Had the pleasure of many a few beers with Jack. A few things I will always remember:
First, his dress sense...Jack was subject to regulations that no-one else has ever found. Flying suit, Rank slides optional. Boots, type optional, laces undone. Issue polo-neck optional, normally a Ralph Lauren shirt under the flying suit. Cravat optional extra. Smile and glint, always.
Coffee. Arrive at work. Make coffee, drink half. Leave coffee somewhere 'safe'. Do some work. Make another coffee, drnik half, leave somewhere 'safe'. More work, find first coffee, add another spoon or two, drink half...you get the picture. End of the day, several cups of syrup, all in 'safe' places.
Curry. Phaal. Eat half after night on the lash train, bring in other half for lunch.
I remember being told story about his early days at Yeovilton...someone else might be better placed to elaborate. Young Jack goes out for a night on the lash train several miles from base. Following morning, 10 miles from the base, 20 minutes to Met Brief, stn cdr passes chap wearing something like i've mentioned earlier walking down side of dual carriageway. Pulls up, winds the window down, and without even looking at who the stray is, calls, 'Get in Jack'!
I remember being at a chain 'Old Orleans' or something in York many years ago and Jack was challenged (for literally 10p) to yam the bowl full of condiments sitting on the table....which he does, 'cos after all a challenge is a challenge...Oils, vinegars, sauces etc. A few more beers and strolling back to digs and even the iron stomach of Jack acts up. He wonders into a front garden, leans over and proceeds to ralph condiments over the roses...just as an old lady opens the front door. Jack finishes, wipes his mouth, smiles politely and says 'Wonderful Evening isn't it?'
A true gent. Plied with with brandy sours once in Akrotiri when I went U/S....wearing the same outfit, with the glint and smile, and, no doubt, with a chicken Phaal/Well hot kebab on order....!