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Being a NornIron Catlick I wasn’t allowed to join anything like that which smacked of the British Military or Establishment.

Somehow I ended up in the RAF and lasted for my full engagement, but now I still have a mental block when it comes to tying a bowline, for the purposes of recreational sailing, so maybe joining a troop as youngster might have been useful.

BM , not sure about the six counties, but in Jockistan there were closed troops especially for Leftfooters if I remember correctly .

48th Ayrshire for me, went from cubs all the way to the Venture troop.

Was in the Scouts at boarding school. They taught me ropework and land navigation and camping skills.

Then, in second year, we had our own ATC squadron, a Detached Flight actually, start up. I joined that too.

Unfortunately one of the two Parade nights coincided with once-weekly Scout night. I was mad keen to become a Phantom pilot, so the priority was obvious.

I used to go to the Scout hall immediately after ATC night, just in time for the flag ceremony. I saluted RAF style, as I was still in ATC uniform. The Scoutmaster was outraged. He wanted me to do the three fingered Baden-Powell salute. I gave him the two fingered version and never went back.

Our CO, who was a Former Pupil of the school, was absolutely brilliant. He wangled all kinds of goodies for us. For example, he found a way of getting us two summer camps a year. Never humdrum stations, always good and interesting ones such as Akrotiri, Masirah, Gibraltar, Gütersloh et al. He also wangled really interesting types for 'Air Experience' flights.

One of our guys (not me ) got a trip in a 2-seat Harrier at Wittering camp in 1968 when that aircraft was a bit new. At another camp I flew in a Hunter. The pilot was absolutely wonderful. Ex-ATC himself. He gave me lots of stick time and talked me through a loop and a couple of rolls. For a young teenager it was absolute heaven!

Lots of other types, such as Argosy and the then new Herc and the ghastly Belslow.

One of the most memorable was a VC10 from Brize Norton to Dulles Washington. One civilian passenger, mysteriously half-handcuffed to a briefcase. "Don't ask" I was told, so I didn't. The whole flight(s) I was on the remarkably capacious flight deck. Just after departure from Dulles, the skipper's front window pane cracked with a hell of a bang. Too heavy to land back at departure point, so he carried on at low level while the engineer talked on HF or MF with his clan of men with dirty fingernails in the UK. Skipper decided to carry on as far as Goose Bay to meet another VC10 from Brize carrying a spare window.

He made it a training trip. 500' agl, VFR. Mapreading all the way. Enormous fun. The two pilots took turns, 10 minutes at a time, to bank and yank. After an hour or two, the skipper went up to 2,000' and let the co-Joe get some rest abaft the cockpit door. He then invited me to keep his seat warm.

Then, to my utter amazement, he said those magic words. You have control. A teenager, flying a mahoosive aeroplane, at quite low level. Initially I flew quite timidly. Like it was a great big Chipmunk. He yelled "turn, lad, turn". I had been flying AOB of 30°. He wanted 45°. So I did.

"Air Experience" was the name of the game. It was certainly that!

Started in the cubs very young and enjoyed it immensely, eventually made sixer. Then it was off to boarding school. During the hols in Aden, enrolled in the Air Scouts which involved desert survival exercises and loads of air experience flights: Twin Pin, Beverly, Shack, Belvedere, Sycamore.

At school, joined the Light Infantry section of the CCF before transferring to the RAF section. Whilst in the Infantry, caused a minor diplomatic incident. At the end of Summer Camp, our orders were to travel home in uniform. So I followed them. Swapped my rail warrant from Barnstaple (?) to Bristol. Bus to airport and DC 3 to Dublin where I was taken into custody for wearing a British Army uniform. All sorted out amongst a few laughs and much confusion on my part.

The RAF section of the CCF was much more to my liking. Less drill and lots of flying. Chipmunks, choppers at Middle Wallop (bloody brilliant), a Canberra and the inevitable Varsity. I went solo in a glider at 14 at a civilian club in Germany (legal there) before soloing again at Summer Camp at Locking. Somehow, despite various misdemeanours, became a Cadet Sergeant and won a Flying Scholarship.

Loved it all.

barkingmad wrote: ↑

Tue Jun 30, 2020 8:26 am

Being a NornIron Catlick I wasn’t allowed to join anything like that which smacked of the British Military or Establishment.

Somehow I ended up in the RAF and lasted for my full engagement, but now I still have a mental block when it comes to tying a bowline, for the purposes of recreational sailing, so maybe joining a troop as youngster might have been useful.

