Many years ago clicker was a civvie member of staff to an ATC unit, on camp at a Norfolk airfield with hounds made of metal and interesting Canberra's with lumps of concrete in the nose.
Being a bit of an anorak I asked if I could take some photo's. Permission was given by station admin with two condition's
1/ Permission to be sought from the Sqdn CO's
2/ Hound servicing unit not to appear in photo's
Next day as I was duty dog and the cadet's have been packed off to Marham I decided to take a walk around with the camera. As I'm walking around the edge of the apron a blue mini, complete with snowdrop and dog stops by me and the following takes place.
"Good morning, who are you?"
"clicker"
"What are you doing?"
"Taking pictures"
"Why?"
"For my own personal collection"
"You can't do that"
"Why?"
"You don't have permission"
At this point clicker hands over notes from Sqdn CO's.
"That's not good enough"
clicker hands over note from station admin.
Snowdrop then gets in van, slams door of mini so hard it almost breaks, shouts at dog and departs. clicker can't stop grinning for the rest of the day.
Well mummy did tell me to answer a policeman directly, truthfully and only give replies to what he's asked about.