╨╧рб▒с>■  УХ■   СТ                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            ье┴s ┐╦ujbjb└ └ %Ёкkкk╦q      ]ЦЦЦЦЦЦЦRRRRR ^R5ъ~~~~~~~~ЄЇЇЇЇЇЇ,Їи Ц~~~~~ XЦЦ~~~XXX~▓Ц~Ц~ЄкT■TЦЦЦЦ~ЄXЪXЄЦЦЄr p╗RR0(Є Chapter XIX - The Tanker Role In February, 1957, Wg Cdr Trent and Fg Off O'Rourke went to Norway and completed an Arctic survival course with the Norwegian Air Force at Gol Ц a course which would later be undertaken by other aircrew members. During this month also four Valiants arrived at Marham, for use in the Strategic Air Command bombing competition which was to take place in the U.S.A. during October. All these Valiants were coated in the white anti-flash finish. On March 29, Air Marshal R.B. Jordon, CB, DFC, made an informal visit to Marham to meet officers and men of his old Squadron, which he had commanded in 1941. On September 26, Sqn Ldr Payne left Marham with his crew, in company with a Valiant of 138 Squadron, bound for the SAC Bombing Competition to be held at Pinecastle, Florida. No 3 Group had decided that, apart from the valuable experience to be gained by participation, competing offered comparison with veteran SAC crews. In addition to the two Valiants, three Vulcans also entered. The competition facing the British contingent was formidable. The SAC competitors were chosen from the best of more than two thousand, and nearly fifteen hundred of these crews had completed more than a thousand flying hours on their aircraft. It was therefore a fine achievement when Sqn Ldr Payne finished eleventh out of 90 crews in the individual bombing section. Operation Longshot was the name given to this competition which lasted for six nights, October 30 and November 5. Each Wing was represented by two crews flying on alternate nights. The route flown at level cruise was more than 2700 nautical miles and included an astro-navigation leg of over 800 miles, scored at the end by ground radar, and three widely-spaced bombing attacks, again scored by ground radar. A take-off limit of five minutes and an en-route timing tolerance of plus or minus three minutes was imposed. Failure to achieve this, or to achieve a competition total of six scored bomb runs and two scored astro runs, disqualified a crew. Each crew was monitored by an umpire throughout the flight. The number of supporting ground crew was regulated, as was the holding of spares, and no replacement aircraft crews, or crew members, were allowed after the start of the competition. Locations of the three targets were precise: the first was the base of the north east corner of the Columbian Steel Tank Company building in Kansas City, the second was the centre of a turntable in the railway marshalling yards at St Louis, and the third was the top of the north west corner of the General Services warehouse in Atlanta. In face of such a challenge, the Valiant Wing did well to finish 27th among the 45 highly-skilled crews competing over their own terrain. In October, overseas flights started with five crews leaving for RAF Akrotiri, Cyprus, and three for RAF Changi, Singapore. The latter three were captained by Wg Cdr Trent, Sqn Ldr Wynne, and Flt Lt Price, who flew out to gain experience in operating in climatic conditions peculiar to the Far East. February, 1958, heralded the end of 214's bombing role. Henceforth it would operate as a tanker squadron. It also had a change of commanding officer, as Wg Cdr Trent had finished his two years of duty. His replacement, Wg Cdr M.J. Beetham, later Air Marshal Sir Michael Beetham, GCB, KCB, CBE, DFC, AFC, like his predecessor, was an ideal choice for CO, and later made his mark as a pioneer in air-to-air refuelling techniques. Detachments sent to Boscombe Down in January had started trials on hook-up techniques with Brian Trubshaw. By February, the first converted aircraft arrived on the Squadron. Due to technical faults with the fuel pumps, only dry hook-ups could be carried out at that time. It was in 1959 that fuel transfers actually took place. The first wet hook-ups were planned by 3 Group for January 23, 1959, in daylight conditions, but snags occurred and the aircraft were not serviceable until after nightfall. Mike Beetham, the CO, decided to do a Nelson and turn a blind eye, so the op was carried out in darkness. Sqn Ldrs Garstin and Fern, accompanied by Ken Wickenden and Frank Russell of Flight Refuelling, successfully