As a South African Catholic I initially belonged to a Catholic scout troop, 2nd St Martin de Porres in Craighall Park in Johannesburg. The verkrampte Dutch Reformed, Calvinist minded, anti English, National Party were suspicious of the Scouting Movement as it was seen being as dominated by English speakers and mores, and they set up an alternative for good Afrikaans boys known as the "Voortrekker Movement" which effectively morphed into an almost paramilitary outfit that inculcated the Apartheid spirit and the dour ideals that made for officer material in an Afrikaans dominated military. Later on, the government, in the throws of the war in South West Africa/Namibia and Angola, lightened up on Scouting, realizing that the skills the movement taught the boys were of military value too, but the SA Scouting movement was never co-opted to the Nationalist agenda in the same way as the Voortrekkers.

What the government thought of a Catholic scout troop remains unspoken, but no doubt they saw double moral jeopardy in such an unholy alliance, as the government was deeply anti Catholic hence the saying "the 3 K's"... Katolieke, Komuniste en Kaffir boeties!"

Fecking eejits they were...

Sorry, but I was in the Boys' Brigade, 21st Leith, company sergeant and a Queen's Badge holder.

My father was in the Boys Brigade (circa 1920-23).

For as long as I can remember I wanted to be a RAF pilot. I joined 130 (Bournemouth) Squadron ATC when I was 13. As well as the HQ there were three Flights at local schools, one of which was mine. We were so very fortunate - flights in Chipmunks at Hamble, Anson at Old Sarum, Beverley at Thorney Island, Hastings at Colerne, Varsity at Oakington, Single and Twin Pioneer and a Whirlwind helicopter at Odiham.

Summer camps were held at Swinderby, Oakington and Colerne. All followed at 16 by A&B Certificates with 622 Gliding School at Christchurch with more gliding for a year after that as a Staff Cadet there. Left the ATC as a Cadet Flight Sergeant at 17 just a week before I joined the Royal Navy. I owe the ATC a huge debt for me having a 38 year flying career. Sadly the RAF wouldn't let me follow in my father's footsteps due to an eyesight deficiency.

I still think the ATC is the most brilliant institution of Great Britain.

When I write those painful cheques to HMRC, twice year, I always remember the ATC and the debt that I will forever owe. (Have we got a stand up salutey smiley for the occasion?)

That having been said: I'd still like to see yon Vorderman quine in her webbing.

Just the webbing?

Yeah, I was in cubs for a bit.....didn't like it. In school cadets after that and utterly detested it!

Here's what became of Lord Baden-Powells Grandson...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of ... Baden-Clay

EA01 wrote: ↑

Tue Jun 30, 2020 9:39 pm

Yeah, I was in cubs for a bit.....didn't like it. In school cadets after that and utterly detested it!

Here's what became of Lord Baden-Powells Grandson...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of ... Baden-Clay

Cadets was compulsory at my school. The only bit I could stomach was shooting practice with .22 rifles. Marching up and down and parades and bands and all the rest of that crap was detestable as you say!

Sad to read about that poor woman. Baden Powell must be rolling in his grave in Nyeri!

Yes cadets was compulsory at mine as well....the .22 shooting was fine, the rest of it utter BS!

I see that the Baden-Clays emigrated from Zambia, via Rhodesia/Zimbabwe to Australia! Oh well at least George Gregan added a couple of points for Australia on the Zambian front anyway!

Pretty salacious stuff...

https://www.newidea.com.au/wife-killer- ... e-touching

That bloke seems to bat and batter the wrong way!

Hmm, I wondered what became of the mistress, from memory she & Alison were due to attend the same real estate conference the next day....

Many years ago when he was a lad my late father wrote to Baden-Powell asking for his autograph. Baden-Powell wrote back saying he didn't believe in autograph hunting...and he signed the letter in his own hand!

This ‘woke’ makeover for the Guides should definitely improve recruiting to that organisation as all the mummies and daddies realise their precious charges are going to a safe place where they won’t be corrupted by drag artists performing “theatre” for the little ones;

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/articl ... dance.html

Although I do notice the noun ‘women’ has been used, which might cause confusion and consternation amongst some politicians in the UK...

Dammit ! I appear to have mislaid my well-thumbed copy of Grey’s Anatomy, so now a trip to the library is required.

And I’m NOT referring to the TV show...