The Right Stuff

[thunderlizard]

Are you EO in disguise?

If it was an EO story, it would have ended with something like "But I had the last laugh that night, when I bayonetted them in their sleep"

[shaunbhoy]

they had to leave our brains in, unless you joined the regiment.

Rather ironically, and always of course assuming your brains were sizeable enough, they coped quite well with the rigorous regime. Can't speak for some of the non-techy types of course. I suspect some of them still trawl those sands looking for grey matter that became dislodged during those very activities.

[shaunbhoy]

Did you spend any time in Harrogate?

Only visited there to play sport. Spent way too long in Catterick though!!!

[Gibbon]

Nice story, but it lost all credibility with that statement. You were a Blue Job. You have little conception of what a beasting actually is. Try running along Scarborough beach ,wearing only your shorts, at 6am on a November morning after doing press-ups in the North Sea, having been advised to take your wet PT shirts off so that you "don't catch a cold!". And that before the day's fun has even started.
Other than that, quite entertaining.

Quite correct old bean, I was talking relative to civi life. But you see they had to leave our brains in, unless you joined the regiment.

[SupremeSpod]

Nice story, but it lost all credibility with that statement. You were a Blue Job. You have little conception of what a beasting actually is. Try running along Scarborough beach ,wearing only your shorts, at 6am on a November morning after doing press-ups in the North Sea, having been advised to take your wet PT shirts off so that you "don't catch a cold!". And that before the day's fun has even started.
Other than that, quite entertaining.

Did you spend any time in Harrogate?

[shaunbhoy]

Well back in the spring of 85 young Gibbon, all of 18, was nearing the end of his radar course at RAF Cosford. It had been a hard course and only 9 of the original 17 were left. Two failures of an exam and you were out or back coursed if the failure was marginal, the pass mark was 60% none of this bed wetting 40%. Anyway whilst we were working on our Doppler theories a Sgt came into the room and said the we were being offered an unprecedented chance. It turns out the NASA were looking to take on a RAF electronics technician to help with the space program and was anyone willing to volunteer. Well 9 hands shot to ceiling, but I’m sure mine was first and highest. The Sgt reckoned we would have to have a competion, as he couldn’t really decide between us.

Well a few days later instead of our usual beasting at the gym we were informed that today was selection day and the gym had been set up to allow us to undertake various trials. First was a bog standard assault type course, then came the claustrophobia test which consisted of being locked in a gym locker ten minutes! Next came various more bizarre tests such crawling tests and throwing tests. Anyway one by one my course mates started to drop out and I could scent victory when there was only two of us left. The next test was tin the pool and we were given some overalls, with a myriad of zips sewn in, to put on over our trunks. We then had to retrieve various items from the bottom of the pool and swim through hoops etc.

My rival dropped out at this stage and I was left on my own to see if I could pass the last test. Basically in my soaking wet overalls I was attached to a trampoline harness and given a cloth. My task was to prove that I could wipe my arse whilst performing somersaults to simulate being in space, that’s why there was a zip in the overalls right over my arse. Well been an extremely keen Gibbon I easily completed the task but was a bit concerned that the rest of the course, gym staff, course staff and other recruits coming into the gym had seen this test.

Having pushed this concern to the back of my mind I climbed down from the trampoline ready to receive confirmation that I Gibbon from nowhere town up north was off to NASA. My heart was beating like a drum as the Sgt beckoned me over and held out a sheet of paper with what I presumed would be my reporting instructions………

My reporting instructions were that, for that week only, I was cock of the week with a nice certificate to prove it containing a rather large drawn phallus with my name on it. The claustrophobia test was when they let the rest of the course know how to play it and at what point to drop out of the competion! Of course I laughed and congratulated them on such an elaborate setup, but a little bit of me was quite sad for I’d firmly believed for a short few seconds that I was off to NASA.

Nice story, but it lost all credibility with that statement. You were a Blue Job. You have little conception of what a beasting actually is. Try running along Scarborough beach ,wearing only your shorts, at 6am on a November morning after doing press-ups in the North Sea, having been advised to take your wet PT shirts off so that you "don't catch a cold!". And that before the day's fun has even started.
Other than that, quite entertaining.

[Pondlife]

Top story.

