I was at Fairford for the Mig + Mig incident, taking a break from getting lost in Albert by being a minder for the press. I was getting some 12 aviation photogs I was given the pleasure of escorting back into the minibus from a predictably tedious shoot on the live side of the airfield when the collision happened and debris started raining down all around. I just had time to observe on the radio to Media Ops that there had been a crash when a little voice screamed over my transmission "Incident, incident, you can't say crash, oh bugger...". The photogs could now all see a years earnings in a day and had fecked off in directions various so I went off after them on a sort of "One Man and His Dog" on performance enhancing chemicals exercise. On my travels I happened across an ex-Sqn mate who was on exchange flying the Belgique Herc, one of our old exchange Belgian Co-pilots and the next variant thereof. Having made a rapid descent from atop a v. shiny (and hence v.slippery) display paint job Albert roof-terrace they were understandably in a state of mild distress. One of the Belgian Co's asked if they could get a ride in my unsurprisingly empty minibus to somewhere quiet and generally untroubled by falling, flaming bits of fuselage. I was happy to oblige but also very re-assured to see him go back onto the now stricken Albert to recover a couple of cases of Belgian Trappist Beer (of about the same abv as a weak scotch). As fine a display of Belgian audacity in the face of adversity as I could ever have hoped for and a taster of the exploits of a man who became another contender for Lyneham’s craziest import.