completed this first test. On May 14 and 20, 1958, the annual bombing competitions were held with 36 crews competing. Sqn Ldr Slessor came 8th, Sqn Ldr Furze 11th, Flt Lt Price 28th, and Sqn Ldr Wynne 36th, their combined result putting the Squadron in fourth place out of the nine squadrons that entered, including the 92nd Heavy Bombardment Wing of the USAF. The Squadron lost its Adjutant that month, when Flt Lt B. Gregory was killed in a motoring accident whilst on leave. The highlight of 1959 was the non-stop flight by Wg Cdr Beetham from Britain to Cape Town, South Africa, a journey of 6060 miles, which was covered in 11 hours, 28 minutes, at a speed of 530 mph. This notable first was flown on July 9. The crew consisted of Wg Cdr Beetham, DFC, pilot, Flt Lt Bregon co-pilot, Flt Lts Coupland and Taylor navigators, Fg Off Baker AEO, and chief technician Prior. If July was the zenith of 214's year, September was the nadir. Valiant XD869, taking off for a refuelling trip to Nairobi, crashed near Swaffham, Norfolk, losing all crew members: Flt Lt T.C. Watkins captain, Fg Off P.E. Wormall co-pilot, Flt Lt D. Howard nav/radar, Flt Lt M.F. Hyslop nav/plotter, Fg Off C. Candy AEO, and R.V. Sewell crew chief. This was also a worrying time for Cpl Roy Monk who said, "I think this was the worst time of my life. I was the engine NCO who did the inspections before the flight, signing for all the engine crew doing the ground runs, and signing the aircraft log. We also lost one of the best crew chiefs in Bob Sewell." Although Roy felt he had done his job correctly, there was always a worry until the Court of Enquiry had made its findings known. In this case, cause of the accident was found to be pilot error, but the event does underline the great responsibility that is placed on ground crew. I suspect, though, that very few cases of negligence are found, as the ground crew are a dedicated body of men, and all are safety conscious. In January, 1960, Wg Cdr Beetham was the recipient of an AFC and Sqn Ldr Garstin, B Flight Commander, received the Queen's Commendation for valuable services in the air. 1960 was also another year of firsts for the Squadron. On March 2/3, Sqn Ldr Garstin, flying Valiant XD858, made the longest non-stop flight by an RAF aircraft, when he flew 8500 miles around the UK in 18 hours, 5 minutes, the aircraft being refuelled twice in the air. Concerning the catering arrangements on these long distance flights, Sqn Ldr Garstin says: "In the Valiant, there was a heater that had been designed to accommodate tin cans, the rations for each person on a four hour flight being a tin of Unox, similar to Spam, and a tin of soup. On the eighteen hour flight, rations were four tins of Unox and four tins of soup. Our larders were bulging with the stuff!" Sqn Ldr Garstin was again in action on May 26, 1960, when he took off on a non-stop flight to Singapore. This flight of 8,110 miles was flown at an average speed of 523 mph in 15 hours, 35 minutes. Refuelling took place twice on the journey, from a tanker based at Akrotiri, Cyprus, flown by Sqn Ldr Furze; and then from a second tanker at Karachi, with Sqn Ldr Fern at the controls. Sqn Ldr Garstin received the AFC after this trip. The technique of in-flight refuelling used by the Squadron was to bring one's aircraft within a short distance of the fully extended drogue from the tanker, this being accomplished with radar aids. The aircraft was then brought into line, speed increased by about four miles per hour, and the probe nudged into the centre of the drogue. When refuelling started, both pilots made allowances for the changing weight and trim of their aircraft as the fuel was transferred. Between 1961 and 1964, No 214 Squadron carried out its normal tanker service, and also helped train crews from No 90 and 101 Squadrons, now converting to a tanker role. 214's excellent in-flight refuelling work was officially recognised on February 27, 1962 when Sir Alan Cobham, Managing Director of Flight Refuelling Ltd, himself a pioneer of mid-air refuelling, presented the Squadron with a silver trophy. In June, 1964, the presentation of Squadron Colours was made to Nos 49 and 214 Squadrons by Princess Marina, Duchess of Kent. In September, 1964, a fault was found in the rear main spar of Valiant WP217, at Gaydon, and some aircraft were grounded. Flt Lt Peach flew XD 816 from