freddie who? 01

Freddie who? (Part 1)

Freddie Flit. The curse of all who resided on the paradise isle.

A youngish commissioned Blue Job, whose sole purpose in life was to meander round the clear blue skies above Christmas Island and annoy the CR*P out of all ground based humanity trying to go about their daily tasks.

DDT. In America it was banned, in the UK there was talk about its effects, on Christmas Island it was the “Underarm Deodorant” of the Pacific.

Get one Auster light aircraft, fit a tank capable of holding in the region of 500 gallons of “liquid aggravation”, attach same to a spray, add one stupid Blue Job with a death wish, and what do you have? Freddie “Bloody” Flit.( see photo )

In my 12 months on Christmas Island, I was to witness on numerous occasions the death defying “stunts” of this cretin, whose real purpose in life was to kill off the flies that made the breeding habits of rabbits seem geriatrically slow.

Sadly no one had pointed out to him that flies didn’t breed directly over the NAAFI, swimming pool, dining hall and tank farm. These 4 areas seemingly being his favourite target.

Some of the following “shorts” regarding his antics will prove beyond all shadow of doubt that in the RAF they do give commissions to Zombies.

Tank Dipping

One of the more mundane daily tasks carried out by Yorkie and myself. Nothing too technical or difficult, more boring than anything else. It had to be done by someone, the “Prof” couldn’t be relied upon to do it without causing some life threatening drama, so it was down to us two to do it.

The only difficult part of the whole operation was getting the “bits” to the top of the tanks. Dip Tapes, flasks and hydrometers, cloths and water finding paste being the main essentials. It wasn’t the type of item, just a case of how do you carry it and hang on to the ladders at the same time?

Once on top of the tank it was just a case of opening the hatch and doing your thing. WRONG.

It had become a case of one person opening the hatch and doing the job and the other keeping an eye open for that maniac “Freddie”, not Freddie of Friday the 13^th fame, but just as dangerous.

Suddenly from nowhere you’d be looking straight into the eyes of the manic sprayer. He’d appear as if by magic from out of the sun, tactically brilliant manoeuvre on his behalf, terrifying on ours. You could see the well-aimed droplets homing in. Where could you go? Nowhere, you were 20+ feet up on top of a tank.

He’d done it again. 20 years earlier, with his skill, he’d have been dropping ME 109’s and Stukas faster than the Reich could have built them.

There had to be an answer. How could we beat him? No other option than to have a discussion on tactics. War had been declared. Freddie Flit” had thrown down the gauntlet. Was a Bluey going to challenge the Island “Pongos” and win? NO CHANCE.

What we needed to do was give him a taste of his own medicine, put the frighteners on him for a change. Make him realise that the “Pongo” hunting season was over.

Accordingly the plan was put into action, with a few trips to the top of the tanks out of hours to prepare our revenge.

The day arrives. We know Freddie is up there somewhere. He knows that sometime during the morning we’ll also be up there so to speak.

We wait until we hear the stuttering hum of his engine and then we go rapidly up the tanks to prepare ourselves for “Operation Repel Flit”.

In retrospect, our plan was somewhat foolhardy. I’d imagine that even a light aircraft impacting into the side of a tank full of Avgas could be a little dodgy to say the least. Nevertheless, it was his gauntlet. He’d struck the first blow, and now it was our turn.

The roar of the engine filled the air as our “Ace” headed toward us. If only he’d known.

For once instead of cowering like cowards we were prepared for battle.

Pick up the couplings. Yes I said couplings, fittings used to connect pipes together. Sizes and weights varied according to pipe diameter. Ours were 4” & 6” not too heavy, so they could be hurled quite a distance with some degree of accuracy.

Needless to say, Freddie wasn’t actually overjoyed to see these missiles heading in his direction. Imagine what one of those could do to an Auster’s propeller or even the canopy.

Accompanying each missile were words of encouragement like “Sod off Freddie”, “How do you like it then?” and “If you crash try to avoid the Tanks”. Due to the fact that he was a commissioned officer, we also respectfully gave him a couple of salutes. Harvey Smith 2 finger salutes being the order of the day.

Isn’t it strange? For some reason our intrepid sprayer seemed to steer clear of the tanks farms after that.