Globemeister, we were flying a holiday charter from Tegel to Palma (I think) so full up with German holiday makers. One by one they came up front to take the obligatory snaps of the Flight Deck and thence give way to the next visitor. I noticed though that one chap had hung back, probably about the age I am now, and was looking at the flight instruments. "Excuse me, but is that your Gyro and that one your Kompass (ie German accent)?", he asked. "Yes, are you a pilot?", I replied. "Not now, but many years ago I flew the Emil" "Oh really? (covering up total ignorance of that aircraft)". "Yes, I shoot down 3 Tommies!". Click!. Suddenly the Emil was revealed as the Me109E. "But soon it was my turn and I was shot down" "Oh bad luck (this a little disingenuously), what happened?" "It was a beautiful day, and as I came down by parachute over the Kannel I can see France and England also. From France I see a motor boat coming towards me, but then from England I see one also coming" "Who got to you first?" " Oh that was such a bad day for me!" "Because the English captured you?" "No because the Germans rescued me! I had to go back to the war, and soon we had to go to Russia and spend the rest of the war on the Eastern Front!" I am ashamed to say that I have forgotten his name now, but he must have been both lucky and skilled to have survived the Eastern Front to the end. He also told us that every year in Tegel there was a Luftwaffe reunion to which all pilots of all nations were invited. He was the most charming and modest of men, especially given that he was an ex-fighter pilot (time to get undercover now) and the very antithesis of the Nazi stereotype. If this tale is of any use to you, Globemeister, feel free as they say.