Below is a taste of what went on at the second Hercules Fleet Reunion, written by Phil Jones, Association Sec, no less!
“On Friday 9th October, a fine selection of once-our-Country’s-finest gathered to remember their former fleet and their (all too many) absent colleagues. The venue was The Village Hotel, Swindon and somewhere North of two hundred assembled for the evening. If that sounds vague, it’s because I went as a guest, not as Court Reporter. All the Sqns back to 1966 were well represented along with two tables full of GE’s (what’s that collective noun, then?) and another from 47AD.
We had answered the invitation of Simon Footer (Wg Cdr Ret’d) and his hard working committee but, in case this sounds as if any of us felt it a duty, let me assure you that it most certainly was not. This was going to be a brilliant thrash, in company I thoroughly enjoy. Besides, Ari owed me a beer from two years ago.
Understandably the Falklands era was particularly well represented and amongst many from 30 who I hadn’t see in decades was Roger Dickinson, who was a Co back then, before his airline career and a retirement spent half in South Africa. In addition, I counted over a dozen Association members and got another prospective to join. However, I have a special “Secretary's Request”: if anyone attending can recall someone giving me a tenner and saying “I’m in!”, can they please PM me? It was that sort of night… still, I’m £10 to the good at the moment.
If I said that, to call us to dine a Piper had been sourced from somewhere, I just know the wits among you will fill my inbox, explaining exactly which Country(ies) that skirling instrument originates from. Thank you, in advance … and Go Away! Suffice it to say, he added a fine ambiance to an evening already going rather splendidly. As at the first fleet reunion, Dave Fry had produced a superb slide show, with rarely seen shots of Albert along with the poignant pictures of colleagues departed during their happier days. These were projected hugely on most walls. A place had also been set for our missing friends.
The Village Hotel staff produced a fine meal for us but, unfortunately, our surprise guest had to withdraw at short notice due to ill health. Thus, there was no Air Marshall John Cheshire to address us afterwards. The entire room wished him well, in the hope that we might hear some of his pearls of wisdom at a future event, possibly along with telling us of things he may … or may not, of course … have done in his day. Had he been there. Which he wasn’t, of course. And you can’t prove it. And anyone saying otherwise will be fed to EU to be Ground Catted. Into Eternity… (Just sayin’).
Instead Simon did as he does so well, and few ever noticed the “missing bit after the Loyal Toast”, as the yarning continued. During the evening, a raffle for a fine sum, donated by Kenny Everett (Ground Eng. Not t’other one off 47), was held. I bought a couple of bottles of creatively priced Commemorative Gin and others bid for some truly excellent A3 size photos such as “Albert head on. On a wingtip” and “Albert over the desert. All but below his own shadow”. The total raised will be into four figures but the committee haven’t shared the amount yet. My contacts at Dick Lovett have been asked, however, to watch out for any misappropriated funds going their way but excuse my levity: we all know that every last penny will go to RAFA. Plus a few more, I imagine. I’ll let you know the amount in further course.
In the interests of accurate reporting, I tried to keep going to the very end. However, as numbers in the bar dwindled to single figures and my watch showed a time I haven’t seen since retirement, I stacked at about 0245ish, determined to get some value from taking a room! The camaraderie had been exceptional; the banter unbeatable and my realisation refreshed, that an occasional bash like this makes you feel young again, amongst a crowd of similar minded blokes and ladies all doing likewise.
The inevitable price was paid during a fairly quiet breakfast, which I enjoyed in Colin Ruston’s company before I used one of those “Breathalise Yourself” devices and set off for home, no less legal than a Herc crew leaving Akrotiri.
PJ