I get into work one Monday morning in April. It is a cold frosty morning and I wasn't in the best of moods to say the least.
My Sgt calls me over and asks "What have you got planned for the next week ?"
Me " Cut the bullshit. Where do you want me to go this time ? "
I was thinking maybe Scotland there had been talk of Cyprus.
The reply " Gib and a quick trip for some tech checks on the Tacan 9D and Watchman. "
" When do I leave ?"
" Your plane leaves Heathrow in four hours "
So back to the block pack some greens and change into civilian clothes. Then a police car to Heathrow.
After a meeting at Heathrow with a pongo friend of mine in the bar. He was going on a sailing trip. A few beers and an uneventful flight. We touch down in sunny Gib.
We go to HMS Rook, as this will be our base for the deployment.
Now there can be some differences in languages spoken by the services. Plus it doesn't take long for it to get round that the RAF is on board ship. Even if it is on dry land.
So let the confusion begin, simple question where is the barracks, answer you mean the mess. No the mess is where you eat, not where you sleep.
Walking out of the gate on the first night.
Where are you two going ?
The pub why ?
You can't go ashore until you sign out !
We are ashore this is dry land
Then when we get back.
You missed the liberty boat. Name rank and number
What liberty boat, you don't use boats on land !
Day one and our driver turns up. We have to report to OC Ground Radio. Then up to the top of the Rock for a survey. We finally get there and lighting state one.
So we can't get out of the hut because we are 1400 feet above sea level, and in real danger of a lightening strike. So we sit around for six hours doing nothing.
We get back down and we have missed our meal time. So out to the local restaurant for steak and beers.
Then the usual Navy bullshit.
Day two and back to the top of the Rock, survey done and a phone call back to the G in England. They then decide that we will change the Tacan and do a electrical control modification. So much swearing and calling my Boss's parentage in to question.
Back to HMS Rook and the matelot on there equivalent of Orderly Sgt starts to give me grief. Big mistake when he gets "Go stick your head up your arse. "7
So out again and another telling off for the liberty boat.
So a special flight is laid on that will bring in all the heavy engineering equipment and replacement Tacan. Bit of a big deal because this C130 is also bringing in a detachment of SBS as well.
Two days downtime as the boys are practicing parachuting in to the bay and assaulting the local beach.
We finally get a Sea King to lift the new Tacan to the top of the Rock. Yours truly is running out of socks. It was only supposed to be a weeks trip.
The weather forecast comes in and another three days of bad weather. So out on the piss it is.
Next morning a matelot sticks his head around the door and two very pissed up RAF tell him to go away. Your driver is here and the forecast is good. So at 9 am we get in the Landy and start work at the top of the Rock. Thirteen hours we finally finish, we both haven't eaten or drunk anything. Those matelot people won't open the mess. So wash, change and down to the local steakhouse.
Then the weather sets in again and we can't do the final checks. Also they won't send the calibration aircraft out to check the Tacan final approaches, until the weather clears. So another few days of matelot bating.
The Andover finally makes an appearance and it is raining heavily. So our driver takes us up to the top of the Rock. The weather is that bad and he seems to think he can rally a Landy. I am trying to get out of the back at the door wide open and he is doing around 25 mph. Del has a hold of my DPM jacket, he is yelling at me "Stay in the Landy you fucking tit."
My reply, "Get me the fuck out of here. He is a fucking loon. We are 1300 feet up and a only one way down."
So the calibration flight begins, and. We discover that the antenna is rotating the wrong way. So a trip up a 40 foot tower on top of a big Rock. I am cursing the boys back at the G.
Last day and we have to do another calibration flight. My patience is wearing thin and I am not in a good mood at all. Another trip up the Rock, and a civilian who wants to follow an RAF Landy up a restricted area. After much arguing he sees the error of his ways. The cal flight goes well, so down to HMS Rook, clear the dry land ship. With the usual banter and homeward bound we are.
However the Andover doesn't have the range to get us home. So we set off for Lisbon and a hot refuel. That means those engines are turning a burning. Oh and we can't get off either. We arrive back in England, because Hunting Aviation did the calibration flights, East Midlands Airport it is. So a black car pulls up on the pan. Two figures in greens get out of the Andover and throw there gear in the back of the car. All this infront of a plane of holiday makers. That caused a stir and much pointing of fingers 🤣.
At least I got back for my Bank Holiday get together. A week he said, three more like. Did I enjoy it yes !
Did I enjoy my time in the Armed Forces, the majority of it. Would I do it again, Oh Fuck Yes.
Would I have stayed if I had the chance. Oh Yes, the most important years of my life where spent in HMF.