Cold War recollections from RAF Driffield

Some great stories from the Cold War days at RAF Driffield from Dave O'Connell.

Dave kindly gave me permission to re-post here, as his original submission was buried deep in an old comment thread on my Facebook site, and it was too good to miss.

Thor missile ready for test launch at Vandenberg Air Force Base

 I was stationed at RAF Driffield from Dec 1960 until Aug 1963 when it was a Bomber Command Unit housing Thor nuclear missiles. The missile silo at RAF Driffield was across the airfield away from the buildings. There were also four other missile sites under the control of RAF Driffield - at Breighton, Catfoss, Full Sutton and Carnaby, spread out so that hopefully they wouldn’t all be taken out before our salvo went on its way.  

I have seen a couple of entries on the site relating to those times. One from Charlie Ross who was there at the same time. Can’t remember Charlie but bound to have come across him as I was in Pay Accounts and we got to know most people through pay parades, etc. I remember a C/T Kennedy also, probably Ray Kennedy’s dad, but didn’t know him as I was only a spotty SAC at the time. But as he worked at Breighton, one of the missile sites, I would probably have met him on our visits there to pay the troops. One of our duties was as a Cash Guard for our boss whilst he collected the troops wages from the bank. The bank was not far from the Keys. A couple of us bods were equipped with a policeman’s truncheon, secreted up our sleeves. One accompanied the boss into the bank and one, usually me, stationed outside to fight off any of the Kray gang who tried it on as the boss appeared. Fortunately, they never dared.

Some of the technicians had a trip to Vandenburg Air Force base in the USA to test fire a Thor and benefit from the experience. The Thor had a mixed reputation for successful launching so I’m not sure whether they gained that experience. However, the otherwise general experience of the visit was enjoyed by all.

Apart from my main job I was a member of the Emergency Decontamination Team. In the event of a call-out our role was to collect the decontam van from MT and park up on the edge of the airfield near the sports hangar (No 1?) complete in white coveralls and masks. In the event of an accident on the missile site, anyone who might be contaminated hot footed it to our van. There they were scanned with a hand-held radiation dosimeter. If positive they stripped off naked and entered the van at one end into a row of showers (freezing cold of course, “what do you think this is?”), washed themselves thoroughly and left through a door at the other end. There they were scanned again. If still positive, back into the showers. If clear they were given a lovely pair of RAF overalls and sent on their way. Privacy? That was right out of the window. We were called out for real one day by a worrying accident when there was a bad leak of liquid oxygen in the missile silo. I don’t know the full details but it was a very dangerous situation, fortunately brought under control by the boys on the ground and the RAF firemen. When the alarm went off on the Tannoy that was a ‘drop everything and go’ moment. Of course, we were there basically in the event of an accident rather than a nuclear strike. In the latter instance our little van would have struggled a bit. The Cuban missile crisis in 1962 caused some consternation of course as we were on high alert the whole time and it caused some cancelled weekends at home as we were confined to camp.

I recall a few nights out on Crash Guard on the moors near Thixendale (1961? I’m sure the aircraft historians among you can confirm). It happened as the result of a Hunter aircraft crash. The pilot had bailed out and fortunately was ok but a squad of us was dispatched to guard the bits and pieces of wreckage. After a couple of days some techies arrived (from Leconfield?) and took away the bits that interested them – weapons, instruments and lots of ammunition scattered over the hillside, and we were eventually stood down when someone remembered we were still out there. We had an MT driver and landrover with us which came in very handy transporting a few bottles of beer from a local pub up to the hillside.

I also remember and loved the Starlight Club & Bowling Alley, provided by our American friends. There was a thriving Station bowling league. The Americans initially dominated that of course but it produced some excellent RAF and local civvy bowlers too, capable of getting a 280/290 score occasionally. Another of my hobbies was basketball and RAF Driffield had a team in the local league. Our captain was an American, John Hanson, played for us and did us the world of good. Some of the opposition were less than impressed.

I shared a room in one of the H Blocks with 20 odd others so privacy wasn’t a big concern in those days. Card games of all description were the big thing at the time. On a table in the middle of the room with a crowd round it. I seem to remember ‘Hunt the Lady’ was a favourite. My room mates included a Cpl Crocker who was the camp postman – yes, they did have RAF postmen in those days.  

At Driffield I competed in the sprints on sports day on a track that was marked out on the grass at the edge of the airfield by the PTIs. It was quite a well-attended affair for which we were given the afternoon off and they did print out a programme of events with competitor’s names, etc. I noticed in my events, the 100 and 220 yards as it was then, that the RAF Driffield record for the events was held by an LAC Segal of 10 point something for the 100 and 21.6 for the 220. Amazing, considering the rough old grass track. I later discovered that LAC Segal was David Segal, an excellent British athlete and Olympian, no doubt doing his National Service. As far as I can tell, he’s still alive in the USA. My times weren’t quite so fast!

My time at Driffield was brilliant. It was a great part of the country and the local people were also great – despite the odd punch up between locals and RAF! Those things generally happen in an area that is close to a military base. But it was all done and dusted and then forgotten and everyone got on fine Many of us developed lasting friendships with local people, both male and female. I went out for a short time with a lovely girl from Hutton Cranswick called Clare. Unfortunately, in their wisdom, the RAF decided to send me to Aden for two years and we lost touch. On our time off we usually walked into town and headed for the Bell or the Keys where there were some good music nights. When the pubs closed it was all pile into the Zanzibar café round the corner from the Keys on Mill St. Looking on Google Maps it looks like the Zanzibar is now either the Pizza shop or Wooley and Parks. Delicious egg and bacon sandwiches after a few pints – unbeatable! And in those days they opened until midnight or later (maybe a bit too scary for that these days).

One of your correspondents said “RAF Driffield and the town would forever be in his heart and soul.” Mine too.