You're all talking RECENT times.
In the early 70s, it was normal practice for one or other of the "locals" in Aldergove to put on a barrel on a Friday evening. That was the only time we serving folk saw the civvies of the MU, who would have a couple of pints and then scarper.
On this particular Friday, there was dense fog, and the civvies left early to get home, leaving 72's Det to consume the barrel. There weren't many of us in those days, but it didn't take long.
When the barrel ran dry, the problem was - who would buy the next round? Two Fg Offs decided that one of them would set the ball rolling, and they would race each other to decide. The race was to be starkers in the bar, and the loser would buy. The Boss said "Go" and the race was on.
The race was run and the next round was bought. Both contestants had their drinks as they stood, ie starkers. Gradually, some of their dressed friends slowly moved in on the "winner", picked him up and deposited him in the Ladies Room, where one of our number was entertaining a local lady (subsequently his wife). The naked FO ended up sprawling on the floor, on his back, in front of the pair. He got to his feet, stood to attention and said "I'm terribly sorry", and returned to the bar.
He was ex-Cranwell, Flight Cadet, of course.