We were each carrying two 100-gallon drop tanks full of water on the outboard pylons. The brief was that, with Paul leading, we would carry out pairs close formation drop of all four tanks simultaneously with me releasing my tanks on Paul’s radio call. We would, of course, carry out a few dummy passes first to get the whole thing sorted out.
Over to the range frequency and contact the range safety officer.
“Here we are, be with you in two minutes to join for live tanking.”
“Er, there is a problem.” responded the officer.
“What kind of problem?”
“Wait till you get here.”
We arrived over the range at 1,500 feet or so to recce
the area and sort out the run-in heading etc, but where was the target? IT HAD GONE. We could not believe it. From overhead it should have stood out like the proverbial dog’s whatnots - but there was nothing in the place it had been the previous night when its wheels had been blown off - and I mean nothing. Not a piece of debris, not a wheel, just nothing except the oldest, tattiest three-ton truck you have ever seen in your life. They had pinched it - Rodney and Del Boy. But how? It had no wheels and weighed 40 tons and it was in the middle of a totally empty desert. There were no wheel, or any other, tracks around the site. It had just been spirited away. We, eventually, decided that about 1,000 of them must have appeared in the night and either cut it up on site or picked it up and made off across the desert with it. There must also have been a rear party to remove all the tracks and signs of any disturbance - most fascinating. The Dubai police were informed and they searched for any sign of the vehicle for some time, at least a couple of weeks, with no luck whatsoever - it had disappeared from the face of the earth.
Still, there was one consolation, the thieves had kept to one part of the bargain - they had left a replacement target - the three-ton truck. Maybe it had just broken down and they would be back for it tonight. Too late. Paul Day and I decided that as we had brought along a pair of tanks each and we did not want to land back with them on, we would utilise the generosity of Rodney and Del Boy - the three-ton truck had to go; and it did. After a couple of dry passes to get the speed and line sorted out, Paul called in “live” for the next pass. On the call of “drop - now” I let them go with a healthy thump from the explosive release units. All four tanks went cleanly and together.
