My Grand-uncle Dick found out...
In
September 1947, on returning from 3 years in Egypt, I found myself
posted to RAF Manston in
Kent, a home posting for me as I lived in
Deal about 15 miles away. My
joy was soon dashed to find that within a few months of serving
Echelon No. 4077, to which I was posted and catered for the 2nd
Line Servicings of 4
Dakota Squadrons,
one of which was 30 Squadron, was soon to move to RAF Waterbeach.
My
stay at Waterbeach was reasonably uneventful, working every other
weekend in 2nd line, right through, desnagging the Base
Inspections being passed out from the hangar and delivering them to
the Squadrons during the weekend.
One
unusual occurrence happened on a Saturday morning when the Warrant
Officer Gobbels, I/c the hangar, said, “Your hockey is cancelled
this afternoon, Buck. Get your lunch quickly. You are flying to RAF Aldregrove
to change an elevator. Be back by 12 o'clock. I'll put an elevator in
the back of the aircraft you are going in.”
Later,
climbing into the Dakota, I saw the dirtiest elevator I'd ever seen.
It looked as if it had come off the dump. Half a dozen tears in the
fabric, but the Warrant had catered for my needs by supplying red
dope,
fabric, brushes, needles and thread. Instead of enjoying the trip
over I sat on the floor, stitching the damage for 2 and a half hours
or so to save time. What happened at Aldergrove was that the damaged
Dakota was there to bring back food, hooch and goodies, still in
short supply in England, for a big Officers' Mess Party. It was
loaded up and somebody had left the brakes off, on the grass, and it
had run backwards into the air traffic control wagon positioned at
the end of the runway and smashed into the port elevator trailing
edge.
We
taxied up to the Dakota, transferred the load and off it went. The
damaged aircraft was towed into dirty old black hangar across the
other side of the aerodrome. I was given a young airframe mechanic to
help and starting at 6 o'clock, we worked all night fitting the
elevator and carrying out fabric repairs. About 10 o'clock in the
morning after a short test flight we flew back to RAF Waterbeach. The
only things we saw in that hangar were about 500 crows sitting on the
girders of the roof, bombarding us all night. What a din, too!
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