There was a day when I was vectoring a pair of Wattisham 'Nings onto their tanker on Towline 6. Victor was turning at the Southern end of the racetrack, and as he rolled out onto North so did my 'Nings ... A couple of hundred yards behind and 1,000 below. The nicest thing a fighter pilot ever said to me was ... "Contact, Eastern ... You're in the wrong job."
