Run Number:

1337 07/07/03

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The Beehive
White Waltham




Piggy Gwen Potty Nutcracker Hashgate Cap’n Haystax Mr & Mrs Blobby Uplift Utopia Chopstix KnackerCatcher Cerberus Premature and Molly the dog HitchHiker Spot Ms. Whiplash Salome BGB C5 Matt SlowSucker Cynthia Stephanie Krystyna John Urine and dog Gnarler Karen PartyAnimal HeyBabe ShutupWally Twanky Christian Fiddler Baldrick Dumper Septic Spex Motox 2Bob Puddleduck PissQuick Glittertits Muff Mrs. Muff TinOpener Lonely and dog Beaver Ben Sonia Paddy Simon Cloggs Cheating FlourPower

The Berkshire Air Ambulance Hash

BH3, in the solid shape of our GM, Foghorn handed a cheque for £306 to our adopted charity The Berkshire Air Ambulance this evening. Their representative told us they had made their 5000th emergency response last weekend. Well done to everyone who has bought raffle tickets and generally contributed. This evening we were Hashing close to White Waltham airfield and BH3 were joined by the ghost of a WW2 pilot…

Hello chaps! Wing Commander Teddy Forthright here. Thought I’d dash off a few thoughts while that Hashgate chappie was looking the other way. Seems I was drifting about near Waltham Airdrome last Monday when I fetched up at The Beehive. Decent pint and a fair selection of skirt so I thought I’d drop in. Place was full of these bally ‘Hashers’. Couldn’t quite make out what they were up to so I thought I’d tag along. They’d all lined up for a photograph by ‘Jock’ Baldrick. He hadn’t quite got the hang of the camera so I had plenty of time to slip in between some attractive totty (Mrs Blobby and Utopia, I believe), twirled up the handlebars and flashed the old pearlies. Next thing I knew, that Foghorn chap told everyone to scramble and mind the ruddy cricket pitch. Chaps and bints took off everywhere although two, Urine and Spex, taxi’d right over the outfield. Pity them when the groundsman sees their skidmarks.

There didn’t seem to be any maps and the only navigation aids were blobs of flour. Not only that but there was very little flying along in formation. I tagged on to the tail of Cerberus as we slipped through a narrow corridor that opened up to a broad vista overlooking Waltham Church. Raw recruit Piggy was doing quite well at this point, throttle full open and flaps wide open. Considering the state of his kite there was hardly a cough from the old engine. Mind you, aces Premature, Fiddler and KnackerCatcher where whizzing about at the front and looking for a dogfight. At least Premature was; he had his dog with him. Hashgate roared across the field after Premature, who had found the long outward flight path, and together they flew down the narrow alley looking for bandits and enjoying the headlong rush. They eventually fetched up at a crossroads and circled idly, waiting for the rest of the wing. C5 cruised into view; and SlowSucker; and Matt. The last two peeled off with Premature and BGB to recce to the left – and disappeared! Hashgate thought he’d follow just in case there’d been a prang. Poor devil nearly ran out of juice chasing the blighters! Eventually caught ‘em up when they wheeled off the beaten track somehow. He called them on the RT (Right Trail); “Silver Fox calling Red Setter. Silver Fox calling Red Setter. Are you receiving me? Over.” “Red Setter to Silver Fox. Receiving you loud and clear. Where the devil have you been? Over.” “Silver Fox to Red Setter. You got off course. Did you get lost old boy? Over.” “Red Setter to Silver Fox. Bollo…”. The rest was lost in a crackle of static as they hedgehopped across a cornfield only to make a dogleg turn back through the woods at the next checkpoint.

The rest of BH3 squadron droned over towards us out of formation and across a huge shortcut which suited Flight Lieutenant Cheating admirably, as he, Pilot Cloggs and ‘Jock’ Baldrick led the wing. There was a bit of to’ing and fro’ing as the flight leaders checked the route. Young pilot Matt and Sergeant ‘Dad’ SlowSucker led the recce until the right heading was found. This turned into another long flight at tree level to avoid bandits at the end of which ‘Dad’ SlowSucker mistook a ‘P’ (‘Planes’ I reckon) for an ‘F’ (‘Fockers’ I should imagine) and the leaders turned back parallel to the oncoming flyers due to hearing their curious ‘On On’ squawking over the RT. We even caught sight of ‘Wishyoud’ ShutupWally blundering through a thicket towards us, having ditched his crate. Poor sap was desperate that nobody noticed so we picked him up when we doubled back across the field. Bit lumpy it was too. Young Cerberus nearly lost her undercarriage as we bounced around looking for take-off. This allowed the slower-engined kites to catch up and we saw ‘Uncle’ Motox, Twanky and Christian pulling hard on their joysticks to get a bit of a lift.

It was a fast fly through a field of corn and another of grass where we met some tail-end charlies, including Spex and HeyBabe, and Piggy, whose engine was just beginning to splutter. We waggled our wings at ‘em and gave the old thumbs-up before bombing into White Waltham by that lovely old pub The Bell. Bit of a navigation disaster here that allowed the rest of the boys (and girls) to catch up while we circled, keeping an eye out for bandits. Uplift landed briefly to ask a couple of yokel lads the way. We eventually sortied it out by taking off down the route that one of the less well-sighted chaps had called as a False. Half way along there we came across a check and Hashgate and Matt took off over a field, scattering sheep as they zoomed past the fourth blob and called out ‘Tally Ho!’ only to find an ‘F’ behind the next stile and the rest of the squadron disappearing over the horizon in the opposite direction. Still, we weren’t far from base now and the thought of a pint gave them wings. They eventually caught up with ‘Dad’ SlowSucker who was streaming along and Hashgate drew alongside. Unfortunately, at that moment, SlowSucker decided to execute a complete Baldrick (dive and looping roll) that caught the tip of Hashgate’s undercarriage and nearly pranged him too. Luckily, SlowSucker got away without bending a wing and carried on bravely to execute a swift fly-past the church again and back in for happy landings by the cricket club.

Must say that the Hash recce was wizard fun and although the squadron lacks discipline, if I was Jerry I wouldn’t want ‘em chasing me. (Mind you, Jerry’s (Potty) usually near the back…)
TTFN. Hashgate.

Down Downs

A curious and worrying exhibition dance led by Nutcracker with Motox and Ms. Whiplash assisting (Legs & Co – I don’t think so) took place before the Downs. Beaver the dog said it all by wandering into the ‘dancers’ in a depressed manner, looking up worriedly and wandering back out again. RA Motox then presented the following :-



Style points

Mrs Blobby, Utopia

Taxi-ing across the cricket pitch
Taking off rather too hurriedly

Fine by the two ladies. The committee member (Spex) heaved hers over HitchHiker


Lost property. A cutesy little fluffy and plastic handbag!!

Downed like a real bloke. Well he had to, didn’t he?


Our visitor from Cambridge

Drained like a true Fenman


An inability to distinguish a ‘P’ from an ‘F’

Reasonable effort with the dregs going over the shoulder


Tonight’s virgin

The lad’s done this before. He’ll make a good Hasher


Attempting to snog Urine (that sounds terrible!). Also awarded a ‘Complete Ar**hole’ certificate

Not too bad for a complete ar**hole

Foghorn Honeymonster

The Hares

Honeymonster only slightly embarrassed the GM with a fast Down

Up and Coming

Run Number


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