Bob joined the RAF in 1969 as an aircraft electrician. He left in 1991 with the position of Chief Technician. He was an Authorised Person involved in the dismantling of Neatishead, and then stayed there as the bunker tour volunteer co-ordinator. He was at Neatishead for 20 years.
Joining the RAF
I’d like to start back in 1965, when I left Secondary Modern School in Southend-on-Sea. I started work at Thorpe Way golf course as an apprentice greenkeeper, which meant I helped maintain the greens and the fairways. It was enjoyable, but after a few years I started to feel that I wanted to do something more.
In 1968, I had the opportunity to visit an RAF recruitment centre and apply to join the air force, with the initial idea of becoming a mechanical transport driver (MTD). I was accepted for initial assessment, which was carried out in Ipswich, and I underwent various aptitude tests. One of the concerns was my eyesight, but they checked it and it was fine. After having done the assessments, they said I was too clever to be an MTD, which was a surprise at the time. One of the offers that did come up for me was an aircraft electrician. I thought if I’m going to join the air force, it would always be an advantage to work on the aircraft. So, I accepted and duly took the oath, becoming a member of the air force on the 3rd March 1969.
Recruiting at RAF Swinderby
A few days after taking the oath I went up to RAF Swinderby, the recruit station. There we did six weeks of recruiting, which meant learning to be an airman. Part of this was physical training. I was 19 years old, and running around in a gym wasn’t really my cup of tea, but I had to partake. When I was talking to the physical training instructors (PTIs), they realised I’d just done four years at a golf course. RAF Swinderby had a golf course, so I was asked to go have a look at it. I did, and I made various recommendations. I then did no more physical training, for every time I had it the PTIs would take me aside to look after the green. That was quite a perk at the time. Other members of the course were a bit disgruntled, but I passed with flying colours. After six weeks we all paraded and succeeded to move out, and we became leading aircraftsmen.
RAF St Athan and RAF Newton
My first posting was to RAF St Athan in South Glamorgan, into a Third Line Maintenance Unit. My first task in the air force was to service aircraft fuel pumps. It doesn’t sound very grand, but it was a good way to learn the ropes of the job. I did this for a few months.
Then, I went up to RAF Newton to do a six-month mechanics course. Every Friday we used to have a multiple-choice test, which was graded accordingly, and we had to have a minimum of 60 percent to pass. I’d been getting marks of 70-80 percent until one occasion where we were doing power supplies, aircraft generators, and I got something like 40 percent. The Sergeant that was our instructor was very disappointed and surprised that I was so low. And then he realised that I’d received a different paper to everybody else. I wasn’t doing the same exam as the other 11 people. I had to be kept back to retake it, and passed. We went through the six months of instruction, and at the end of it, we got our final certification. To my surprise, my average mark had come out over 75 percent. The two on the course to get the highest marks were guaranteed fitters courses within two years, and I was pleased to find out I was one of them.
Off I went back to RAF St Athan, to the same unit and job, but then I got transferred internally to work on ground equipment. I wasn’t happy about this, as I’d joined to work on the aircraft. I explained this to the Chief Technician and the Flight Sergeant, and when a vacancy came up within the Maintenance Unit hangers to work on the Vulcan Bombers, I was transferred across. I did about six months there, and then was sent back to RAF Newton for a year to do a fitter’s course to become an aircraft instrument fitter. This meant the aircraft instruments that the pilot was looking at were my responsibility. The course had a lot more technical details than the mechanics course, a lot more exams, and it was hard work. But it was rewarding, and I passed.
I went back to St Athan as a Junior Technician. After a while, I was asked to become part of a night shift. There were aircraft fitters that would take various aspects of the aircraft to bits, but they needed someone like me to remove the electrical equipment before they could get to those parts. So, I was working from 4:30pm until 3am, four days a week as required.
This got us to the point in time where Margaret Thatcher and her government decided that airmen should pay for their food and accommodation rather than it being free. This meant that if we wanted to, we could move off the station and live elsewhere. I thought that would be a nice idea, and whilst wandering around in South Wales I came across a sheep farm in a place called Ystradowen. It was a family farm, and I asked if they had a room to rent. We agreed that I would pay £1 a week for accommodation and food, and help them out when I wasn’t at work. That proved quite enjoyable.
