I had worked most of the messes in the JHQ area, including the pre and post Churchill era. Some of you may remember "Charlie" the sole pathologist who had been imported from Wegberg. One NYE Charlie had run out of steam, and was taking a short breather in one of the armchairs, resting his eyes and generally unaware of the presence of the rest of us. At this point three very junior Army officers, enjoying their first NYE in the Churchill, considered it would be a jolly good wheeze to move the armchair, plus Charlie, on to the patio via the sliding doors. Bearing in mind it was below freezing out there, I persuaded them to leave him in situ, by asking who would carry out his post mortem if he should perish?