I think I first became aware that the RAF was not the efficient organisation that I had been led to believe late in 1958.

Having survived the previous 3 years at Halton and graduated as a fully fledged Airframe Fitter I applied for aircrew and duly went off to Hornchurch.l didn't really want to fly,but I thought that at least it was something I could do for myself ,not be told what to do lt was a couple of days of great fun.Unsuccessful in my bid to be the next Johnny Johnson, returned to Halton,where I was told that my original posting to 2nd TAF had been cancelled and that I was to report of TCMSF RAF Lyneham.

With the words of our Instructors "Don't bother about Transport Command servicing systems-nobody goes there" ringing in my ears I set off.Soon after arriving I was to find a fair few of our entry mates already there, Brian Campbell and Snowy Rowe spring to mind.

So,having been pointed in the direction of a ramshackle collection of metal igloos, I reported to my appointed section.That's when I started to wonder what the Hell was going on.The unit was called Transport Command Mobile Servicing Flight, reporting directly to TCHQ,and having no actual work to do at Lyneham. lt comprised a body of aircraft fitters and mechanics of all trades,all experienced in working on virtually anything,and being prepared to do so at the drop of a hat, anywhere in the world , with no backup from home base. Nobody could figure out what I was doing there.What they needed was an experienced airframe fitter, not Muggins with a certificate on which the ink had not had time to dry who'd never even seen a real operational aeroplane before.

For a while it seemed that I'd just spent 3 years just to end up as a general dogsbody, casting envious eyes at all those bods swarming all over the Hastings and Comets in the hangars.

I did get to be pretty good at getting the stove going in the mornings, and learnt a few card games,though never quite mastered the 12V genny( that provided our meagre lighting.). Kept seeing blokes appear, thinking that at last I wasn't the new boy, only to find out that they'd just got back from some faraway place with a strange-sounding name,and had been on the section for yonks.

After a couple of months somebody finally thought that I should get some idea of what working on a real aircraft was all about, so off I went to Colerne to work on Hastings for a couple of months.Soon after my return I was actually trusted to help polish the Comets with handfuls of Wadpol. Happy days!

Eventually, having seen all these people coming and going , I plucked up enough courage to ask why I was still stuck at base doing nothing but keep the stoves alight and the floors swept etc, doing nothing to use my, admittedly limited, skills as an airframe fitter. Sgts McNeill and Gillespie replied 'Well, you ain't got any experience of going on a trip" and when I asked how I could get it (OK so you're ahead of me) replied "By going on a trip".Wow that 3 years was really paying off ! ! !

Summer of 1959 was spent at Abingdon with most of the section carrying out Major and Minor servicing on Beverleys from Aden. At last I got to work on an honest to goodness flying machine,and as anybody who knows the Bev. will tell you l use the term in its very loosest sense.( heard that someone once described the Bev as 50000 rivets flying along in loose formation.) only got to fly in one once, from Abingdon to Wildenrath, during which I was somewhat dismayed to see that we were being overtaken by cars and trains. I'm convinced that's what started my dental problems.

Later that year I finally made THE breakthrough when there was nobody available for a flag-waving trip with a pair of Victors to Tehran, carrying their servicing crew in a Comet T2. Cpl Pete Quinn talked the Boss into sending me. I managed not to cock it up, so a couple of weeks later I was off, in the same aircraft, Comet T2 XK 670, for a 2 week tour of the USA with Sir Dermot Boyle, Chief of Air Staff.

Now I'd got my feet under the table it was a whole new ball-game. I was now one of the boys and life became hectic and unpredictable from then on. Naturally not all assignments were jollies. Trooping exercises with the pongos at El Adam and Larissa in Greece weren't exactly a bed of roses but compensation came from VIP trips like 1962's NATO Staff Defence College tour of Southern Europe in Britannia XN 398 in April and in June that year taking one of our brand new Comet 4Cs,XR 395, the one DH kitted out for Her Majesty,on a tour of the Far East with Secretary of State for Air Julian Amery, a trip which was actually cut short by the John Profumo/Christine Keeler affair(no doubt you all remember that). I never did get to see Australia or New Zealand after all.

The majority of my work during this time was with Brits, although I can also add Comet 2 and 4, Beverley, Hastings and Hunter to my CV, the latter courtesy of the formation of 38 Group,which presaged the end of Transport Command.

I had been sent to Filton at the end of 1959 to learn about the newly commissioned Bristol Britannia then later to Radlett for the Hastings , Hatfield for the Comet, and Coventry and Yeovil for the Argosy, also fitting in a couple of weeks at Fort Dunlop for a/c wheels and tyres.

With all this specialised training under my belt and a 5 year screening from early 1960 I looked forward to a lot more globe-trotting for some time to come. Maybe the RAF wasn't so bad after all,by this time I'd made Cpl and was really getting to like the life,even if it didn't pay that well back then.

Fast forward to early 1963,when some berk clerk turned over 2 pages at once, resulting in over half of the experienced and screened members of MSF ,including yours truly, being put on PWR and nobody could, or would,do anything about it.The machine had started and nobody could, or would, stop it.

So September 1963 saw me on my way to Aden to begin a 2 year tour.On arrival I was strangely enough assigned to VASF, where all the training and experience I'd amassed would be best used. A year later I was reassigned in favour of an ex-Bomber Command rigger who'd just done a quick 6 week primer course on ALL Transport Command aircraft and was designated a Transport Command Specialist.

Bells started to go off in my head again. But at least I went to 105 Sqdn, Argosys,which later combined with 84 Beverley Sqn, so all was not lost. Early in 1965 I found that I had been recommended for my 3rd stripe,so I thought things were looking up again.

Silly me! That April they moved the goalposts again and as I along with a few like-minded colleagues,didn't fancy taking bloody exams any more,decided that we would become Professional Corporals.

I applied for a resettlement posting on leaving Aden, to Oakington, Cambs,where I spent my final 3 years happily in the hangar doing Minor and Major servicing on the Varsitys of 5 FTS, becoming the acknowledged expert in properly setting up the Varsity's troublesome undercarriage, simply by reading the AP and doing everything in the correct sequence.Finally, after all those years, something of what was crammed into me at the Brat Factory actually did seem worthwhile, but too late,and in mid-August 1968 the RAF and I went our separate ways.
Should I have signed on? Probably- Do I regret leaving? No.
We Brats were told at Halton that we were the Creme de la Creme,but the reality was that we weren't even rated as highly as skimmed milk in the real airforce
Tony Birchenough
disillusioned ex-brat