Breakfast in the Mess after a night shift on ORP/QRA. A bunch of bleary-eyed, unshaven, scruffy louts being served the most ginormous breakfast by the guys behind the servery, who had gone to enormous lengths to provide the best they could. When the Station was in lock down, lineys were treated with admiration and respect. Even the SWO would look the other way when we were returning to our block.
There was sense of pride that all of our aircraft had been ready to launch if called upon. The ultimate accolade came from an old Chiefy, stating that we were of the same calibre as the guys who kept the Spits, Hurricanes and Lancasters flying during WWII. The Cold War was for real.