My Early Days as an Air Quartermaster (AQM) – Bob Danes (33rd)

I had been an AQM on 511 Squadron Britannia’s for just short of three and half years when, completely out of the blue, I was posted to “A” Flight, 22 Squadron, Search and Rescue Helicopters at RAF Chivenor. The first AQM to be re-roled to Search and Rescue Helicopters. I did not discover until some years later that I was by way of an experiment to see if AQM’s (now called Air Loadmasters) could make the transition to rotary. It was a steep learning curve but fortunately I passed the course although over eighteen months were to elapse before the next AQM succeeded. There was no small amount of resistance to this new breed moving across into Coastal Command.

I had become somewhat disenchanted with the role of an AQM on Brits. A few (by no means all) of the older AQM’s were very full of themselves and made life for us younger guys quite tiresome. Similarly there were a few Brit Captains and Flight Deck crew who saw themselves as the centre of the universe and viewed young Sgt AQM’s as something akin to their personal staff, present solely to do their bidding (again not all, but more than a few). Thus my forthcoming posting was a blessing.

The Squadron Commander was a rather an aloof, remote and uncommunicative man who I had once been ignored by when I said “Good Morning Sir” to him in the squadron. That was my sole contact with him. I never flew with him of course, that was a privilege reserved by and for the older generation of AQM’s – not the likes of me!!

And so when I was posted the Squadron Adjutant told me that I would be required to attend upon the Sqn Cdr for a farewell interview. Late afternoon on my final day on the Squadron I was ushered into “the presence” by the Adjutant. I marched in, saluted, and waited. “Ah, come in, ah……” said the Squadron Commander as he rifled through a box of index cards on his desk and pointing at the chair in front of his desk.. “Umm, take a seat, ah, ah….. Bob”. At last he had found me!!!

To cut the story short, the interview went something along the lines of how had I enjoyed my time on the Squadron, “OK, thank you sir, but not blisteringly fulfilling” I mentioned that I didn’t much enjoy being a coffee jockey and treated like a servant (albeit not all the time but more than frequently). I had hoped to have far more responsibility as Aircrew but that was far from the case despite a couple incidents where I had proved my worth in Spades (yet another tale!) under pressure.

Anyway the interview joggled along in similar vein and I was now being referred to as Sergeant by the Squadron Commander. He then indicated that the interview was over. I stood, moved to the door, turned and saluted. As I did so the Wing Commander said, “Of course Danes, you are going to helicopters, which is where all the dead beats finish up”. I couldn’t believe my ears, so I said “Thank you very much Sir, I’ll see you on the course”
Jesus Christ, I think the eruption hit “Point Eight” on the Richter Scale. As you will have divined this was not an auspicious departure. I then worried about my posting going to pot and far reaching consequences catching up with me before I could get off the station. Fortunately there was no untoward aftermath and I went to SAR and enjoyed every single minute of the reminder of my career in the RAF.

But the whole incident illustrates how AQM’s were thought of and treated, by people who should have known better. It also highlights how the rotary world was viewed, by what one senior officer once described to me as, “the main stream Air Force” . He was drawing a comparison ‘twixt fixed wing and rotary but how very wrong and uninformed he turned out to be.

Not long after this I applied to re-engage to 22 years. Apparently, unbeknown to me, past assessments and ACR’s had a bearing on how such applications might proceed. I was being interviewed by my Flight Commander at Chivenor and he asked me what my “numbers” were like. In those days of course one didn’t have a clue, you just were not told or interviewed, so I intimated that in the light of my less than favourable exodus from 511 Squadron I probably wouldn’t get to first base as a candidate for re-engagement.

My Flight Commander ‘phoned the Chief Clerk there and then with me still in his office. After a brief conversation he proceeded to scrawl some figures on his pad. I had learnt to read upside down very early on in my RAF career(!) and was absolutely amazed to see that “my numbers” more than met the requirements. I did intimate to my Flight Commander that he should perhaps check to make sure that the Chief Clerk had dredged up the correct documents!! He had.

What that all proves, well at least to me, is that objectivity prevailed and that I had not been penalised for my less than proper or required conduct – thank God!!