get away with it this time.
‘Where were you at 0700?’asked Todd. ‘Why were you not at the squadron as ordered?’
Before Stumpy could offer a lame excuse Todd exploded.
‘I’ve just about had enough of you Stokes. This is the third time in a month that you've crossed me and undermined my authority on the squadron. I will not have you blatantly disobeying me and then going back to your cronies and laughing at my expense. I will not have the discipline of this squadron prejudiced.’
Todd was now shouting - something he didn’t often do. But this time he wanted to be certain that Stumpy understood him.
‘You have been deliberately winding me up for weeks now,’ Todd continued, ‘ever since your annual confidential report debrief, and I’ve just about had enough of it. When I give you an order or an instruction I expect it to be obeyed. I don’t often give orders on this outfit - I don’t need to - most people are pulling together and usually a polite request is all that is needed. But you , Stumpy, are stepping over the line. You’ve mistaken kindness and friendship for weakness. Well, my friend , you've made a serious mistake. Firstly, you’re off the Red Flag detachment to Las Vegas in the Spring. Secondly, you’re grounded for a week - operations desk duties, and last - but not least - you’re off the flypast.’
Stumpy’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his ears. The man was going right over the top. Complete over-reaction. Never mind, he thought, keep quiet for now - the boss would overrule this - they needed Stumpy for the flypast. They were desperately short of four-ship leaders. They had no choice - this was clearly an attempt at the ‘frighteners’ by Morrissey. He would never see it through.
‘I’m not interested in excuses or pleas to change my mind. You’re out. And if the attitude doesn’t change - dramatically - you’ll be off this squadron quicker than you can say Machrihanish or RSO.’
Todd referred to the aviators nightmare posting as a Range Safety Officer on a practice bombing unit or as an Operations Officer at a remote Scottish backwater. Career and flying suicide.
‘Now, get out. You’ll find you’re off the programme this morning. Moose can swap with you - he was on the desk.’
Stumpy had decided to keep quiet - he’d play his cards later. He went quietly and Todd thought he had handled the situation very well. A senior officer didn’t often have to give one of the aircrew a bollocking - but he imagined that he had been extremely slick - just the right amount of pressure applied. However, he did need to convince the boss of Stumpy’s need for discipline and that may prove awkward. The boss was Stumpy’s leader on the Red Arrows tour and they were quite close. But in the final analysis, he could not back Stumpy against his own Executive Officer. He would have to accept the terms of Stumpy’s punishment whether he liked it or not. And what’s more, there was always the Air Marshal in MOD if the push came to the shove.
‘Always nice to have top cover,’ Todd murmured to himself as a knock came at the door.
It was Wing Commander Millar.
‘You missed Met, Todd.’ He was nit-picking. A usual ploy to put a subordinate off his guard, ‘and Stumpy looks a bit grumpy. Have you got a minute? Come next door into my office, will you?’
Todd stood up and followed Andy Millar into his office. Millar wasn’t a bad chap overall. Apart from being an ex-Jaguar pilot - most of whom were arseholes, - he was a good, no, excellent pilot who ruled the squadron by the fabled iron hand in velvet glove method. It worked well. He left the Flight Commanders alone to do their jobs, and would only interfere if absolutely necessary. So
‘Where were you at 0700?’asked Todd. ‘Why were you not at the squadron as ordered?’
Before Stumpy could offer a lame excuse Todd exploded.
‘I’ve just about had enough of you Stokes. This is the third time in a month that you've crossed me and undermined my authority on the squadron. I will not have you blatantly disobeying me and then going back to your cronies and laughing at my expense. I will not have the discipline of this squadron prejudiced.’
Todd was now shouting - something he didn’t often do. But this time he wanted to be certain that Stumpy understood him.
‘You have been deliberately winding me up for weeks now,’ Todd continued, ‘ever since your annual confidential report debrief, and I’ve just about had enough of it. When I give you an order or an instruction I expect it to be obeyed. I don’t often give orders on this outfit - I don’t need to - most people are pulling together and usually a polite request is all that is needed. But you , Stumpy, are stepping over the line. You’ve mistaken kindness and friendship for weakness. Well, my friend , you've made a serious mistake. Firstly, you’re off the Red Flag detachment to Las Vegas in the Spring. Secondly, you’re grounded for a week - operations desk duties, and last - but not least - you’re off the flypast.’
Stumpy’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his ears. The man was going right over the top. Complete over-reaction. Never mind, he thought, keep quiet for now - the boss would overrule this - they needed Stumpy for the flypast. They were desperately short of four-ship leaders. They had no choice - this was clearly an attempt at the ‘frighteners’ by Morrissey. He would never see it through.
‘I’m not interested in excuses or pleas to change my mind. You’re out. And if the attitude doesn’t change - dramatically - you’ll be off this squadron quicker than you can say Machrihanish or RSO.’
Todd referred to the aviators nightmare posting as a Range Safety Officer on a practice bombing unit or as an Operations Officer at a remote Scottish backwater. Career and flying suicide.
‘Now, get out. You’ll find you’re off the programme this morning. Moose can swap with you - he was on the desk.’
Stumpy had decided to keep quiet - he’d play his cards later. He went quietly and Todd thought he had handled the situation very well. A senior officer didn’t often have to give one of the aircrew a bollocking - but he imagined that he had been extremely slick - just the right amount of pressure applied. However, he did need to convince the boss of Stumpy’s need for discipline and that may prove awkward. The boss was Stumpy’s leader on the Red Arrows tour and they were quite close. But in the final analysis, he could not back Stumpy against his own Executive Officer. He would have to accept the terms of Stumpy’s punishment whether he liked it or not. And what’s more, there was always the Air Marshal in MOD if the push came to the shove.
‘Always nice to have top cover,’ Todd murmured to himself as a knock came at the door.
It was Wing Commander Millar.
‘You missed Met, Todd.’ He was nit-picking. A usual ploy to put a subordinate off his guard, ‘and Stumpy looks a bit grumpy. Have you got a minute? Come next door into my office, will you?’
Todd stood up and followed Andy Millar into his office. Millar wasn’t a bad chap overall. Apart from being an ex-Jaguar pilot - most of whom were arseholes, - he was a good, no, excellent pilot who ruled the squadron by the fabled iron hand in velvet glove method. It worked well. He left the Flight Commanders alone to do their jobs, and would only interfere if absolutely necessary. So
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