When it took only three years from starting training to arriving on a fast jet squadron ....
When you flew 300 hours a year on a fast jet squadron ....
When you flew as low as you could get away with and tried to talk your way out of it if you were caught ....
When there were beers in the crewroom fridge and you could have one once 'the wheels were in the well' of the last take off ....
When there was no smoking within 8 hours of flying or drinking within 50 feet of an aeroplane ....
When you played darts, bridge and 'uckers' in the crewroom ....
When you could be current on 8 or 9 types (in a certain world) ...
When you went to the vault once a month to study your targets knowing that if you had to bomb them for real you would be too far away to make it home ....
When you lost 5 or 6 mates a year in accidents ....
When trust was an admirable quality and 'assurance' was not in the vocabulary ....
When judgement was essential and process was what they did to peas ....
When the 'f' word had four letters not three ...
When flying was dangerous and s*x was safe ....
Why on earth has it taken me so long to find this brilliant thread?!
Amongst the humour and happy memories I have some very poignant and vivid recollections. When your leader crashes, you lead the formation home, go and brief the Station Commander, go to the Mess for the night, launch every serviceable aeroplane the next morning and a week later from a helicopter you drop the wreaths from the memorial service into the sea at the accident lat/long you take away memories that will be with you for ever and which put your life and career into perspective. When 32 years later the person with whom you share an office dies in an accident and you see how differently that is handled you realise how our world has changed.