[sasguru]

Well back in the spring of 85 young Gibbon, all of 18, was nearing the end of his radar course at RAF Cosford. It had been a hard course and only 9 of the original 17 were left. Two failures of an exam and you were out or back coursed if the failure was marginal, the pass mark was 60% none of this bed wetting 40%. Anyway whilst we were working on our Doppler theories a Sgt came into the room and said the we were being offered an unprecedented chance. It turns out the NASA were looking to take on a RAF electronics technician to help with the space program and was anyone willing to volunteer. Well 9 hands shot to ceiling, but I’m sure mine was first and highest. The Sgt reckoned we would have to have a competion, as he couldn’t really decide between us.

Well a few days later instead of our usual beasting at the gym we were informed that today was selection day and the gym had been set up to allow us to undertake various trials. First was a bog standard assault type course, then came the claustrophobia test which consisted of being locked in a gym locker ten minutes! Next came various more bizarre tests such crawling tests and throwing tests. Anyway one by one my course mates started to drop out and I could scent victory when there was only two of us left. The next test was tin the pool and we were given some overalls, with a myriad of zips sewn in, to put on over our trunks. We then had to retrieve various items from the bottom of the pool and swim through hoops etc.

My rival dropped out at this stage and I was left on my own to see if I could pass the last test. Basically in my soaking wet overalls I was attached to a trampoline harness and given a cloth. My task was to prove that I could wipe my arse whilst performing somersaults to simulate being in space, that’s why there was a zip in the overalls right over my arse. Well been an extremely keen Gibbon I easily completed the task but was a bit concerned that the rest of the course, gym staff, course staff and other recruits coming into the gym had seen this test.

Having pushed this concern to the back of my mind I climbed down from the trampoline ready to receive confirmation that I Gibbon from nowhere town up north was off to NASA. My heart was beating like a drum as the Sgt beckoned me over and held out a sheet of paper with what I presumed would be my reporting instructions………

My reporting instructions were that, for that week only, I was cock of the week with a nice certificate to prove it containing a rather large drawn phallus with my name on it. The claustrophobia test was when they let the rest of the course know how to play it and at what point to drop out of the competion! Of course I laughed and congratulated them on such an elaborate setup, but a little bit of me was quite sad for I’d firmly believed for a short few seconds that I was off to NASA.

Are you EO in disguise?
Cracking story.

[Gibbon]

Well back in the spring of 85 young Gibbon, all of 18, was nearing the end of his radar course at RAF Cosford. It had been a hard course and only 9 of the original 17 were left. Two failures of an exam and you were out or back coursed if the failure was marginal, the pass mark was 60% none of this bed wetting 40%. Anyway whilst we were working on our Doppler theories a Sgt came into the room and said the we were being offered an unprecedented chance. It turns out the NASA were looking to take on a RAF electronics technician to help with the space program and was anyone willing to volunteer. Well 9 hands shot to ceiling, but I’m sure mine was first and highest. The Sgt reckoned we would have to have a competion, as he couldn’t really decide between us.

Well a few days later instead of our usual beasting at the gym we were informed that today was selection day and the gym had been set up to allow us to undertake various trials. First was a bog standard assault type course, then came the claustrophobia test which consisted of being locked in a gym locker ten minutes! Next came various more bizarre tests such crawling tests and throwing tests. Anyway one by one my course mates started to drop out and I could scent victory when there was only two of us left. The next test was tin the pool and we were given some overalls, with a myriad of zips sewn in, to put on over our trunks. We then had to retrieve various items from the bottom of the pool and swim through hoops etc.

My rival dropped out at this stage and I was left on my own to see if I could pass the last test. Basically in my soaking wet overalls I was attached to a trampoline harness and given a cloth. My task was to prove that I could wipe my arse whilst performing somersaults to simulate being in space, that’s why there was a zip in the overalls right over my arse. Well been an extremely keen Gibbon I easily completed the task but was a bit concerned that the rest of the course, gym staff, course staff and other recruits coming into the gym had seen this test.

Having pushed this concern to the back of my mind I climbed down from the trampoline ready to receive confirmation that I Gibbon from nowhere town up north was off to NASA. My heart was beating like a drum as the Sgt beckoned me over and held out a sheet of paper with what I presumed would be my reporting instructions………

My reporting instructions were that, for that week only, I was cock of the week with a nice certificate to prove it containing a rather large drawn phallus with my name on it. The claustrophobia test was when they let the rest of the course know how to play it and at what point to drop out of the competion! Of course I laughed and congratulated them on such an elaborate setup, but a little bit of me was quite sad for I’d firmly believed for a short few seconds that I was off to NASA.