A Guide to RFC terminology courtesy of 'Flight' 14 Feb 1918
Apr 8, 2015 13:31:17 GMT 12
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Post by errolmartyn on Apr 8, 2015 13:31:17 GMT 12
A GUIDE TO THE R.F.C.
By CORPORAL " VEE."
THE following definitions will enable the uninitiated to understand the new language which has grown up with the development of the Royal Flying Corps.
Aerodrome.—This is an illusion. When a pupil makes his first landing the aerodrome is a space of bumpy ground about fifteen yards square. When a mechanic has to start a refractory "prop" on the other side, it is a boundless area of mud and new language.
Aero Engine.—This is a petrol engine, which "cuts out," "konks out," "seizes up," and then goes back to the workshops.
There are two kinds of aero engines—The Gnome and the RAF.
The Gnome is out of date, and the RAF can't help it.
Aeroplane.—Well, if you don't know what an aeroplane is, you had better see one of our latest films in which an early Wright machine carries spy despatches in the present war!
Bumpy.—The air is bumpy, or "perfectly" (you know!) when a pupil side-slips on a bank, or breaks his undercarriage on landing.
"Bobbing."—This means that, if the sergeant-major calls you a special kind of fool, you agree with him, and pick up the cigarette which he dropped while he was paying you compliments.
Camel.—An aerial acrobat, and the salvation of rotaries!
N.B.—The Huns get the "hump" when they see it.
Dual.—A state of complete disagreement between an aviation pupil and his instructor.
Fitter.—A fitter is a man who borrows tools from the riggers. He gets his name from the fact that, he can fit more tools and spare parts in a tool-box than any other member of the R.F.C.
"Hoogeboo," "gauget," and "doings."—These are master words for all men with a limited vocabulary They are applied to anything from a new recruit to a special sighting for a machine gun.
(Some mechanics have been known to resent being called "hoogeboos!")
Longhorn.—Words fail me ! It isn't really a bird-cage and the British Museum isn't large enough to hold it as a relic ; so we'll leave it floating aimlessly in the air. If it can't get down, we'll send the gunner up to shoot it.
Medical Officer.—This gentleman is an uncertain quantity. When you are really "tired." he will prescribe medicine and duty; but when a man wants some time off in order to show his girl round the aerodrome he will send him to bed!
N.C.O.'s.—These are like Shakespeare's first five stages;
The first is the Acting Corporal, "mewling and puking” in the S.M.'s arms.
The next, the Corporal—a man (or boy) of wonderful dignity and expert knowledge. He knows—so there's an end of it!
The third is the Sergeant. He moves in a higher plane, and sits in the stalls. He makes fierce love, and handles treasury notes with a blasé "I've-plenty-more" sort of style, which takes away the breath of the second A.M.'s.
The Flight-Sergeant is an uncomfortable sort of brute. He has reached the stage when he might become a Sergeant-Major, and this is such a disturbing thought to him, that a strong breeze accompanies him wherever he goes.
I'm a bit frightened now! I've reached the Sergeant-Major. He is IT. Everybody laughs at his jokes, and everybody quails at his frown. He feeds on fat chicken — or rather his what-is-it is "with good capon lined" and the CO. has a sneaking fear of him. (I'm switching off here, before I get into trouble.)
"Posh."—-Another word of limitless possibilities. This time descriptive. A "stunt" pilot is "posh;" the latest thing in scouts is "posh"; a floury potato is "posh"; a pretty girl with short skirts and nothing in particular for a blouse, is "posh." (Warning: A corporal is never "posh.")
"Quirk."—A fierce, rakish-looking terror of the air! A dealer of fire, fury and flame! I think that is enough to give you an adequate conception of a "Quirk!"
Rigger.—I am not quite sure whether a rigger is a grease merchant, or second man to a fitter. Of course, he knows a thing or two, and his unerring verdicts about "wash in" and "wash out" (particularly "washout") are quite beyond the ordinary mechanic.
Stores.—A mythical haven of rest for N.C.O.'s. If a sergeant is missing for twenty minutes, he is "at the stores" and the Flight Commander commends him for attention to details! In addition to its capacity as a "legitimate excuse," it also contains spare parts for "Fords," and lots of mysterious people who issue tin-tacks for split-pins!
