Many, many good memories of my time in, but sadly they are becoming more and more sparse these days.
I think somebody already said something similar about a Jag, but I will never forget looking behind me on my first GR7 sortie and seeing nothing but wing and those massive intakes. Big smile
30(ish) seconds of fear that turn into relief after the bomb leaves the wing on its way to the bad guys down below. No matter how many times I dropped HE in anger, there was always a great deal of trepidation whilst the bomb was in flight.
Plugging into the tanker at night IMC with flashing fuel cautions...
Cactus Moon
An 8 ship Op launch off the deck in a thunderstorm with huge breakers slamming over the ramp.
But the best feeling of all was way back in 2004 when a huge hairy guy who looked like he hadn't washed in months walked silently into our crewroom in KAF, asked for Devil47, shook my hand and told me his patrol would have been dead had it not been for us. A really humbling moment, and one that still makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck even now.