet at a restaurant where a meal would be provided for us. After this the evening descended in to mayhem. There was an awful lot of wine and Ouzo,
plates getting smashed and laughter. I
felt it a shame that such an opportunity to explore Athens was lost to me, but
with that crowd I should have expected no less.
The behaviour was rambunctious to say the least and the funniest event
of the evening was Taff Howells trying to secure the services of a Greek lady
of the night with his Barclaycard. Whether
he was serious or not we will never know for he wasn’t successful in his
pursuit. He did manage to buy a load of booze which
like a magnet had us all in one large hotel room.
We were right on the harbour front and as it was a warm night
the windows were wide open. Someone
pointed out the luxurious yacht that was moored directly opposite the hotel and
then another person wondered if they could throw an ashtray and have it land on
the deck of the yacht. As you know we
were a competitive lot so, when we ran out of ashtrays basically anything else
that wasn’t nailed down was launched from the hotel windows toward the yacht. The
following morning we climbed on the coach to return to the aircraft. The Fat
Albert crew were already on the coach and asked about the debris that littered
the road and yacht. We explained that
they had held one hell of a party on the yacht the previous evening and we poor
little lambs couldn’t get much sleep because of the noise. This is why we all looked so dishevelled.
As sure as night follows day, the aircraft healed itself and
we were soon airborne again and heading for home. I hoped that we would make it this time but
the troops were partied out and we were soon shivering in the cooler air of Germany. It was late evening when we landed. We were all tired and looking forward to
getting in to our cars and heading to our respective homes. The following day I would be driving to
Liverpool to collect Irene and the boy child. I hoped I would be driving to
Liverpool the following day, for as we entered the terminal, I spotted some military
police watching us. We kept our distance
from them, as you do, as we waited for our bags to come in.
Having collected our kit we began to leave the terminal but
two coppers came over to me. Once they
had established that I was the person they were after they asked me to follow
them to an office. I promise you, my
mind was in overdrive trying to figure out what I had done wrong this time, or
was being accused of doing wrong. One
copper began dialling a number on a telephone, waited, then introduced himself
and said “We’ve got him for you sir.” He
handed the telephone to me and I said “Hello?” as you do. When I heard the voice say “Hello mate,” I relaxed a little, for it was my immediate
boss Tony. “I see you managed to remain
undetected then,” he said, and I laughed.
“Listen,” he said. “I know you’re
off to the UK tomorrow to get your family, so I wanted to tell you the news
before you left.” “What news?” I asked. “I wouldn’t unpack my bags if I were you
mate,“ says Tony. “You’re off to Biggen
Hill in a fortnight.”
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