Hi Every body,
I am going to start a story of my time in the Royal Air Force. It won't be every boring bit of my time but a number of the high-lights ( if that's what they were).
Fortunately I managed to do quite a few things and meet some famous ( or not ) people over the years. Some of my stories will be linked to others I will have already told. Some tales will incorporate elements of tales yet to be told.
I hope you like what I have to say and most of all enjoy reading my tales. And of course if you wish to contribute please do.
So my time in the RAF started on 2nd March 1982, at the age of 23. This meant I was quite old compared to most of the other recruits, so consequently they made me Deputy Senior Man (DSM) of my intake flight. I think having also been a Corporal in the Air Training Corps in my teens also might have had some influence. The Senior man had already done time in the service and then decided to re-enlist after working in Saudi Arabia. Unfortunately my tenure as DSM didn't last the whole 6 weeks of basic training as I had an accident at the end of the Ground Defence Exercise at RAF North Luffenham. A stupid thing to happen really. We were disembarking the bus back at RAF Swinderby ( RAF School of Recruit Training) in order to return our rifles to the Station Armoury, and wearing full kit the bus driver called me back as I had left my helmet on the seat. I collected it and as I was stepping down the steps, somehow missed my footing and fell. Now as I said I was wearing full kit and had my rifle in one hand and a bag in the other. As I fell onto the road below I let go of the weapon and put my left hand out to break my fall. It certainly broke my fall, and also my wrist. A sharp pain shot up my arm.
Being a young man who thought he was invincible and not worried about a bit of pain, carried on with my jobs but eventually had enough of the pain and reported to the medical Centre for some first aid. The medic bound my arm in a bandage, and told me to return in the morning if it still hurt.
So after breakfast the next morning I went back to the " Med Centre" and told them I was still in pain. With that I was told to wait for the daily RAF bus to take me to RAF Hospital at Nocton Hall, which is the other side of Lincoln. Once there I was sent for an X-Ray and after the doctor looked at the slide, decided I had a hairline fracture of my Scaphoid bone in my wrist.
Now if there are any medics or doctors out there you will know that the scaphoid can be a difficult bone to heal. Many years later, after I had left the RAF, I was managing a restaurant in Wales when one of my staff had fallen off his motorbike and broken his scaphoid, and he was off sick for several months.
So that was the end of me being Deputy Senior Man of Number 4 flight, as the decision was made to "Back Flight" me. In the meantime after having my left arm in plaster they sent me back home on sick leave, ( which coincided with the Easter break). So there I was on my way back home to Windsor, arm in plaster and wondering what was going to happen. I enjoyed my Easter break with my family and mates back at the pub, and had two weeks off doing not a lot.
I eventually boarded the train back to Lincolnshire and reported back to camp. The following day I went back to the Med Centre and took the bus to Nocton Hall for a new x-ray and see how my wrist was. Miraculously the fracture had healed and apart from being a little bit stiff I was ok to resume training, which at this stage was getting ready for the pass out parade. As it turned out I was only back flighted by one week and so I joined the blokes in 5 Flight.
Unlike most of the other recruits I was going to pass out of training as a Senior Aircraftman. This was because I had chosen to become a Steward in the RAF as my intention was to eventually become an Air Steward flying on VC10 transport aircraft. I was fortunate as I had previously been to catering college and was already qualified and experienced. My next stage would be trade training at Hereford, but I still had to finish at Swinderby. So the next couple of weeks was spent doing lots of foot drill and getting our uniforms into tip top condition, which included bulling our shoes.
The big day arrived and after having breakfast we assembled in one of the hangars to have the staff inspect our uniforms and give us last minute instructions. Once all the preparation had been completed we formed up into flights and marched out of the hangar along with the RAF Band towards the parade square, to have the formal inspection and march past the Dias.
Also present were the proud families, including my Mum and Dad who had driven up from Windsor to see my special day.
One of the benefits of passing out as an SAC was that I had over a year's seniority on the other guys and more importantly I got paid more. This would become more important to me when I eventually applied to become an Air Steward a few years later.
After passing out at Swinderby we were all posted to different training camps around the country, depending on which trade you were going into. I went to RAF School of Catering at Hereford.
As I mentioned earlier I was going to become a steward, which is the trade responsible for serving food and beverages in the RAF. We were part of Trade Group 19.(TG19). The other trades were Cooks/Chefs and Clerk Caterers.
So the recruits on my course were already qualified in the trade, but of course we needed to learn how the RAF worked and how to carry out our duties the RAF way so we spent about three weeks under the watchful eyes of Corporal Frank Pender.
I forgot to mention that most of my course were on 4 Flight and had passed out the previous week, so while I was getting my drill right and uniform tidy, they had been put onto Pool Flight and had been putting up barbed wire defences around the station. When the rest of us arrived, we went straight into training in the classroom.
Next episode will be about my first posting and how I got on.
Look forward to seeing your comments
Rob
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