RAF Coltishall
In 1977, I got promoted to Corporal, and was posted to RAF Coltishall in Norfolk, to 202 Squadron C-Flight. This was a Whirlwind Helicopter Search and Rescue Unit. I was one of four on a shift looking after the two helicopters, one person of each trade. We were working 24 hours on, 24 hours off, for 14 days. It was a sleeping duty, which meant that when we put the helicopter to bed at night, we could go to bed, but if there was an emergency, we had to get up quick and get it back out there. This happened occasionally, but not often.
One aspect of the job was that if they wanted to practice winching, they would use us. The coastguard used to lower us down over the cliffs at Trimingham. The helicopter would come above us, and put his two wheels on the edge of the cliff to winch us up. All the dust and sand and stone would come down at this point, so you used to hide in the cliff face as much as you could until you got a tap on the shoulder and the winchman was putting the drop around you. I didn’t like that part of the job.
Another thing they’d do was take us out to near Cromer Pier, drop us into the sea, ‘go on, get out.’ We had a dinghy and our own dry suits, and we’d get into the dinghy and wait until they came back to rescue us. This wasn’t too bad, except one day I’d been dropped into the sea and the helicopter disappeared over the coast, headed back over Cromer, and left me in the sea. Like all airmen, we had a radio but ours were voice activated, so if I needed to, I could call on the emergency distress. I was quite happy though, bobbing up and down off the coast, and the coastguard were keeping an eye on me. And then as I was looking out towards Wells, there was a large ship, a tanker, coming towards me. I thought, oh, I hope he can see me, or that someone tells him I’m there. Eventually the second helicopter crew came and picked me up.
I had some interesting times at Coltishall. One year we had very bad snow storms. My wife and I were living off White Woman Lane in Norwich in married quarters, and the road past White Woman Lane towards Coltishall was completely snowed in. Nobody could get anywhere. I got a phone call saying, ‘we’ll come and pick you up, and then you’re coming into work for three days.’ I walked down to the bus shelter by White Woman Lane, which didn’t have houses on the other side of it in those days, it was fields with donkeys. The bus turned up and the driver asked if I wanted a lift. I said, ‘no, I’m waiting for a helicopter.’ He looked at me a bit apprehensive, and at that point the helicopter came over the rugby club and picked me up.
Because the weather was so bad at that time, Neatishead was completely trapped, so we were flying food and personnel in and out. We were supporting everything for them with this routine run. The snow lasted for about a week to ten days, and the lads at Neatishead were starting to get a bit cocky. So, we collected buckets of snowballs, took the windows out on the helicopter, and when we came into Neatishead we were throwing snowballs at them out the helicopter, and they tried to throw back at us.
Eastern Daily Press May 1979
On one other occasion, there was an American fighter jet that had to abort and land in the sea. Both the pilot and navigator ejected, and the helicopter managed to pick them up. The navigator was quite poorly, so they dropped him off at the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital. Then they radioed through to ask for permission to take the pilot back to Wattisham, which was granted. When they got near RAF Wattisham, they radioed the Air Traffic Control Tower to say, ‘we’ve got your pilot. Can we drop him off?’ They said yes and to land in front of the tower. The helicopter had this immersion suit full of polystyrene that they used to use for rescues called Fred. They flew in at eyelevel with the Tower, opened the door and threw Fred out, and said, ‘there’s your pilot,’ and flew away. What they didn’t realise at the time was that the Station Commander was doing an inspection of the Tower. So, they got ordered to land and were reprimanded quite severely, but everyone afterwards thought it quite funny.
RAF Lyneham
They replaced the Whirlwinds with the Sea Kings. At that point, we were asked whether we wanted to cross train on to the Sea Kings or go on to something else. I decided I’d like to go somewhere else. We were given various opportunities to choose from, and I chose RAF Lyneham. I was posted into a section where we did deep strip repairs on the engines. We used to take the aircraft module engines to bits, refurbish them, and from an electrician’s point of view we were looking at all the wiring and related aspects. It was technically experienced, and quite good work. From there, I was asked to move to what they called Brown Team. Now, Brown Team was Second Line servicing of the aircraft, which meant doing periodic inspections and repairs of the aircraft. From that I then moved onto the Flight Line as an electrician. I remember doing one night shift where I was doing a replacement repair on a wing. The wings are where the fuel is, and they have sensors in them to measure the amount of fuel. I fell asleep on this wing whilst working on it, and got rudely woken up. That was just a mistake though. We moved on from that.
