Back in the 1950s, our family holidays were usually in Cornwall. One year (I think it was 1956 or 1957), we had a week in an hotel in Bedruthan Steps....
....which is about a mile from the upwind threshold of St Eval's westerly runway. One night I was in the bedroom which I shared with my brother when a Shacklebomber took off - the growling got louder and louder and LOUDER, then the whole building shook and shuddered as the aircraft went overhead at not a great altitude!
Apologies for the thread drift, but Beags just reminded me of one of my favourite Nimrod stories.
Sunday morning 6am, high summer, not a breath of wind, already 20deg in still air.
Long range ops sortie, max all up weight. Runway 30.
As I peered out my wee AEO's bubble window at the tents in the Trebelzue campsite, about 50 feet below my bum cheeks, wondering at the effect on the eardrums of four Speys at max chat insulated by nothing more than a tent wall and some Cornish morning air, all I could think was...
"morning campers"