Thank you for the friendly welcome. Purely as a matter of interest, my house is still in the first flush of youth as it was built in 1744. In Penzance I used to live near an inn dating from 1213 where volunteers for the crusades gathered. OK, history lesson over!
It was most undistinguished I assure you! Joined the RAF and started flying training on the Provost T Mk 1 (no, not the Jet Provost although they were coming into service) and then on to the Vampire. Managed a few sorties in the single seaters at armament school, then after wings parade posted on to Hunters but not for too long as I was charged with dangerous flying. I had broken the cardinal rule: Don't Get Caught! I had the prospect of a court martial I couldn't win or to resign, so I chose the latter. I then joined the Army as I had learned the Army Air Corps was expanding. They were unimpressed with someone who knew nothing about the army so I served in the Royal Tank Regt for a while before going into the AAC. My training started all over again, Chipmunk, Hiller 12 and Sioux. My first type after training was the Skeeter (a lovely machine), then the Sioux, Scout, Alouette and Gazelle. I finished my service as an instructor with rapidly greying hair. I retired in 1980, went into the Intelligence services for a few years and then went back to the town of my birth. I've been quietly mouldering away ever since. I'm now a fully qualified ground-gripper with pacifist tendencies. There you are, my life summed up in a paragraph!
Of course you realise now that we'll keep pestering away until you tell us what passed as dangerous back in those heady days...like trying to take a Hunter under a river bridge or such like ?..whatever, I'm sure you had some fun, whatever it was !
Of course you realise now that we'll keep pestering away until you tell us what passed as dangerous back in those heady days...like trying to take a Hunter under a river bridge or such like ?..whatever, I'm sure you had some fun, whatever it was !
...buzzing the tower, inverted, with a pint in one hand and the General's daughter in the other....whilst wearing a pair of pink boxers and a set of waterwings?
Do tell! I'm sure every person on this site (on this planet, for that matter) has a 'what the heck was I thinking' tale or two of immature idiocy under their belt. Lucky's usually start with "Well, after we left the third pub...."