Tony Cunnane's RAF Years

I decided that I could do better than that. Purely as an academic exercise, I typed a lengthy letter explaining in some considerable detail why I thought I should be re-trained as a pilot. I still have a photocopy of that letter too, now badly fading at the edges, and I'm still amazed what it led to. I passed the letter through the connecting hatchway to my Boss, the Senior Personnel Staff Officer, Squadron Leader Dougie Fish, explaining to him that I did not expect the letter to go any further than his Boss, Group Captain Hugh Lynch-Blosse, the Staff Officer in charge of Administration, but I did want to make a point on behalf of all AEOs. I then forgot all about it and got on with my work. About two months later I was summoned to the AOC’s office for what I expected to be one of our routine meetings. I was ushered into the presence by the ADC, Flight Lieutenant Mike Pilkington.

‘Ah, Tony, come in and sit down,’ said Splinters, beaming all over his face. Now that was unusual! Air Vice-Marshal Smallwood was not noted for his affability and he had never before addressed me by my first name. Furthermore junior staff officers were not normally invited to sit down.

A short digression. The AOC had an interesting rule about working hours. He used to say to his staff that they could start work at the scheduled time of 0800 hours or any later time they wished, as long as they got to their office before he got to his!

Splinters was one of the grand old school of AOCs. He once arrived by air at a station within his group for the annual AOC’s Inspection. In those days the inspection always started with a formal parade. The Station Commander greeted the AOC at his aircraft and they got into the car for the short drive to the parade ground. On the way there the AOC saw something, it is not recorded exactly what, that caused him displeasure.

‘This station is not ready for my inspection. I’ll be back in exactly seven days,’ he snapped, to the Station Commander's dismay.

With that he ordered the car to take him back to his aircraft. He arrived back at Mildenhall about an hour later, but many hours earlier than expected. A number of staff officers, having decided to have a few hours off while the AOC was away, were caught out and thereby incurred the AOC’s wrath.

Seven days later he arrived at the same station, not by air as expected but by road, at 0630 hours, three hours earlier than the scheduled time. His large staff car with star plates fixed front and rear and pennant flying from the bonnet, swept unnoticed past the Guard Room (no booking-in and no gate guards in those days) and went straight to the Airmen’s Mess. The AOC, wearing his ceremonial uniform, went to the servery, joined the few astonished airmen in the queue and, when it was his turn, ordered breakfast. A startled cook telephoned the Station Commander to tell him that the AOC was already on base, having breakfast. The Station Commander did not get any breakfast that day!

Anyway, in the AOC's office I waited expectantly, notebook and pen at the ready.

‘I liked your letter,’ said Splinters, turning the pages of a blue personal file - mine as it turned out.

‘Which particular letter was that, sir?’ I asked, mystified.

‘The one asking for re-training as a pilot. I was so impressed with your arguments that I telephoned the Air Secretary, Air Marshal Sir Brian Burnett. He’s an old friend of mine. He agreed that you had made out a good case and should be given a chance. You start your pilots’ course at South Cerney next month. Don’t let me down!’

To say that I was flabbergasted would be an understatement. Clearly either Dougie Fish or Hugh Lynch-Blosse had passed my letter on to the AOC when I had not really wanted that to happen. Some of my AEO contemporaries were outraged when the word leaked out; they thought I had abused my position. They were not in the least mollified when I passed the word around, discreetly so as not to upset the AOC, that I had not intended my letter to be taken seriously.

In fact there was one further hurdle I had to tackle before I could start my pilot training. I was summoned to the Ministry of Defence in London to be interviewed by the Deputy Director of Personnel (Air). It was the first time I had been to ‘Head Office’. I travelled by car and train from Mildenhall and presented myself in good time for the 11am interview. DDP(A), a group captain, kept me waiting in his outer office for about half an hour before I was ushered in by his secretary. I had done some research and I knew that he had been a Lightning squadron commander in his previous job. I had also learned that he had done all his service flying in single-seat fighter aircraft of one sort or another and had, according to my informants, little patience with, or liking for, non-pilot aircrew. I decided that it would be unwise to mention that I had not intended my letter to be forwarded beyond 3 Group HQ at Mildenhall.

‘Come in Cunnane and sit down,’ said the Group Captain, rather curtly. He flicked, rather unnecessarily, through a blue Staff-in-Confidence personal file. ‘I have your letter to your AOC here,’ he continued, without having any eye contact with me. ‘A most remarkable letter I must say. Whatever possessed you to write such a letter?’

‘I would have thought that was fairly obvious, sir’ I replied. ‘As a good staff officer I wanted to ensure the AOC was aware of the unhappiness amongst his AEOs about their career prospects. I could simply have asked for an interview with my AOC but I decided to write him that rather lengthy letter instead. The AOC told me that he approved of my letter and had forwarded it to the Air Secretary for a decision. I thought the whole matter was settled - I'm supposed to be starting my pilot training in a couple of weeks.’

The AOC was two ranks higher, and the Air Secretary three ranks higher, than the Group Captain sititng in front of me.

‘I’m aware of that and I cannot over-rule the Air Secretary. However, I wanted to make sure that you appreciate what you are taking on. Currently,’ he flicked through my file again as he spoke, ‘you’re a highly regarded officer and you could be in line for promotion in three or four years. If you go on a pilots’ course and fail you will never be able to revert to being an AEO.’

‘I’m aware of that, sir,’ I replied.‘

'I expect you would like to go and have a bit of lunch and think it over,’ said the Group Captain. ‘Why not come back at 2-o-clock and let me know what you’ve decided.’

‘There’s no need, sir,’ I replied. ‘My mind is quite made up. I wish to accept the Air Secretary’s offer.’

‘Very well, Cunnane. Be it on your head.’ He flung my personal file into his Out Tray and took up another from his In Tray. Clearly I was dismissed!

Air Marshal Smallwood dropped into my office at Mildenhall a couple of days later.

‘I understand you were a little short with DDP(A). You'd better make sure you do well in your pilot training - he's not a man to be crossed and he'll not forget you. Good luck to you.’

I seem to recall that I was very subdued and worried on the journey back to East Anglia. The enormity of what I had done was only then beginning to sink in. Nevertheless, there was now no going back and that was how I became the RAF’s oldest ever pilot student when I started my training at the age of 30.

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