The Chauffeur
The Royal Green Jackets Association
The Chauffeur 4½ hour journey to a grid reference in the rear end of nowhere in North Wales. Lucky I was never an officer otherwise I would never find it! The roads are empty, so the drive is a dream, and keeping to the speed limits not! If the car had wings it would take off. I’m on the M40 with nothing on the road so briefly take it up to 155mph – and there’s still room for more, but then bottle went so it’s back down to 80, cruise control and sensible head on and we are away. After 2½ hours it’s coffee break time so I pull into the services for a Starbucks. I know its rubbish coffee but needs must. I park the car well out of the way so other drivers don’t scratch it. With a coffee down my neck I stroll out to the car park to find there’s a naffin Micra and a Mini parked either side and I’m in need of a chuffing tin opener to get back inside again. I manage to heave and shimmy my not so slim body back into the driver’s seat, and as the engine roars and gurgles back into life a few heads turn to see where the sudden sound of a thunder storm is coming from but quickly turn to looks of envy as they realise its only me and my flash motor!
Is that my training Sergeant making all that noise? Oh no, not another room inspection! Please oh please not the locker out the window again! As it disappeared out of the window from 3 floors up, it is immediately followed by the crashing sound of metal as it hits the ground – and I instantly wake up! Phew thank goodness for that as I quickly realise it’s only a dream and not 1972, and the horrendous racket which woke me up was only my alarm clock hitting the wall at 3:45 in the morning! Today I’m up early to drive to a place called Llandderfel in North Wales, but not in one of my cars. Today it’s in a clients’ Bentley Continental GTE Limited Edition and made to celebrate the 100 years of Bentley. Lots of wonga as you can imagine (see photo). To keep my client’s identity a secret in the photo the registration plate is not its real one. Although looking at it you might be led to believe it was previously owned by an ex member of the regiment who was a Geordie! Whey eye!
5 miles away from my delivery grid reference I fill the Bentley up and begin to wonder if the car had developed a leak as I watched the chuffin petrol pump clock up just shy of £100 – and that wasn’t even a complete fill from empty! Sitting at the undisclosed destination and now waiting for my client, he sends me a text asking if I’m there. Within 2 minutes of confirming that I was I hear the distinctive sound of a helicopter getting closer. It lands and my client steps out to collect his car keys with a big smile on his face, “You made it on time then?” to which I reply: “Rifleman boss – always on time”.
It’s now 04:30 and dark and as I press the start button the car lights up like bloody Crystal Palace with headlights that are as bright as the ones on the Starship Enterprise! I’m off on my 250 mile and 58
The Royal Green Jackets Association
The Chauffeur
So the question is now – how am I to get back home? Well I ain’t gonna tab it that’s for sure. So it’s into the chopper and quickly settle my backside in my clients recently vacated and still warm seat, strap on a pair of headphones and in seconds we’re airborne on route to Lasham airfield near Alton. As I found out from the pilot Lasham was built in 1942 and was an RAF station in WW2 from which flew Hurricanes, Spitfires and the wooden wonder known as the Mosquito.
the phone in a helicopter. I tell you it doesn’t work so I text her with the ETA of three minutes. Sure enough as we start our decent there she is with the car parked right where we need to land bless her – don’t we just love them to bits? After short car journey home my millionaires adventure for the day was brought back to earth with a lunch of tasty egg banjo’s – mmmm lovely!
Although the aircraft I am in doesn’t quite have the same pedigree as any of those mentioned, the good news is it works! And for a top of the range big blue thing with rotor blades more commonly known as an A Star Airbus H125 it bl***y well should!
Five days later I’m back at Lasham airfield to fly back up the sheep bothering country to collect the car. The pilot informed me that it’s now at a new grid reference close to a small town called Sennybridge and asked if I ever been there. Do bears S**t in the woods I replied and told him all about the wonders of that lovely (not) place.
Although quite a different ride from the canvas seated things I flew around the sky’s in years gone by, it still brought back happy memories of hanging out of a Puma and Wessex with a GPMG. Anyway, that’s another story.
Anyway, because our flight path is so close to the training area we have to obtain clearance to fly anywhere near it. No problem as my pilot tells air traffic control, he has an old soldier on board, and because there is no training happening that day we are given permission to overfly. Now I am not a religious man, but I pray that we don’t have a problem and have to land, and tab it out. Been there and done that too many times in a previous life and don’t fancy it anymore. We eventually land bang on time and my client is there with the car, and still a big smile on his face. I return his smile and think to myself that smile on his face won’t last long when he gets the bill for this job!
Just like my earlier fill-up in the car, this thing is just as thirsty, so we have to stop at Welshpool on route for fuel. I’m informed by the pilot it’s only 21p per litre for aviation fuel at the moment which made me suddenly think of transplanting aero engines into my cars! With both tanks full we are off again. Flight time to Alton 45 minutes or so. On our route back we fly close to RAF Fairford, and their air traffic control informs us that a B52 bomber will be taking off and use a flight path close to us. Didn’t see it which was a bit of a shame. But even so as we fly close to Fairford where we can see 5 other UK based B52s lined up on the runway. FFS their wing-span is wider than a football pitch! They must have known a Rifleman was flying over and were scrambling to get ready just in case of a dust up! Anyway, good to know their on our side.
I jump into the Bentley and he clambers into the helicopter. Me for the long but very comfortable drive back to his mansion in the New Forest and he in the helicopter to wherever millionaires go in their helicopters. All in a day’s work for a chauffeur who briefly lived the life of Jason Statham’s ‘The Mechanic’.
Half hour later my phone rings and it shows it’s the wife calling so I ask the pilot to TURN THE BLOODY FAN OFF as it’s the wife calling, and I can’t hear a thing. Honestly have you ever tried talking on
Tiny Adams Aka The Chauffeur 59