Marham to Winley on September 19 for inspection, and when the wings were stripped, advanced fatigue problems were discovered. By December 9, full checks were carried out throughout the Valiant fleet, and faults were found in the main spars. As the cost of replacement spars was found to be too high, it was decided that all Valiants should be scrapped, and flying ceased immediately. As replacement aircraft types were not then available, it was not until August, 1966 that the Squadron received its new aircraft. These were Victor B(K) Mk 1/As, and the establishment was to be eight of this type tanker. The first aircraft, XA938, arrived in September. By November, five aircraft were on strength, which increased to seven in December. A Bomber Command navigation competition was held in March, 1967. Two crews participated, captained by Flt Lts Smeeth and Wright. Flt Lt Robinson, of Flt Lt Wright's crew, came second in the navigational aspect of the competition, and the Squadron came second overall. September, 1967, was the Squadron's 50th anniversary, and celebrations were the order of the day. Three social functions were arranged and many past members of the Squadron visited Marham at this time. The principal guest was Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Constantine, KBE, CB, DSO, who had been 214's O/C B Flight in 1937. The Squadron was particularly pleased to welcome three of its founding members, Messrs G. Conley, F. Malpas, and W.H. Neeve, all of whom were members during World War 1. A guest night was held on September 15 in the officers' mess. The following day the aircraft were displayed in the afternoon, and this was followed by an International Wine Night, again in the mess. A Squadron party for all ranks was held on the 29th of the month. The Squadron lost a Flight Commander, Sqn Ldr M.T. Doyle, and his crew, Flt Lt K.J. Peacock, Fg Off R.S. Morton and Flt Lt W.A. Gallienne, of T.T.F., on August 19, 1968. All were killed when their Victor was involved in a mid-air collision over March, near Norwich, with a Canberra of No 213 Squadron, based in Germany. Sqn Ldr Doyle had taken up his post as Flight Commander that same morning. Flt Lt Peacock and Fg Off Morton were both original members when the Squadron was re-formed in July, 1966. From 1968 to January, 1977, the Squadron experienced its usual two year change-round of COs and participated in tanker operations on a world-wide scale. Flt Lt Peck received an Air Force Cross in the New Year's Honours list of 1971; and in 1972 and 1973, 214 was awarded the Sir Alan Cobham trophy for most efficient tanker squadron. More powerful Victor K-2 tankers arrived at Marham after 1975, to replace the K-01/1As on Nos 55 and 57 Squadrons, but as only 24 Victors were modified to the K's standard, and the Handley Page Company had been wound up some years previously, the doyen of flight refuelling squadrons was once again disbanded. One junior technician who served with 214 during these last two years was Bill Hannam, who gives some details of his service at Marham, up to the time of disbandment: "I remember very well my car journey from Cosford to Marham one late January evening in 1975, because as I approached the village I was horrified by how closed-in everything was. In fact it almost looked like the mangrove swamps in America and I thought back three months to when the Chief, who was instructing us at the time, gave us our posting forms. I can't remember what I put for second and third choices, but Marham was number one, and of course I got that posting. Nobody in their right mind put Marham. 'El Adam with Grass' was a common and not too affectionate title. I had a reason, of course, and it was simply that my brother had spent four years there in the fifties in 115 Sqdn Canberras, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. "The next morning I went round the station signing on at different places and finally cycled over to my place of work Ц 214 Squadron. It was over on the far side of the airfield, nicely tucked away from prying eyes, but a hell of a long way to cycle, and the aircraft were widely separated. The first man I met was the flight sergeant. There wasn't a lot that he didn't know, and he spotted straight away that I was a brand new junior technician with, please note, a brand new No 1 uniform. Did I know the previous J/T? No. Ah well, it didn't