Orders to reduce

Tony Cunnane - author and pilot

Reduce the Red Arrows to 7 aircraft

I always assumed that all my telephone calls were monitored: paranoia maybe, but it was a habit I had got into

The week beginning 2 March 1998 was a very traumatic week for the Team. It began with great expectations. The first nine-ship formation practice of the 1998 Season was expected to be flown sometime that week – weather permitting. On the Tuesday afternoon just as Simon Meade was about to start the pre-flight briefing for the final seven-aircraft sortie of the day, he was called by the Adjutant, Warrant Officer John Howard, to talk to the Commander-in-Chief on the telephone. That in itself was quite remarkable. It was very rare for the Boss to be summoned during or immediately before a briefing. Only operational matters relevant to the sortie about to be flown were allowed to interrupt briefings and even very senior officers understood that. The Adjutant had explained to the Commander-in-Chief's aide that a briefing was in progress but the aide insisted that the Team Leader should come to the phone immediately.

It was a good 20 minutes before Simon returned, smiling disarmingly. He continued with the briefing without saying anything to anyone about the telephone call. It was infuriating and Simon knew full well that we were all intensely interested to know what the Commander-in-Chief had wanted to say that was so important that it could not wait until after the sortie. But Simon, always the professional, was more concerned with the job in hand.

I was then away sick at home for two days and completely forgot about the incident. Late on the Thursday the Manager, Squadron Leader Mike Williams, telephoned me at home. He wanted to know if I would be fit enough to go to work on Friday because the Boss had something to tell me that could not be discussed on the phone. Although I was intrigued, I did not connect this summons with the Commander-in-Chief's call to Simon earlier in the week. I said that I would be there on the following day.

I started work on Friday morning at my usual time, just after 0600, and got on with dealing with the ordinary mail and the e-mail that had accumulated during my two-day absence. The time passed quickly as it always did early in the morning and by the time Simon arrived at his usual time, about 0750, I had almost forgotten that I'd been asked to come in especially so that he could talk to me. He came into my office and closed the door. That was unusual – my office door was rarely closed.

'The C-in-C told me on Tuesday that with immediate effect the team is to be reduced from nine to seven,' Simon announced, without any preamble.

I was flabbergasted! 'That's ridiculous,' I said.

'The reason he gave,' continued Simon, with the little smile that I knew so well hovering on his lips, 'is the shortage of Hawk airframes forecast for the next year or so while the engineers get on with some major work involving the main spar of all the Hawks. It seems the C-in-C has a difficulty with letting the Red Arrows keep 13 Hawks while the flying training school at Valley is struggling to keep their training throughput going.'

At that time the Team had, and needed, 13 Hawks on its inventory - the right number to guarantee that the engineers could maintain 10 serviceable throughout the display season.

'I told the C-in-C that we were about to fly our first nine ship practice on Wednesday,' continued Simon. 'Of course, he understands how psychologically important that is – especially for the FNGs. I asked him, in the interests of good morale if nothing else, to let me at least fly the first nine. He agreed – a bit reluctantly I think. I then asked if I could programme a nine-ship practice for Thursday as well – just in case something cropped up to spoil the Wednesday flight. He finally agreed to that as well.'

The Team had flown their first nine-ship of the season on the Wednesday and another one the following day. Only after that did Simon tell his pilots of the decision to reduce the Team. Thus, whatever else came to pass, the three first-year pilots in the 1998 Team, Flight Lieutenants Andy Evans, Andy Lewis and Ian Smith, had at least flown twice in a nine-ship formation.

'The C-in-C told me that he thought it was likely that a seven aircraft display would continue for five years and after that it might be possible to revert to nine.'

'I don't believe it,' I said. 'Once they reduce us to seven aircraft they'll never allow us to go back to nine. There'll always be a reason to keep us at seven.'

Simon seemed to think that someone at MoD might have already leaked the news to the media but he would not be drawn and I never did get to the bottom of it. Had someone told Simon to tell me that? Was it a veiled suggestion to me that I should leak the news to the press? Surely not – they knew me better than that! Simon merely said he wanted me to be ready with a suitable story in case the media got in touch with me, and they surely would when the local spotters saw the Team practising with seven aircraft again so soon after the first nine ship sorties.

