Are we of the single- and double-winged master race really any better? Every year at the F-4 reunion, held in a pub off Whitehall, after a few sherbets a rousing and tuneless chorus of "The Flag" breaks out.
Thirty years ago, and in context, it was funny: now, sung in public, it makes me cringe. I dread to think what the other people in the pub must think - my only hope is that they don't realise we're all (mainly) ex-servicemen.