matter, but the silly chap got his foot under a Victor wheel and wasn't very well. He had been on Station Guard of Honour, and well, here was I the answer to his prayers. At this stage of the game I was extremely naяve, despite having been in the RAF for a year and a half. What I didn't realise was that this dubious privilege lasted for a year and you couldn't go on detachment either. "The evening came. Time for a rest, a pint of beer, says I. Like hell, said the sirens, as they went off at 7 p.m. I turned out like an idiot and cycled over to the Squadron. It was a foggy night and of course I got lost. The guard at Air Traffic Control wasn't lost and he soon pulled me up. 'Halt! Identify Squadron.' I'd completely forgotten, and came up with, '412'. Things started happening after that, and as I had a wrench with me it wasn't long before I found myself in the Guard House as a suspected saboteur. The flight sergeant rescued me in the end, just in time to go back, grab a rifle, and go out on guard. My first customer was obviously used to all this excitement because, with a contemptuous "f--- o--", he completely ignored me and disappeared inside the huts. I obviously had a lot to learn. In the end, at around 11 p.m., we all went home, due to lack of interest and a power failure. "The Squadron was at this time on detachment in Cyprus and those left behind were with 57 Sqdn, in front of the officer's married patch, quite close to the dog compound. The next week I was trying desperately to find my feet at No 57, with little success, and those first few days coloured my attitude toward any member of 57 from then on. As far as they were concerned, not only was I from another squadron but, infinitely worse, a brand new J/T straight from training school, of no use whatsoever. I read APs for three boring days. "They were right, of course. Our training might well have taught us about electronics, and the chiefs who taught us also passed on some interesting stories about squadron life, but there is no substitute for doing things yourself. What rankled the senior aircraftsmen in particular was that, in essence, they had to teach us aircraft handling and how to work on the Victor as regards our own equipment, and they were being paid far less than us! Gradually, over the next month, things sorted themselves out. A mass of blue became faces; the faces became names; and characters emerged. Once the Squadron came back from Cyprus, my induction began in earnest. "A typical day began about 7 a.m. with wash, shave and the rest, followed by what I call a good breakfast Ц cereals, tinned grapefruit, bacon and eggs, toast and tea. You could have as much as you wanted. At this time I was underweight: 8 st. 2 lbs on joining, 9 st. 4 lbs on leaving Cosford, and, by the time I left the RAF, 11 st. 10 lbs. The open-air life and plenty of exercise gave me a healthy appetite! Every squadron had its own transport and 214 was no exception. As a driver, one of my first jobs was to pick up the Mini, or one of the Landrovers, and do a daily inspection in the MT section. "Once work started, denims were the dress of the day. The first job was usually a crew-up. Each trade provided one man and, with a crew chief, made up a starter crew. The trades were Engines, Riggers, Electricians, and Fairies. When the tradesmen, engaged in Radar, Radio and Navigation Instruments, made checks on aircraft aerials, a wand was used with a neon bulb at the end, which used to light up when the radar was active, hence the name 'Fairies'. The air crew came out to us by bus and we were usually waiting for them on the pans; but if the aircraft was at the far end of the field, we all went down in the same transport. In summer, a crew-up was a pleasing experience, but in winter when it was raining, it could be a trial. Our first job would be to take out all the blanks, which were there to stop little birdies making their nests in the air intakes. Then we would get the PE set going so that the aircraft had power. The crew-chief did all his checks with the pilot. If you were lucky you could get the engines going. Most of the time I worked the power set, and then the chocks when we wanted to go. "There were times when I got landed with the fire bottles, and I make no apology in saying that I didn't like that job one little bit. To be ready with a fire extinguisher, in case of an engine