Errol
By CORPORAL " VEE."
THE following definitions will enable the uninitiated to understand the new language which has grown up with the development of the Royal Flying Corps.
Aerodrome.—This is an illusion. When a pupil makes his first landing the aerodrome is a space of bumpy ground about fifteen yards square. When a mechanic has to start a refractory "prop" on the other side, it is a boundless area of mud and new language.
Aero Engine.—This is a petrol engine, which "cuts out," "konks out," "seizes up," and then goes back to the workshops.
There are two kinds of aero engines—The Gnome and the RAF.
The Gnome is out of date, and the RAF can't help it.
Aeroplane.—Well, if you don't know what an aeroplane is, you had better see one of our latest films in which an early Wright machine carries spy despatches in the present war!
Bumpy.—The air is bumpy, or "perfectly" (you know!) when a pupil side-slips on a bank, or breaks his undercarriage on landing.
"Bobbing."—This means that, if the sergeant-major calls you a special kind of fool, you agree with him, and pick up the cigarette which he dropped while he was paying you compliments.
Camel.—An aerial acrobat, and the salvation of rotaries!
N.B.—The Huns get the "hump" when they see it.
Dual.—A state of complete disagreement between an aviation pupil and his instructor.
Fitter.—A fitter is a man who borrows tools from the riggers. He gets his name from the fact that, he can fit more tools and spare parts in a tool-box than any other member of the R.F.C.
"Hoogeboo," "gauget," and "doings."—These are master words for all men with a limited vocabulary They are applied to anything from a new recruit to a special sighting for a machine gun.
(Some mechanics have been known to resent being called "hoogeboos!")
Longhorn.—Words fail me ! It isn't really a bird-cage and the British Museum isn't large enough to hold it as a relic ; so we'll leave it floating aimlessly in the air. If it can't get down, we'll send the gunner up to shoot it.
Medical Officer.—This gentleman is an uncertain quantity. When you are really "tired." he will prescribe medicine and duty; but when a man wants some time off in order to show his girl round the aerodrome he will send him to bed!
N.C.O.'s.—These are like Shakespeare's first five stages;
The first is the Acting Corporal, "mewling and puking” in the S.M.'s arms.
The next, the Corporal—a man (or boy) of wonderful dignity and expert knowledge. He knows—so there's an end of it!
The third is the Sergeant. He moves in a higher plane, and sits in the stalls. He makes fierce love, and handles treasury notes with a blasé "I've-plenty-more" sort of style, which takes away the breath of the second A.M.'s.
The Flight-Sergeant is an uncomfortable sort of brute. He has reached the stage when he might become a Sergeant-Major, and this is such a disturbing thought to him, that a strong breeze accompanies him wherever he goes.
I'm a bit frightened now! I've reached the Sergeant-Major. He is IT. Everybody laughs at his jokes, and everybody quails at his frown. He feeds on fat chicken — or rather his what-is-it is "with good capon lined" and the CO. has a sneaking fear of him. (I'm switching off here, before I get into trouble.)
"Posh."—-Another word of limitless possibilities. This time descriptive. A "stunt" pilot is "posh;" the latest thing in scouts is "posh"; a floury potato is "posh"; a pretty girl with short skirts and nothing in particular for a blouse, is "posh." (Warning: A corporal is never "posh.")
"Quirk."—A fierce, rakish-looking terror of the air! A dealer of fire, fury and flame! I think that is enough to give you an adequate conception of a "Quirk!"
Rigger.—I am not quite sure whether a rigger is a grease merchant, or second man to a fitter. Of course, he knows a thing or two, and his unerring verdicts about "wash in" and "wash out" (particularly "washout") are quite beyond the ordinary mechanic.
Stores.—A mythical haven of rest for N.C.O.'s. If a sergeant is missing for twenty minutes, he is "at the stores" and the Flight Commander commends him for attention to details! In addition to its capacity as a "legitimate excuse," it also contains spare parts for "Fords," and lots of mysterious people who issue tin-tacks for split-pins!
Errol
