and decided to throw her weight about and go ahead of the others to the front of the queue. The others, quite naturally, didn't like it. The culprit then started bridling and threatened me with reporting me, a Flying Officer, to her husband when he came home that night. I had my orders - and I stuck to them. I selected one woman at random and asked her her rank. She said "Civilian", but her husband was a Sergeant (or whatever). I then turned to the culprit and asked her what rank she was. She answered that her husband was a Squadron Leader. To this I replied "I know he's a Squadron Leader, but what rank are you?" Her expression could have killed me. I had to repeat the question. With not a little prompting from the others she sheepishly had to admit that she, too was 'civilian'. That acknowledged, I asked who was next to be served, sorted out the order of their arrival in the shop, and lined them up in that order with the culprit at the back because she had arrived last. Then I knocked on the shutter and the shop reopened. Problem solved, almost.
On returning to the domestic site I told Sam Weller what the problem had been and added that I was a little concerned as to any retribution. Sam left me in his office while he went into the CO's office next door to talk to Wg.Cdr. Kilmartin. I was called in too, and explained the situation. He advised me, there and then, to phone this woman's husband and explain to him what I had had to do, and that I was very embarrassed at having had to do it. Whether anyone else said anything to this Squadron Leader or not, I never found out. I heard no more, but admit to having been worried for a few days afterwards.
Our newly extended Mess had greatly increased accommodation. In the building as it was, I had a corner room with very little outlook. On moving back in I had a much larger upstairs room at the back with a wonderful view. I could look out across open country to the cone-shaped Desenberg knoll several miles away. This knoll had at its top the ruins of a castle dating back at least to the 100 Years War.
It was a place to visit on a nice day; the climb was very steep. It was from my new room that, one Sunday morning, on pulling back the curtains I saw a sight which momentarily panicked me. A large number of tanks and other armour was coming, cross-country, from the east, crashing through fences, crossing ditches, and ploughing up crops with their tracks. "Shit. The Russians are here" I thought. "I'm in my pyjamas. I'm the bloody Station Defence Officer. How can I get to the Armoury - but that's no good I've got nothing to kill a tank, and there's too many of them. There's no time. We've had it." Someone yelled from a room down the corridor "Wake up you lot. Look out of the frigging window". All sorts of expletives immediately rent the air of the Mess. Then I saw several army Land Rovers on the Peckelsheim road, and my senses came back to me. Only then did I realise that the tanks were British. Panic over. My tank recognition training had deserted me when I most needed it. The Pongos were enjoying one of their 'Schemes'. When we checked later, the Army hadn't bothered to tell the RAF. So much for inter-service liaison.
In 537 SU days there were so few Officers we had to make our own fun. Those of us who lived-in were often invited to the homes of those living in married quarters. We were invited for meals and parties, and maybe just for a Saturday afternoon cup of tea and a social chat. All this was very much appreciated by us. I found it just a little embarrassing because there was no way I could reciprocate; wives could come to the Mess on weekend evenings with their husbands as of right, so this was no novelty to them. I decided on another approach. To occupy myself when I had spare time I used to make up marquetry pictures from kits bought when on leave. These pictures made excellent gifts. Then there was a craze for parchment lampshades embellished with wine and beer bottle labels. I started to make these, too, steaming labels off bottles from the bar and gluing them on to thick paper cut to the desired shape. I made the frames from brazing wire and the cores of electrical
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