fire, one man had to sit with bottles of carbon dioxide right underneath the engines, and go from No 1 to 4 as each one started Ц or didn't! If it didn't, the engine was bung full of fuel, and on the next try it frequently caught fire. Most of the time it blew out, but you never knew. "Time to go! Out chocks and marshall him out. For those brought up on Dinky toys like Venoms, Spits, and the like, I would hasten to add that the Victor is a bloody big aircraft, and only just fits on the normal sized pan, so marshalling to begin with is quite worrying and my first two attempts were both terrible. One of them provided the lads with a good laugh, and the other brought home to me something that I had suspected for a long time. "One morning the chief said, 'Come on, it's time you did a see-out.' 'Yes chief,' says I. So there I was with the bats, being told to keep the bloody big brute on the white line as it came out, and don't put it on the grass (very close), or into the power set. 'Right ho, chief,' says I, with as much enthusiasm as possible. Quick sprint to the loo? No, too late now, ah well, here goes! The chief in his infinite wisdom told the captain that we had a new lad on today, and would the said captain please follow all instructions as per book. So the captain did just that, and I tried to keep him in line by 'Left hand down a bit,' then 'Right hand down a bit'. The Victor, with nose-wheel steering, did a zig-zag out of the pan. I finally got him onto the peri-track. The chief was not impressed. "Not to worry! Here comes the Naafi wagon with hot pies, cups of tea made from a tea bag and condensed milk, and games to play later like bridge, crib, and uckers, which is a more interesting form of ludo. On the other hand we had a warrant officer and a flight sergeant who hated to see anyone sit down. I think they had a bet on, renewable each day, to see who could organise the most gash jobs; necessary from their point of view, I suppose, as everybody knows that lads are incapable of keeping out of trouble, and spare jobs kept them from getting bored. I hasten to add that both of them were extremely kind to me, personally, and the RAF will be a lesser place when they get demobbed. " 'See-in.' 'Yes, chief.' 'Go Go Go, he's already on the peri-track.' Out and running. Ye gods! Why can't ATC get its finger out? We got there just in time. One man out on the peri-track to turn him off, another sorting out the chocks, and another with the cockpit ladder. It gave me a lot of pleasure to do the marshalling off, except when it was raining. I wore glasses, and as nobody has yet invented windscreen wipers for glasses, I couldn't see in the rain. Night was even worse using wands, and when it came to night plus rain, I did chocks. As he came round I realised that this aircraft was the one I saw off only three hours before. Hmmm. I was putting chocks in when the jockey noticed me. 'Excuse me, were you the airman who marshalled me out?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Well, thank you very much. I look forward to seeing you on a crew-up again.' I couldn't believe it. I'd made a mess of it all and here he was thanking me. I learnt in later weeks that his nickname was Banacheck, after a TV personality of the time, and if he recognises himself, then I would like to thank him because he was the first of only two men that I met in the whole of my six years' service that I could honestly say were officers and gentlemen. "At dinner time you had a choice either to go on the bus that went all the way round the perimeter track, or go across in your own transport. Whichever way you chose, you were late, and the food wasn't as good as it might have been. You had a third choice: get an early dinner, and that is what I preferred. It meant you had dinner at 11:15 a.m. but the food was fresh. No queus and it was quiet. To someone older, a bit of peace and quiet was a bonus. The food was excellent, and the flight sergeant in charge knew his job. Our menu, literally any weekday, was as follows: as you went in, a choice of three meats, lamb, beef or pork, and Lofty always knew what I liked, a cut off the top because that was well cooked and had fat on top. He also knew that I liked gravy from the casserolled steak dish because it was a lot richer. Then, if you didn't want a roast you could choose a steak, an omelette, chicken, curry, fish, and