Bicester in 1992 for a Projectionist Course. Really useful when you work in Flight Planning that. God only knows why I was sent.
Five days as the only RAF suit on a camp full of the Pioneer Corps. Barracks were straight out of the 1930's, the natives were hostile, the food was not bad but patrolled like the slop jockeys themselves had paid for for it .. "ONE sausage you greed crab ****" .. nice. Room door was kicked in two nights and a black eye gained from being head butted while half asleep. Took my life in my hands just going to the NAAFI for a choclate bar. Then fell foul of the RSM. No clue why, he just beasted me round the square for a bit. Uniform was pressed, shoes shined and beret was on. I think he was bored. Got my own back by zapping the nice shiny guardroom bell with an extremely crude sticker on handing in my bedding. Fatherless wastes of skin, blood and organs the lot of them.
Course was crap too, run by a guy who looked older than time and mumbled and drooled like a drunk toddler.
When I got back to Scampton I later found out that the course was "required" so I could operate the projector in the main briefing room. Which was never used. And on arriving back on the Saturday morning I found that I had to cover for Reds Flight Planning that day and Sunday. And on the Monday Sqn Ldr Ops, who didn't like anyone from north of Watford and especially not Scottish folk like me, tried to charge me for the black eye.