Tony Ware

We have to sadly announce that Tony Ware of 89 Entry (A Sqn) passed away on Saturday, 24th May 2025.

After Cranwell, Tony trained on the Varsity before flying Argosies in Akrotiri in 1967. This was followed by a tour as CFS with the Northumberland UAS flying Chipmunks and Bulldogs. He then went to Church Fenton instructing on Jet Provosts before joining 42 Sqn flying Nimrods, finishing as a Flight Commander. Promotion to Wg Cdr in 1990 saw him posted to Northwood until his retirement.

Tony’s sense of humour (and good fortune) is summed up by the following from his widow Helen:

What has shone through the correspondence I have received, is friends and ex-colleagues remembering him mainly by his smile, his sense of humour and his mischievous pranks!  One that springs to mind happened when he was working in “The Bunker”.  Members of his staff mentioned to him that the Air Vice Marshal always helped himself to biscuits from the communal biscuit tin without replenishing it occasionally.  The following day, Tony took in a plastic pig which grunted when exposed to light and placed it in the tin.  Luckily, when the pig went into action the Air Vice Marshal saw the funny side of it and the next day brought in homemade biscuits for everyone.

Another one mentioned refers to his time at the University Air Squadron in Northumberland.  He was flying in formation with a group of instructors in a very close group when one of his tyres was ripped to shreds by the prop of the plane below him, damaging the prop as well.  Luckily Tony and the other pilot managed to land safely.

He was highly thought of by both students and fellow instructors.

This is from Sqn Ldr Derek J Sharp AFC BSc Dip Comp JP RAF (Retired) and is written for Tony’s wake.

For Tony

Well Tony is now in that aircrew room in the sky, having a cold beer with his old buddies and swopping war stories. There is a lovely song, sung by Dolly Parton & Kenny Rogers ‘You can’t make old friends’

Tony was my oldest & best friend.

He was also my best man. Not just once, but 3 times.

I first met him 59 years ago in the Autumn of ’66 at RAF White Waltham; not far from here. I was a spotty young man. He was dashingly handsome. A graduate of Cranwell.

He followed me to Cyprus on our first tour.

We had rooms in the Bachelor Officers Quarters, next to each other.

We were founder members of the Akrotiri Bad News Society. We drank together, chased ladies together and both of us purchased little Triumph Spitfire sports cars. We were immortal. The world was our oyster; here were two young boys, flying to far off distant lands in antiquated aeroplanes, relying totally on our navigators, map & compass. Today it is all so totally different. But they were such wonderful times.

And of course as we were so incredibly brilliant that we both were sent to the Holy of Holies to train to be flying instructors.

Tony later even trained instructors and afterwards became a Flight commander on the mighty Nimrod.

Our first families were close and we often went on holiday together.

I am godfather to his daughter Tracy.

Much later in life we often flew together in light aeroplanes. Nothing he enjoyed more than aerobatics. Turning upside down; and laughing.

When he told me he had 5 months to live it was as if he was telling me he had won the lottery, such was his jovial attitude. I however was gutted. Sadly, it was not to be that long.

In fact, only a month or so before his devastating news, we joked who would attend the others funeral; well Tony, I won. Not that it pleases me at all.

And now he has gone but certainly never forgotten.

So adieu dear friend; you really have been the best of friends to me and I will sorely miss you. But we had fun, on the ground and in high up above the puffy white clouds. We slipped the surly bonds of Earth and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings. Sunward we climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds,—and done a hundred things that mortals have never dreamt of. Now, dear friend, you can do that all the time; with a different pair of wings.