Tall stories from 20 Squadron.

When 20 Squadron first deployed to Singapore in 1961 it needed to become operational quickly, therefore all pilots posted to the squadron were 2nd tour pilots. Once the squadron was well established and with increasing operational demands and increased aircraft establishment (we eventually had 19 aircraft), we started accepting 1st tour pilots. These newly trained pilots, coming direct from the training units, were a little green about the gills and therefore presented an ideal opportunity for the old hands to play some devious tricks on them.
The picture will give you some idea of how young jocks behave.

Click picture to enlarge.

Although these devious tricks occurred whilst I served on 20 Squadron, I was not directly involved myself. I give them to you as they were told to me and as best my memory serves. All these were set ups and the rookie pilots were unaware of this. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Story 1
One of these new pilots was taken into the CO’s office, where one of the jocks, dressed in the COs KD, began to interview the rookie jock in a slapdash and gormless manner. On the CO’s wall was a large map of the Malay Peninsula to which he turned so as to point out the squadron’s home base at Tengah and other prominent landmarks such as the nearby Indonesian border (with whom we were at war with at the time) and which would be important for an operational jock to be aware of. But instead of showing a knowledgeable image to the newcomer, the CO began to look all over the map trying to find Singapore on which RAF Tengah was based, he hesitated and fumbled and could not locate Tengah or even the Indonesian border. Finally giving up on the exercise, the CO terminated the interview and instructed the new jock to find these things out for himself.
Story 2
Taken into the jock’s crew room, a rookie pilot was introduced to a slovenly, unshaven and somewhat inebriated looking Sergeant pilot (he’d borrowed the line chiefs KD tunic for this). At that moment a flight commander entered the crew room and loudly demanded of the Sergeant pilot why he was not dressed in his flying gear. To this the Sergeant responded with a stream of invective which included an instruction to the flight commander to go f#ck himself. The flight commander takes all this pretty calmly and apologised profusely to the Sergeant for being so abrupt with him in the first place, but would he kindly do him a favour and get ready for his flight. With a stroppy leer on his face the Sergeant pilot gets into his flying kit, staggers out to the flight line, climbs up the ladder, slipping off a couple of times before he succeeds, and into the cockpit of one of the aircraft, starts the engine, taxies out (badly) and takes off.
Story 3
On his first day on the squadron a new rookie pilot is taken into the squadron operations room. In the ops room was a radio through which the squadron ops officer could communicate with pilots when flying. Whilst the rookie pilot was present, the following conversation, took place between the ops officer and a pilot flying on a sortie. This was a set up but this was unknown to the rookie.
Pilot, “I am having engine difficulties and it may flame out at any moment.” He therefore requested ops to “send out the air-sea rescue launch and helicopters in case I have to eject. Over.”
Ops officer, “It is lunch time now old boy and I don’t think it would be right to disturb the rescue crews whilst they were eating so you will have to wait until they finish eating. Over.”
Pilot, “the engine had now flamed out. Please advise what I should do now. Over.”
Ops officer, “Sorry old chap but I’m afraid there’s noting we can do for you now but wish you the best of luck and to tell you that it has been nice working with you. I suggest that you eject. Goodbye and good luck. Out”
Story 4
One of our flight commanders dressed himself up in a padre’s uniform, whilst one of other pilots who was not only small but also looked very young and boyish, dressed himself up as a school boy and acted as the padre’s son.
The newly arrived rookie pilot was introduced to the “padre” and his “son”. While the rookie was present in the crew-room the padre’s son asked the flight commander if could have a flight. The answer was no. Begging and pleading by the son, with the support of the padre, soon produced a positive response. The son then gets dressed in flying gear, exits the crewroom and proceeds to climb into a single seat Hunter, starts up and taxies out. The padre remarked to the rookie that "there’s no limit to what a father must do for a son."

Story of a duck

The photo is 20 squadron celebrating their 50th anniversary in Singapore in 1965. The duck which was named Sierra, is circled in red and was the squadron mascot. He was bought, together with his mate Tango, as day old ducks late one night down Bugis Street, by an inebriated airman and released the next morning in the squadron operating area. They never lacked for anything to eat or drink as there were dozens of erks around to feed and water them.

Click for a larger picture.

Their names were derived from the two T7 Hunters which we had and whose squadron codes were S(ierra) and T(ango). If you look closely you will see both T7s parked at the end of the line.

They soon grew accustomed to the sound of loud jet engines as the aircraft taxied in and out of their hardstandings. Occasionally they would take to the air if caught in the jet blast of a taxiing Hunter, but it never seemed to do them any harm, they were birds after all.

When the squadron went on detachment, a Beverly (large transport aircraft) would come in to pick up both us and the ground servicing equipment. Needless to say, Sierra and Tango were also loaded on board. On arrival at the detachment airbase they would be released in the new squadron operating area and they took to it like the proverbial duck takes to water.

In the evenings after flying had finished for the day, the chaps would usually retire to the NAFFI for beers. And of course we were accompanied by Sierra and Tango. It wasn't long before the ducks were invited to join us on the table and there to my great shame I corrupted both birds into the habit of drinking Tiger beer. You’ve not seen anything until you have seen two drunken ducks.

All efforts to convince our pilots to take one of the birds up in a Hunter so it could fly through the sound barrier met with a resounding NO.

We did have a tortoise which was taken into the air in a Hunter and exceeded the  speed of sound. Making it possibly the fastest tortoise in the world.

The ducks were still wandering around the squadron when I finished my tour and returned to old Blighty. A couple of years later the UK pulled back from east of Suez, which meant the disbandment of the squadron, but I never found out what happened the two ducks after that.