In WW2 my father (RAAF) was attached to an RAF squadron flying Halifax out of Libya, living in the desert. Being from Oz, he didn't have any support in the desert re new uniforms, so after 2 tours they were looking a bit ratty. He had also been promoted from Plt Off to Sqn Ldr in 1 year and earned a DFC.
He was sent to the UK for a break. On landing at the RAF base, the officious little Flt Lt Duty Officer called this scruffy-looking Plt Off to attention and ordered him to go to the equipment store for a fresh kit and report back to him for inspection. Yessir, right away sir, toddles off to the store. Then, fitted out in a fresh uniform with Sqn Ldr stripes he then fronts the Duty Officer, "Well, Flight Lieutenant, did you have something to say to me?" "....ummmm...no sir..."