That reminds me of diverting into Istres en-route Honington to Deci in '77. My back-seater's O2 hose unknowingly became disconnected, and he became severly anoxic. After landing, the frogs whipped him into sick bay, whilst I was left to turn the aircraft round. That done, I thought I'd better go and see how C-S was doing. Should I have worried - there he was, propped up in bed, supping a nice glass of vin rouge. Well revived, we were then taken to the frog mess for a tasty lunch, washed down with another couple of bottles of the stuff. An hour or so later, we took off and departed low level across the ogg to Sardinia. Way to go!!
How he then almost killed me a few days later with an empty gas bottle on introducing me to Scuba diving is another story.