I remember a night spent with the Hueymeister carrying out VCPs on the west bank of the Foyle. We had to go to a disused base to pick up the RUC first and the Hueymeister needed to visit the loo - and not for a wee. Unfortunately the place had been flattened, but luckily the last building standing was the toilet block. So down he sits and vacates bowels only to discover no toilet paper! No problem, he spies a couple of sheets of newspaper on the floor and makes appropriate use of them.
Roll on a couple of hours and I notice that he's wriggling about in the RHS as we're tasking - 'what's wrong' - 'oh just a little sore down there'. After a few more hours of writhing around as he flew we got back to base and he shuffled off to examine his backside. It turned out that the paper had been covered in brickdust and the like, and a couple of hours flying had cut his backside to shreds and he was bleeding. Both me and the crewman refused his kind invite to check if he needed to go to the doctor!
