During my first posting, to RAF Nicosia with Roy Hindley, Bob Longhurst, Ginge Thompson, Tad Thomas, Nipper Fry and quite a few others of the 81st, words that I learned to dread whenever I went into the crewroom at Transport Aircraft Servicing Flight (2nd line for 70 Sqn's Hastings) were 'You're really in the s*** this time!". My heart would leap and I would turn pale. What had I done? Once more let my cigarette case (with F1250 conveniently inside) slip out of my the pocket of my shorts and hide itself amongst the control runs along the main spar? Been posted to El Adem, a fate worse than death? (That's where Ginge Cooper(ex-80th) was last seen heading for, poor b****r). Put on another terrifying guard duty at the 25-yard range, a perfect target for any EOKA sniper, equipped as I was with a Super Trouper spotlight, the sort ABBA sang about, just in case he had difficulty in discovering where I was hiding? But it was some years later in my career that I was really in the s***.

Nimrods entered service about 1968 ( Yes, that long ago) . I had remustered to ATech and having had a few years easy life being an Mentor for the 'Improvers' of the 110th and 117th entries at Kinloss, I became a sort of Ch Tech trouble-shooter, filling in F1022s, F765Cs, F695s, F1664Bs and the like. I viewed with envy my well-travelled comrades who seemed always to be heading off for highly-desirable foreign parts like Majunga, where you could have your 'sweeper' for sixpence, (but if your sweeper was female it would cost you a shilling). So, it was with considerable delight I took up the offer to be the airframe chappie on a liaison trip to the Royal Dutch Navy at Valkenburg. Now I knew enough about what riggers did to know that they emptied the 'cludgie', a Scots term I believe, for the aircraft bog. I asked the rigger chief how I should go about this task. He checked the 'En Route Supplement' a sort of AA Guide for aircrew, and discovered that Valkenburg had no toilet trolley.
'Don't worry', says he, 'Go along to ESG, get a 6ft length of lay-flat tubing and ask the stores wallah to heat seal one end'.
'Hm' says I,'What then?'
'The cludgie point is at the front of the aircraft, on the left-hand side. Remove the panel, you'll need a GS, and unscrew the 4-inch blanking cap'.
'OK'.
'Then slide the open end of the lay-flat tubing over the outlet pipe, grasp it all the way round with one hand, and slowly move the gate-valve lever to the open position but make sure you stand well to one side, just in case. When the cludgie has emptied you can tie up the end of the tube and dispose of it.'

Well, I did not like the sound of this, not one little bit. I looked at a cludgie point and found that my dainty hand would not encompass the outlet pipe. In any case, I didn't fancy putting my lily-white pinkies anywhere where they might make contact with the noxious contents of a Nimrod cludgie. I introduced a modification, albeit without Command approval. This took the form of a stout rubber band. Perfick!

The aircraft did not fly direct to Valkenburg but bumpily stooged around the North Sea at low level for 3 or 4 hours so that the aircrew had sufficient time to eat all the rations and the groundcrew had all had enough time to throw up into the cludgie.

This was the first Nimrod to visit Holland. It was to be inspected by a Dutch Admiral, Commander of the southern North Sea area. Our Captain, the illustrious Flt Lt John Elias, descended the aircraft steps, at the rear, closely followed by a supposedly top technician of the Royal Air Works with his trusty GS, roll of lay-flat tubing and stout rubber band.

Whilst the formalities were in progress at the bottom of the steps, I proceeded with the gruesome task; I wanted it out of the way asap. Watched by an admiring crowd of Cloggies, I removed the cludgie panel, put the rubber band over the outlet pipe and then secured the tubing under it. Then completely forgetting the rigger chief's injunction to take things slowly I moved the gate-valve lever smartly to the open position. The inevitable happened. Gallons and gallons of blue-brown evil smelling liquid gushed forth from the pipe, blew the tubing clean off and hit the tarmac just in front of the Dutch Admiral's highly-polished shoes as he and his party came round to the front of the aircraft. I has also forgotten to stand to one side so I collected quite a bit myself. Luckily we had been ordered to wear our berets, so I was able to salute the Admiral, a compliment, which he, surprisingly, returned.