I racked my brains. What story could I put out? The idea of reducing the world famous Red Arrows to a display with just seven aircraft was both humiliating and extremely bad PR for the RAF – and for UK plc. It would reduce the Red Arrows to a second-rate team in the eyes of professional aviators the world over. I thought it highly unlikely that British Aerospace would wish to continue their long association with the Team and that it was probable that there would be no more overseas tours sponsored by British Industry. As for the suggestion that the Team would be restored to nine aircraft a few years down stream – well no-one, but no-one, would believe that.

'If you want my opinion,' I said to Simon after a few seconds thought, 'if the RAF is really so desperately short of Hawk aircraft, I think the Team should be disbanded altogether. At least that way the Red Arrows can go out on a high note.'

'Give the matter some more thought,' said the Boss, rising to leave. 'I've got a lot to do.'

Having spent years working in military intelligence, I always assumed that all my telephone calls were monitored: paranoia maybe, but it was a habit I'd got into. I frequently used to make joke comments in the middle of a telephone call to colleagues such as, 'I'll just say that again slowly for the tape.' So, when I spoke to John Turner, the Command Public Relations Officer, about half an hour after Simon had broken the news to me, I did so in guarded terms. It immediately became obvious, however, that John knew what I was talking about and that he had already been involved in some sort of briefing at Command HQ. John's immediate advice, when I mentioned a possible leak at MoD, was that we should deny any knowledge of the matter – in other words I was to tell lies, something I had never done in all my time as a PRO. I told him I was not at all happy with that suggestion and he agreed to seek further advice.

The weather on that Friday morning was appalling, high winds, low cloud and torrential rain. The aircraft remained in the hangar and Simon was able to take time out to interview the three first year pilots individually and at some length. The plan was for one of the new pilots to remain with the Team and become the Team Manager, thereby allowing the posting of the pilot who had been pre-selected for that post to be cancelled. I was not privy to the discussions but I assume the Leader was discussing with them which two of the three should leave if it came to that. It was hoped that two would be allowed to remain on the Squadron doing odd jobs and then become the new pilots for the 1999 Team – only two would have been needed for 1999 anyway. That plot would, of course, mean that the 20-plus applicants who had already been through part of the pre-selection procedure, would all be told they had not been selected.

All things considered, the decision to reduce the Team could hardly have been made at a more difficult time of year and it appeared, not for the first time, that someone, somewhere, had it in for the Red Arrows. On Friday afternoon of that dark and wintry week, John Turner the Command PRO and I had another guarded conversation. John told me that the most senior civil servant in the Command Secretariat, the group of civil servants that advises the Commander-in-Chief, had decided that we PROs should not tell outright lies. That was very decent of him, I thought! The senior civil servant thought that, if questioned, I should say something on the lines of, 'Yes, I have heard the story about the Red Arrows reducing from nine to seven aircraft but I'm unable to confirm or deny it since decisions of that nature rest with Ministers.' To my mind that was a lengthy way of saying 'no comment' and passing the buck. I told John that I preferred not to refer to Ministers – they were the prerogative of the Ministry of Defence PROs not one at station level.

Eventually it was agreed that, if asked about the reduction, I would say that I had heard the story and that I was waiting for further information from our HQ. John and I both knew that if reporters got wind of the story from any source, they would telephone both of us and the Ministry of Defence Press Office to check if we were all putting out the same line. It was all part of the PR game.

Some time on that same busy Friday afternoon a rumour started going around Cranwell which postulated that the whole story about the Red Arrows having to reduce to seven aircraft had been invented to test reactions to the idea within the RAF and amongst the general public. It was even suggested that 'they' actually wanted the story to be leaked to the media to achieve that very aim. A concurrent variant on this rumour said that the decision to reduce to seven had been taken by the full Air Force Board but the air marshals wanted the announcement to be made by the Minister for the Armed Forces, thereby absolving the Air Force Board of all blame! Intriguing thought. What gave rise to those rumours? No-one outside the Red Arrows was supposed even to know that the reduction was being planned. Simon Meade asked me to keep him informed of any media enquiries or other developments over the weekend.

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