Assisting the Falklands
Whilst I was at RAF Lyneham, somebody invaded the Falklands and we were put on alert for going South. We were prepared for this in some sense, as we would go out to support aircraft quite often. If an aircraft had a fault after flying away, we would go and support it, repair it, and bring it back. In the context of that, you could go anywhere in the world but you’d only see the airport.
After three days, we were told to go and support a bridgehead with a Hercules. We took off from Lyneham, going to Dakar in North Africa to refuel, but the Foreign Office was still trying to obtain permission for us to go further. So, we had the choice of going to Cape Town, a sanctioned island, or Montevideo. We all fancied going to Cape Town, but we ended up going to a small, sanctioned island in the South Atlantic which was very rugged, ex-volcanoes, and had one runway. We were there for a month. We had other commitments and used to move around to different things, so we were only allowed to be there for a month at a time.
Visiting Aircraft Support at Aldergrove, Northern Ireland
One of our other commitments was nine weeks in Aldergrove, Northern Ireland, as Visiting Aircraft Support. This meant any aircraft coming into Aldergrove was looked after by us. There’d be two teams of four, with each team consisting of a Corporal and three airmen. One team would be responsible for marshalling the aircraft, and the other would be responsible for prepping it and moving anything inside it in or out. And we’d swap which team was responsible for what around every other day. Because of the nature of Northern Ireland, it was sometimes necessary for the team that wasn’t marshalling to guard the aircraft. We were issued with our weapons, and as the aircraft came to a stop, you’d have one stationed on the nose, one on either wing, and one on the tail. An imaginary door was created which we knew and the visitors in the aircraft knew, and everybody had to use that door as an entrance and exit or they’d be stopped.
Our accommodation was quite poor, but we made the best of it that we could. We were lucky enough that the customs people had a bar in one of the hangers, and we were allowed to use that as and when we liked. But as you were walking down over the airfield, you could quite often hear gunfire in the distance. You just lived with it, and accepted it. You learned to live with a Northern Ireland mentality.
On one evening, I was walking down to the bar with a friend. On an airfield, there’s all these lines that an aircraft can follow, and on one of these lines was a crushed coke can. My friend went to kick it, and at the last moment he lifted his foot over it. When we investigated and reported it, it was discovered it was full of plastic explosive. In that context, I wouldn’t be here doing this interview today if he had kicked it, but he decided at the last second there was something not right. But that’s what it was there for, to cause harm.
On a brighter note, every Wednesday we were allowed to free hire the minibus and go off to various areas of Northern Ireland that were considered safe. We went to the giant causeway and other places. Northern Ireland was a lovely place, and the people were good as well.
RAF Swanton Morley
In 1983, my wife wanted to get in touch with her father, who she’d lost contact with. Which we did, and we came up to Norfolk and presented him with his grandson, who was two at the time. We were looking for a property around Lyneham then, and he was retiring as a teacher at Cromer High School. We were given first refusal to buy his bungalow in North-Norfolk. Eventually we were able to buy it, and that’s 40 years ago now.
My wife and child were up in Norfolk then, at the bungalow, and I was still in Lyneham, so I applied to have a transfer with another Sergeant who was at RAF Swanton Morley. We were going to swap postings. That went through, and then when it got to the August Bank Holiday, I phoned and asked what was going on. They told me the transfer had been cancelled, but I’d gotten posted anyway, which could mean I’d been posted anywhere in the country. Luckily, they said, ‘oh, no, no, you’re going to Swanton Morley. The other Sergeant’s got to stay there.’ So, I got what I wanted, but he didn’t. He wasn’t happy, but he sorted himself eventually.
I went to Swanton Morley, which was a Central Servicing Development Establishment (CSDE). I was in the Supply Services Management Wing (SSMW), where we were procuring the spares for Tornados. We used mathematical models to look at the flying hours and the defect rate of all the equipment, and work out how many spares we needed. At that time, in the early 80s, we were using a Sinclair ZX-81. What a difference to today, how things work.
