Doing powerline inspections in the Blue Mountains of NSW, my normal crew was a front-seat map-reader with all the poles numbered on his map, and a back-seat observer looking for faults, we were just above pole height. On this flight, the dumb fat powerline boss demanded to come along to see how it was done, but I parked him in the rear right of the B206 where he couldn't see much. After an hour or so, as we cruised along a ridge above the wires, DFB shouts, "F**k that was close!"
The rest of us, wondering what DFB was on about, asked "What was close?"
"That jet! It just missed us!"
Yeah, yeah, sure it did, us experts didn't see a thing.
Until the second F-18 scorched across the ridge in front of me.