then the veg, followed by sweets. The quality of food was superb. "Chiefy K. was our advanced electronics instructor at Cosford, and through the lazy days of summer in 1974 he took us through the intricacies of advanced transistor circuits. He was a good instructor because he knew when we had had enough. The tales of daring-do in various parts of the world fascinated me, and I am sure he wouldn't be offended in my telling of a little bit of advice he gave us all. He said, 'Just remember lads that when you get away from here you'll be at the sharp end enjoying yourselves. Remember that you expect your post to be there on time, eat good food, sometimes four meals a day, even when the going gets rough at times. Remember that somebody pays you, someone fits your uniform and gives you shoes. Remember all that, then think what it is for: To Get Aircraft Into the Air. It doesn't cost a lot to go back and say thank you.' "As I cycled back from dinner, one of our aircraft came back and I was just in time to attend the debrief, which was usually done by the crew chief and a sergeant from each trade. Some of the radar equipment was getting a bit old, and one particular monstrosity was guaranteed to give trouble. I was lucky with the shift I was on because we all seemed to get on fairly well together. A fellow J/T and I had worked out a routine whereby, as we listened to the debrief and knew the snags, one of us would get the trolley plus the mountain of test gear, while the other would pick up the paper work and a set of tools, and we would be working in a very short time. If a new set was needed, one of us would get the old one out while the other drove the Mini over to the stores and picked up a new set. He would have it back just as the old one was coming out. This equipment was a swine to fit, and as one part was at the front and the other at the rear, in the hot summer of 1975 we sweated. "At 4:30 p.m. we handed over to the night shift. Then it was back for tea and a welcome lie down for an hour, unless it was a dreaded bull night in the block. I never got used to block life. Perhaps being older made a difference, as I was 29 at the time. One day in September, 1975, we moved blocks and the warrant officer decided that one particular J/T needed a tidy up, so three reasonably smart men were put in the same room, me being one of them. There are some people who never change their ways and this chap was one of them. In the end we reported him to the SWO and he brought round the officer of the day who just about threw up on the spot. He made the said J/T wash every item of clothing, both civvy and RAF, and awarded seven days jankers. He was smart for a fortnight and then went straight back to his old ways. On the other hand, he could be very funny. We were both on Station Guard of Honour and the sergeant in charge did not have a brilliant sense of humour. We were sorting ourselves out to form a squad prior to going walkies, and were in best blue. J/T's shoes were filthy and the sergeant exploded. From the rear we could see that he was carrying his best shoes behind his back, and of course he produced them at the right moment. "The RAF is good at anything musical. That is, they simply write the word 'musical' and think of something to move. In the bad old days of National Service, it was mounds of coal, and, of course, men. In December, 1975, 214 Squadron was earmarked to play musical squadrons which entailed moving everything from our site on the far side of the airfield to 57 Squadron pans. As the move occurred two days before Christmas, it was definitely not a popular one. In the end, though, I preferred that site to the previous one. "On the whole, 214 was a happy squadron. However, there were some very dark clouds gathering. We knew that of the three tanker squadrons, 55, 57, and 214, operationally we were by far the worst. Indeed we had never won a trophy for anything in the annual Bombing Comps, but we had our pride. 