"In the Royal Navy you have to be one to get one!"
During the Suez Campaign of 1957 (1956?) the RN was very strict on petrol consumption. At RNAS Culdrose one could revel in the vision of the Captain and his acolytes cycle in formation round the airfield during "Captain's Rounds". I believe there was a modified protocol for the saluting of bicycle-borne senior officers: Pedestrian matelots and lesser lights must en passant salute the bicycle-borne, but the bicycle-borne was excused returning the salute. I do think, though, that the b-b had to give an "eyes left" or "eyes right" as appropriate.
All this talk of "PC"! I rose to the height of squadron bicycles officer. At one time the squadron moved and bicycles had to be returned to stores. I issued the order for them all to be returned to my bicycles shed, and so it befell. In the gloom at the back was the remnant of a once-proud bicycle, no wheels, I think. Anyway I had it loaded with the rest and sent off to the stores on a truck ("barge"?). Minutes passed and the telephone rang for S/Lt, as he then was, Davaar.
'Twas Commander (S): "What in H*ll is this?". Briefly put, the RN can LOSE a bicycle ("I've still got to render my A-25"), but, a propos my wreck, it cannot "WIN" or "ENGENDER" a bicycle. "Explain!"
Aha! I held various stores in excess, which I traded with others of my modest rank, and some I kept. No more accounting for excess. Yet another lesson in Naval life.
I also remember at that time looking out the crew-room window (or should that be "scuttle") at a sight passing strange. A running figure appeared far away on the peri-track carrying what appeared to be a wand of some sort, making his way towards our little home-from-home. He eventually arrived with bosom a-heave for breath, and it turned out that he came from some Officer On High, bearing a message for our CO ---- in the cleft or cleave of the cleft or cloven stick that he delivered. Saving power, you see, and someone indulging his boyhood memories of Sanders of the River.