Munich Procurement Conferences
We were working as part of Panavia and NAMMA, which meant every six weeks as part of the process, we had to go to Munich for five days to do procurement conferences. This meant driving down to Bristol on a Sunday afternoon, picking up the TU aircraft, a private aircraft, from Bristol airport on the lunchtime on the Monday lunchtime, and flying out to Munich. We’d been booked into a hotel. Mondays in Germany are their equivalent to Sundays, the hotels aren’t open, but you could get something to eat at a pub.
It was all landline phones in those days, no mobiles, and I’d wanted to phone my wife to tell her I arrived safely. The lads told me there was a telephone box down by the station, the U-Bahn. So off I went to the telephone box, and it’s all in German, which I didn’t speak at the time. I dialled the number and didn’t get a response, tried again and still didn’t get a response. There was this large green and red handle, and I thought, I wonder if that’s part of it. I operated it, and the phone answered, and I thought, well done! After a few minutes, an ambulance, the police, and fire engines turned up, and the policeman starts banging on the phone box. It turns out the handle calls the emergency services. So that was a baptism of fire, I never did that again.
The conferences were between Germany, Italy, and us, and we’d do the business. There was a flight back on a Thursday, or you could stay until the Friday. We had an officer in charge of us from the Finance Branch, and if he considered it relevant, we could have the Thursday off. We used to go into Munich to go to the Museums or the Bierkellers or wherever. On one occasion we actually caught a coach to Salzburg, and had a trip on the Zuiderzee, and that was very memorable. A very special occasion.
Promotion to Chief Technician
I stayed at Swanton Morley, doing the assessments and keeping myself in good condition as required, and eventually was given permission to go for promotion to Chief Technician. But there was no vacancy for that in the job I was doing, so I had to find one. There was a vacancy in another department in the same building which was buying tools and test equipment for the aircraft. So, I went on to the Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS), the Boeing aircraft that had the radar on top of it. My task was to create the spares for the test equipment to support the aircraft. They were based in Waddington, so I used to go up there and talk to the staff. Historically, they’d always done the job on paper, but things were developing with computers, so I was given the opportunity to do the first ever electronic scaling of tools and test equipment. It was quite a challenge, but it did work, and then everything slowly migrated across to being computer based.
Leaving the Air Force and Starting Civilian Life
In 1991, I finished my time with the air force. It can be quite daunting to move from a military environment to a civilian one. On one occasion, we had a Chief Technician who’d joined as a boy entry that was very concerned about leaving, and three days after he’d been discharged, they realised that he was still there. They had to help him move on. But I was ready to leave, I was ready to start a new adventure. I wanted to get involved in work services in some form, but I didn’t quite understand what, or where. And in the 90s, there was quite a famine on jobs. I had three months off with full pay from the air force to look for employment.
A good friend of mine working at Bacton Gas Terminal made some enquiries, and found me a job driving the dumper truck at Bacton Gas Terminal Trans Co. I was actually getting paid more money to drive that dumper truck than I did when I was a Chief Tech in the air force. Once you’re inside the fence, you know what opportunities are coming up, so I soon moved on to maintaining the actuators that work the gas pipes. But it was only for short periods of time.
My old boss from Swanton Morley was working as quality assurance at AGR Windows in Cringleford, a double-glazing company. He wanted to move on, but he could only do so if he could find a replacement. He asked me if I’d like to give it a go, which I did. Though, there was no southern bypass in those days, so getting across Norwich twice a day during rush hour was difficult.
After a while of doing that job, an opening came up at the Splash in Sheringham. They wanted a Technical Manager to maintain all the boilers and everything. I applied, and was successful, and got the job. I was quite happy doing that, and I did it for a few years. Then, out of the blue, there was a change of contract and I was made redundant. After enquiring after vacancies, I went back to work at the gas site on electrical works, but it was only for a maximum of a year. It was getting near the end of that time, and there was a chap there doing some work on the windows. Talking to him, I learned there was a potential vacancy at Ashford Windows in North Walsham, doing the same job I’d been doing at AGR Windows. I went for an interview, and the Technical Director was an ex-Coltishall Jaguars from the same rank and trade as I was, so we instantly had a repartee. I got the job, and was quite happy there, though the Finance Director and I always clashed. He was tight on his finance. We got there in the end, though.
