Ah, Swinderby!
Memories of how you could fly a circuit on smell alone, using the local pig farms to tell you when to turn. "wait for it, wait for it, nearly vomiting? turn now!"
How amusing the RAFP found it when the young officers climbed over the fence having walked back from Lincoln, and how well they reponded to our witty banter.
And the humiliation of 5 Sqn as they were beaten soundly at drinking games one night in Happy Hour by a bunch of spotty faced Pilot Officers (though cannot remember why 5 Sqn were in the bar at Swinderby that night).
And I make absolutely no comment on the 15 year old mess steward girls, none of whom were desperate to snare themselves a pilot and get the hell out of Dodge/Lincolnshire..........