Swinderby 1977 I recall being amazed, along with all the other stout english chaps, to discover that the Scots not only had their own banknotes but an entire religion too - the most amazing part was that it seemed to be a bit of a novelty to the RAF, who had (presumably) been dealing with Hibernian gents for the previous 60 years or so.
42 sqn - I held with them for 6 months pre OCU, I learned quite a lot about cooking, so the time was far from wasted. An enduring memory is of a loud groan/cry from the wet sanctuary in the sqn hut, followed by a group of wetmen (mostly of an elderly persuasion) carrying a comrade out of the hut still seated - his back having gone during a JAAC test or similar he was being carried outside. The procession looked rather like a very informal burial party where the recently deceased couldn't be bothered to lie flat.
According to the young* dry contingents' rumour (that instantly sprang to life in the 'drinking coffee' section where I was seated) he was being moved into an outside area so that he and his chums could straighten the chap out, without any of them having to bend too much. I still wonder why the procession took place, rather than (say) simply grabbing each end and pulling sharply.
Although I enjoyed other squadrons later, some of my warmest memories are from that pre-OCU period. I suspect that was largely to do with the large number of older AEOps who had eventually finagled their way down to Cornwall, character by the shedload by any reckoning....you could stand next to one of them in a bar and simply absorb colour by osmosis.
(* Young is a relative term, at 25 or so I was very much the kid that morning).