Anglian Water
At this time, I was registered with agencies for work, and I got a phone call from one agency, asking me to go for an interview on such a such a date. I agreed, and she hung up without telling me anything else. I rang back and said, ‘who have I got to go for an interview with and where.’ It was Anglian Water; they were looking for a commissioning engineer for sewage works and fresh water. I thought that sounded really interesting, so I went for the interview, and was successful, though still as an agency worker. This meant I was working on sewage works and clean water sites throughout North-Norfolk. Mainly I did a lot of work at Cromer. Then we had a large project up at Blakeney and Weybourne, putting in sewage pumping stations and other bits, and I was seriously involved with that.
Our Regional Manager came after me and asked me to help him out with doing electrical perimetry. I think it was a case of nobody else wanting the job. It was the first time I’d ever been involved with perimetry, so I accepted, and they gave me training. The whole concept of it was that hopefully they would bring me on as a full-time employee, since it was a very good job. Unfortunately, one night they got rid of all their agency staff. They had over 700 on the books as agency people, and they cleared them all out in one night because the company was bought by a French company. How they coped I don’t know, but I was one of the ones to go. We had six months’ notice.
Back to Coltishall
This was the late 90s, early 2000s, and at that time we used to get job adverts from the job centre in post offices. I happened to see that there was a work services job available at RAF Coltishall, and I thought I’d apply since I worked there for a few years. When I went to the job centre in North Walsham, one of the staff there was the daughter of one of the chaps I used to go backwards and forwards to Swanton Morley with. She recognised me and phoned up Coltishall saying, ‘you really need to employ this guy.’ That got me an interview at Coltishall, and then I started work on trial as a mechanical and electrical technician.
Part of this involved additional duties for what we called Authorised Persons, AP duties. Each Authorised Person only did three disciplines of AP duties. These included high voltage electrical works, which could be anything over 11,000 volts. All RAF sites have internal switch gear, which they maintain instead of a network maintaining it, so they have staff trained to do that accordingly. Mechanical work was another thing we did, which was looking after the low pressure and high pressure boiler houses. The idea of our role was to safely isolate these pieces of equipment with a safety program, and then issue perimetry to the maintainers to do the work, so we could issue them a safe system of work to carry out their tasks. The other discipline I did was petroleum, because there is lots of fuel on an air force base, and we’d be doing isolations of that. The thing with mechanical and electrical is that you make it safe and inert, the problems gone away. With petroleum, when you put a permit on you open a pipe or a tank, so you’re exposing the product and you’re exposing people to the product. You have to be very careful with it.
Authorised Person at RAF Neatishead
In 2003, there was a suggestion that RAF Neatishead was going to close, or be reduced down to a smaller footprint. The Cold War had finished so they didn’t need it in the same form. The long-term goal was that they wanted to close RAF Coltishall, and they couldn’t close Coltishall without first closing Neatishead. From a work services point of view, they needed an Authorised Person at Neatishead to take it to bits. This meant going there for two to three years and then being made redundant. I volunteered, as we don’t often get the opportunity to take places to bits. Little did I know, I’d then end up staying at Neatishead for 20 years.
I moved into work services at Neatishead, and we were starting to take it apart. We were turning it from a Control and Reporting Centre (CRC) into a Remote Radar Head (RRH). The idea of Neatishead at that time was to support Trimingham and Weybourne. Also, either side of Neatishead village was a transmitter and receiver site for voice communications. It was the air force guys job to look after that equipment, and our job as work services to help them do their job.
Neatishead was operational still when I started there. We used to look after all aspects of it, including the bunker. You couldn’t go into the bunker without being authorised, you had to give them notice and be booked in. But we could go anywhere in the building, whilst the service personnel were only allowed to go to their places of work. They didn’t like us guys going into the Operations Rooms or the sensitive areas, they’d cover the screens and things up when we were around. We weren’t interested, we were there to do a job, but that was their way of doing things.
In Lower Ops, there was a plant room. The building has a lot of compressors and lots of high-pressure air supplies, which was used to operate many of the special doors. We used to have to vent the compressors down because they built up condensation. It was right opposite the door to lower ops, and venting makes quite a lot of noise, so they used to get really twitchy when we were doing it. But we’d have to get permission to do it, and sometimes they’d say yes, sometimes they wouldn’t.
Last Friday of the month was always traditionally the standby generator runs, which were straightforward enough if you could get the permission. The permission was the hardest bit. Annually, we’d shut the building down for annual maintenance. The air force would move out for a weekend, and we’d move in and do whatever needed to be done.
