At one place I was at that shall remain nameless I was both the shelter marshall and exercise comms supremo. The shelter was a couple of sheets of poly on sticks just behind a building door with a tray of Fuller's earth on the deck.
Being always struck by the surreal nature of exercises and how two sheets of poly and a tray of dust could save us I could never take it seriously.
COC 'How many men are in your shelter?'
Me '400'
COC 'There are only 60 men on your section'
Me 'I've taken in refugees from neighbouring hamlets who are in need of succour'
COC 'You can't do that'
Me 'I am the Shelter Marshall, giver of life and death'
COC 'Report to me at Endex'
Conners about '75. ORP, Pete V*** and Middy H on cockpit readiness about 0200, sheeting down with rain, me on headset underneath wing. Crew stood down after about half an hour, Pete looks at me after climbing out, thoroughly wet and pissed off and in the most heartfelt way I've ever heard from another human says slowly 'What. A. Way. To. Earn. A. F******. Crust.'