Chivenor:
Phoning the tower from the wireless bay to get a green light to run across the runway, between Hunter four-ships, to get to work at the GCA site.
Stopping in the ejector seat bay to get a whiff of oxygen before running across the runway.
Nicking coal from behind the Airmens' Mess kitchen to keep our pot-bellied stoves going in E-Lines.
The cheap drinks in the bar of the combined mess when the station closed, the first time.
Troodos:
Going to work at Olympus on the back of a three-tonner on the first day of the year of KD dress, whilst wearing a parka and shorts.
Going on a night-ex with the Troodos MRT and ending up getting slaughtered in Sam's bar in Platres, before spending the night sleeping on the ground round the back.
Watching the Gen Office corporal spinning slowly across the MT yard on his back, after slipping on sheet ice.
Watching a fresh-faced Flying Officer's SD cap disappearing towards Morphou Bay just as he had finished telling me to put my beret on when I emerged from the back of a three-tonner, into the teeth of a gale, at Olympus.
The SWO at Akrotiri (Jack Mu**ay) roaring at our clerk, "Compliments Corporal" when he had failed to salute his Adj one December day and receiving the reply, "Why thank you sir, and a Merry Christmas to you too."
Putting on folk concerts at the Sub-Aqua Club at Akrotiri as a fresh-faced youth and 25 years later standing at the same spot as a slightly care-worn Flt Lt RAFVR(T) during annual Cyprus camp.
Whilst undergoing free-fall parachute training at Kingsfield, being told to go on a three-mile run, about two minutes after consuming a Ginsters pasty and a bottle of Seven Up from the Naafi wagon (that was messy
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Egg banjos from Dhekelia in 90 degree heat whilst gliding at Kingsfield.
'Kidnapping' Hillary someone from BFBS for charity when she visited Troodos, phoning BFBS and demanding a ransom to be told "Keep her".