55 and 57 were by this time fitting out with the Mark 2 Victor and finally we learnt that we would get their Mark 1s and disband in January, 1977. Right through 1976 I think the threat of disbandment must have coloured our thoughts and our work. For me it was a busy time. I went on Detachment twice: first to Malta, the Isle of Yells, Bells and Smells; and then to Gutersloh, the ex-Luftwaffe base near the Dutch border where it rained as I have never seen it rain in my life. "When I came back we were on our rundown. Aircraft were being flown away, the boss got posted and the Squadron Leader took over for the last two months. By Christmas we had about four aircraft, and whilst we were flying and still carrying on, the pace had really slackened. Once the Christmas break was over we started stripping the remaining aircraft. Indeed, we were still working on the morning of the disbandment parade. "Thursday, January 27, 1977, dawned bright and clear, and for 214 Squadron it was the last official flight. The see-off crew was in white denims with yellow bibs. Later we changed into best blue, and had a practice for the parade the next day. By late afternoon everything was ready and finally the great day arrived. The morning was normal. We worked on the Squadron, returned for dinner, and then changed into best blue. I went to the village and found my brother who had come for the occasion. Back at Marham we formed up outside the stores, were joined by the band and Guard of Honour. Then, with the CO and Colour Party leading, we marched into the hangar. It went like clockwork as far as we were concerned, but the Colour Party got out of step. I heard later that the Guard of Honour put in hours of extra practice as a result of the shambles. "Our final parade was on the Sunday following disbandment. The Squadron Standard was laid up in Ely Cathedral, where it still resides. On Monday morning I went round 214's internal departments, signing off, and finally cycled down the perimeter track past the remaining Victors which looked rather lost and forlorn. Life in the RAF has never since been quite the same." The events which took place on the day of disbandment proved a great success, as Geoff Parnell relates: "The disbandment was a terrific ceremony. Visitors stayed overnight in the Officers' Mess, with wives, mistresses, etc. We paid a fiver each and with this and other subscriptions, the biggest party ever was launched. The ladies had daffodils flown in from the Channel Islands/Scillies to decorate the entrance, which looked marvellous. The food, both in quality and quantity, was beyond description. Champagne flowed in unlimited quantities, and dozens of barrels of beer were supported on wooden trestles and covered with leather ornamental jackets. Thousands of pint pots were on hand, and one simply had to take a fresh pot and keep going all night. There was no need to wash up, and no money changed hands. "Among the visitors were Johnny Biggs, DFC, a three tour man who was with 214 in 1942, and Howie Wing who was there in 1943-44. Howie later served with the police in Kenya, and when he discovered that 214 was operational there, got in touch, made himself known, and flew unofficially on trips against the Mau Mau. Howie and I saw everyone off and were still awake and drinking as dawn broke. We fell in for breakfast and managed to reach Ely for the colour ceremony next day." ╦u"#▌{j ├яВE╤┐V!▐"x$ў$'p(|)p,g.╡/ы0Т1{48¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤╦u■8й;┐=P@мB GъHиJ─MxP?U"Y\\`DeMgOj°kKo╜pэs╩u╦u¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤# 0РА░╨/ ░р=!░p"░а#Ра$Ра%░ [(@ё (NormalCJmH <A@Є б<Default Paragraph Font╦qЁ                    Ы ┬)│8HКWOf╦qче йїй╦ut8╦uuw╦uv689<GIо▒'-и░√&,МПРУЯеnлq═qKk┴lЄlLo╩q═q  Rosaleen Dickson8Macintosh HD:Desktop Folder:Sqyadron 214 Book:Chapter 19 @А╩q╩q▄"╥+╩q╩qJ╦q0@GРTimes New Roman5РАSymbol3Р Arial3РTimes"1И╨h@Вv&AВv&v╘]0Г╚▒е└┤┤А0:s╥  Chapter XIX - The Tanker RoleRosaleen DicksonRosaleen Dickson■  рЕЯЄ∙OhлС+'│┘0ДИР╕─рь№ $ @ L Xdlt|' Chapter XIX - The Tanker RolehapRosaleen Dicksonhe osaNormalnRosaleen Dicksonhe 1saMicrosoft Word 8.0 @@╖14├@NzU4├v╘]■  ╒═╒Ь.УЧ+,∙оD╒═╒Ь.УЧ+,∙оL hp|ДМФ Ьдм┤ ╝ ш'te╚0:sb  Chapter XIX - The Tanker Role TitleШ 6> _PID_GUID'AN{F51AB815-9FCD-11D7-A840-0003930A169C}  !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwx■   z{|}~А■   ВГДЕЖЗИ■   КЛМНОПР■   ¤   ¤   Ф■   ■   ■                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Root Entry         └Fщ└╓х3├ЦА1Table            yWordDocument        %ЁSummaryInformation(    БDocumentSummaryInformation8            ЙCompObj    XObjectPool            щ└╓х3├щ└╓х3├            ■                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           ■      └FMicrosoft Word Document■   NB6WWord.Document.8