Two Lads with Spray Cans Give RAF Brize Norton a Jolly Good Redecorating

In a move that could only be described as a cracking bit of British mischief, two pro-Palestinian chaps from the “Palestine Action” gang decided to give RAF Brize Norton, the Royal Air Force’s largest base, a spot of unscheduled interior (and exterior) design. Armed with electric scooters, red spray paint, and a crowbar, they waltzed past the base’s charming 6-foot wooden fence—presumably with a cheery wave to the snoozing guards—and set about giving two Airbus Voyager refuelling jets a bold new look. The result? A £540 million pair of planes turned into what one might call “modern art,” complete with a splash of “Palestinian blood” symbolism and a few dents for good measure.

The duo’s DIY project, which caused an estimated £30 million in damage, has sparked a right kerfuffle, with the RAF fuming, the government tutting, and the great British public wondering if this is terrorism or just a particularly avant-garde episode of Grand Designs.

Terrorism or a Spot of Cheeky Vandalism?

The burning question—aside from why the base’s security is about as robust as a soggy biscuit—is whether this caper qualifies as a terrorist attack. Under the Terrorism Act 2000, you’re in terrorist territory if you’re causing havoc for political reasons and giving the public a proper fright. The Counter Terrorism Policing South East lot are poking around, trying to decide if this was a sinister plot or just two blokes with a grudge and a B&Q shopping spree.

Some, like former Defence Secretary Grant Shapps, are positively apoplectic, banging on about “national security breaches” on X and demanding the culprits be branded terrorists faster than you can say “cuppa.” Others, like Royal Holloway’s counter-terrorism boffin Akil Awan, reckon it’s more naughty than nefarious. “It’s a bit daft, innit? Smashing up planes to make a point, but hardly 9/11,” he told the BBC, probably while sipping a tepid tea. The Home Office, ever the fence-sitter, says they’ll “have a think” about labelling Palestine Action a terror group, which is code for “we’ll faff about until everyone forgets.”

RAF’s Response: A Stiff Upper Lip, Barely

The RAF, bless their cotton socks, are positively livid but trying to keep calm and carry on. “We’re not best pleased with this impromptu redecoration of our rather pricey aircraft,” an RAF spokesperson said, likely through gritted teeth. Engineers are currently scrubbing the spray paint off the Voyagers’ engines, muttering about the audacity of it all. The planes, we’re told, weren’t even involved in any Middle East shenanigans—sorry, Palestine Action, wrong jets, old beans.

The base’s security, manned by the RAF Regiment and Military Provost Guard Service, has been left red-faced (not literally, unlike the planes). Turns out, a 6-foot fence isn’t quite the fortress one might hope for when guarding £2.7 billion worth of kit. “The activists clearly don’t know how we operate,” an RAF bigwig sniffed to Sky News, which is RAF-speak for “how the bloody hell did this happen?”

Government’s Response: Much Ado About Something

Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer took to X to call the incident “a dashed disgrace,” waxing lyrical about our brave armed forces who “risk life and limb while these vandals faff about with paint cans.” He’s ordered a review of military base security, which will probably result in a few more fences and a sternly worded memo. Defence Secretary John Healey, meanwhile, called the stunt “utterly unacceptable,” which is about as scathing as a Brit gets without resorting to sarcasm.

The Home Secretary’s mulling over whether to slap a terror label on Palestine Action, a move backed by some Tory hardliners and the odd far-right X account, but it’s bound to kick up a fuss. After all, nothing says “British democracy” like a good old row about free speech versus national security.

The Gory Details and Aftermath

According to The Times, the dynamic duo used souped-up fire extinguishers to douse the planes in red paint and had a go at the engines and runway with a crowbar, racking up a £30 million repair bill. They scarpered before anyone could say “oi, you lot!”, leaving Thames Valley Police and the counter-terror squad to scratch their heads and wonder how two lads on scooters outfoxed a military base.

Palestine Action claims they were striking a blow against “Britain’s complicity in Middle East war crimes,” but forgot to check if the planes they trashed were actually involved. Spoiler: they weren’t. The Voyagers are for schlepping troops and fuel about, not bombing anyone, making this protest about as effective as shouting at a cloud.

Brize Norton, home to 5,800 military personnel, 300 civilians, and 1,200 contractors, remains the RAF’s pride and joy. The government’s vowed to tighten security and hunt down the culprits, but for now, the base is left licking its wounds—and scrubbing paint off its planes. As for the British public? They’re probably just glad no one’s suggested raising taxes to cover the repair bill.