The memory is a wonderful thing, once stirred by a recollection, others come back unbidden ...
(May I crave a little indulgence by the Mods, this isn't really on topic!)
Another "treat" at our camp at RAF Andover was an unexpected offer from a friendly Squadron Leader for six of us to accompany him on his imminent business trip in a communications Anson to St Eval. We didn't need to be asked twice, we were "in like Flynn" almost before he had settled into the pilot's seat.
It was a lovely summer's day (remember those?), the Annie droned on, and on, and six happy cadets watched the green English countryside drift slowly past for what seemed like hours. Eventually we arrived and landed, our pilot went off for his two-hour meeting, and we tumbled out onto the grass to explore. Feeling very chipper, I said to an "erk" nearby "This is great, I've never been to Cornwall before". "You still haven't, mate, this is Wales!" We were at RAF St Athan, I had mis-heard the Sqd Ldr!
So for the rest of our stay, we indulged in an orgy of aircraft-spotting at what we learned was an important RAF maintenance centre, with Meteors of all marks, Hunters, Javelins, and all manner of other types typical of the 1950's. And yes, there were
Canberras there too!! (Poor attempt at staying on topic.)
