words written in the bar at Blida by F/O (Jimmy) Driscoll (to the tune of "Lilli Marlene")


Wing Commander Stanbury,        

Wally" Fairy,too,                             

Since we've been at Blida              

We've been chased around by you.    

The Met man's a failure, 

Flying Control's a farce,                   

You can stick your "Stirling" aircraft

Right up your blinkin'  ****    (repeat).

The "Halifax" is the Squadron kite     

We fly them all the time                   

But it's "Wimpys" that we write off    

Two or three at a time,                     

We can prang our "Hally's" everyday,  

But somebody has fixed it,           

There's "Wimpys" in the way.   (rpt)

F/Lt. Garnet, S/Ldr. Mawer               

Everyday in every way                  

They Bitch and bind us more,             

The first one is a "black troop"          

The second is a bore,                      

We've heard about his every "Op"     

Right up to his third tour.      (rpt)

Squadron Leader Welshan,               

He's done his seventh jump,             

Renowned for"Wacko"-fourteen days,  

"Get out you silly chump!"               

Then we have the Adjutant,               

A ground type loyal and true,             

But he wears Aircrew spectacles!      

And thumbs his nose at you.  (rpt)

The bloke that tends our engines,     

His name is "Dinger" Bell,                   

He's supposed to nurse the Merlins,    

He sometimes does it well,              

He waits 'till we're airborne             

Every night,                                    

Then jumps into his camp kit             

And say's " **** Jack,I'm alright"(rpt)

An electrical type is Charlie,              

A funny little man,                          

He drives around the airfield             

In a clapped out German "can"          

He talks in volts and kilowatts,         

And when he's finished doing that     

He tears up water mains.     (rpt)

There's the Radar Expert                  

His name is "Timber" Wood             

He wants to wear a brevy                  

If only the blighter could                   

He's got six operations                     

And forty hours, too                       

We're trying to find a place for him    

In a kiss-poor clapped out crew   (rpt)

Now we have Hudson                         

Just for the "elite"                            

Only Flight Commanders                  

Enjoy this wizzard treat                   

Once we had a "Mozzie"                    

It really was a shame                       

The "Winco" took it to Maison "B"      

And it never came back again   (rpt)

Re the "Stirling" aircraft                     

If you're less than five feet six            

We have a special course for you        

In acrobatic tricks                            

Bags and bags of cushions              

Yards and yards of string                  

But it don't mean a thing                

When you get a starboard swing (rpt)

Oh, back from operations                  

Its Bill Archer that we meet               

He gives us all a cigarette                 

And offers us a seat                         

We say we saw the parachutes       

Around the centre light                     

He grabs his pen,takes down the "gen"

Says"I hope to Christ you're right"(rpt)

Then there are the "Brown" types         

They're down at ISSU (6)                    

They don't seem to like us much         

'Cos we're up to all their tricks            

They really won't believe                    

Our most spectacular feat                   

Airspeed down to ninety-five               

And drop at Jack-all feet.  (rpt)

Then we have the F.A.N.Y.S.               

We're told their blood is blue,             

Some are operational,                        

Some are just "too-too"!! 

This may be false or it may be true,    

But I'd rather have 3 or 4 of them,       

Than spend the night with you (rpt)