Bunker Tours
In 2005, the site was very reduced down. The bunker was no longer used. The museum was having visitors, and they were looking over the fence and showing an interest in going down to the bunker. I was the key holder of the site, so I was approached and asked if I could take people down there. I ummed and ahhed, thinking maybe. The site then got sold to a developer in Birmingham, a remote landlord, and he asked me to help him out by looking after the site and keeping it safe. I asked his permission to take people into the bunker, and he granted it.
I would turn up at the museum at lunchtime on the second Saturday of the month, which the museum opened on in those days, and take whoever was interested down for a walk round. After a while, out of the blue, the owner didn’t want us to do it anymore, so we stopped for a few years. Then I asked him again, and he said yes, so the tours started up again.
I started getting interest from other people to come and help me, so by default, I ended up as the volunteer co-ordinator for seven or eight volunteers to run bunker tours the second Saturday of every month. It was all word of mouth. We used to encourage people to come into the museum to look around on the Saturday morning, and then in the afternoon we’d pick them up and take them across.
One member of the staff started to get concerned about the liability of us walking from the museum onto private land. It was all getting unnecessarily political, so I locked the gates so nobody could go either way. We revamped ourself, and would meet anyone interested in a tour in the combined mess. Now they had to apply for a visit. They had to go on a unique website, put in an email address, and request to come round. This made it easier to manage the numbers.
We could only take a maximum of 45 people on any Saturday, three groups of 15. We’d take people off, mostly around the bunker but also to explain the aspects of the site, and the whole visit would take around four and a half hours. We were asking for people to drop money into a bucket if they enjoyed it, which we gave to charity.
We kept the bunker and the site as clean as tidy as we possibly could. A local friend from Happisburgh used to keep his Norfolk Longhorn Sheep on the site and they would roam round and keep the grass cut. We used to call them our four-by-four grass cutters.
Blickling Hall
For the last six years, apart from doing the bunker tours at Neatishead, I’d also spent my time weekly at Blickling Hall. I started off in the museum, but didn’t quite gel with that, and got invited to help the book team instead. The long gallery at Blickling has over 9,500 books in it, all from the 1700s and earlier. I was asked to help out with the conditioning inspection and other aspects of looking after those. This proved interesting, and I still do that to this day.
Neatishead Bunker Tours: Covid to closing
Covid came along, and we had to stop the tours. Once Covid restrictions eased off, we were allowed to start taking groups around again, and we decided a group of six was acceptable as that was what the government was allowing. But we needed something better than dropping money in a bucket, so we did a JustGiving page, and that was the best thing we’d ever done. Unbeknown to me, the default JustGiving amount is £30, and we were only asking for £10. People were very generous, and by the time we stopped in 2022, we’d raised over £18,000 for various military charities.
We’d taken thousands of people through the bunker as well, and some of those people were very interesting in their own right. One chap on a private tour was an ex-airmen posted at Neatishead in the 1970s, and he explained to us that he’d had to bury a lot of normal radio valves. He pointed out areas where they would have been. At one point we had a bad storm on site where some of the Conifer trees had fallen over, and I had some additional volunteers with heavy engineering equipment that they wanted to make use of. They cut the trees up for us, and they had many diggers, so we did a time team dig, an exploratory dig to see if we could find these boxes of valves. We never did, unfortunately, but it was worth a look.
Then, eighteen months ago, the site was sold to a new company, the Academy of Robotics, and our tours didn’t mix with what they were doing, so we had to stop. I thought it was time for me to stop as well. I’d got called back to do working at heights throughout East Anglia as an agency person during Covid, but in March 2023, I retired fully.
Thoughts on the future
The other volunteers and I still wanted to do something with the tours, so we decided to develop a virtual walk round. We’ve developed a power point presentation, with the first part being a walk round of the site in virtual with videos and photos and us talking about it, and the second part is a virtual walk round of the bunker in the same way. We’ve done three of these so far this year, where we go off to village halls and talk to groups and show them the virtual tour. We ask for charity donations to support the Samaritans afterwards.
We’re moving on from there. Where the future’s going to go, what I’m going to be involved with, nobody knows, and I’m probably the last person to find out..
Bob Brown talking to WISEArchive on 14th August 2023 at Neatishead.
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