Entente Cordial
An epic exercise was held at Evreux when the French C130s said that they would brief the sortie and we could lead it. They would tag on the back.
Well the plan was to arrive at Evreux in small groups of 3 to ease the ATC problem and rendezvous in the town. We arrived as MSP lead in the third wave. The RV was already heaving, and on entry the Rene like patron took our allowances and gave each of us 4 litre bottles of rouge. The sight of S****y S*****n with his head swathed in loo paper bandages bloodstained with wine singing WW1 melodies gave us the clue to drink heavily. The rest of the stream arrived in batches picked up their wine and joined in. I don't remember anybody taking solids during the soiree. I think the patron retired to St Tropez after that evening. The late night trans-hotel migration was like herding cats with many anecdotes unfit for these pages. On hearing that Postman Pat had broken a sink in the hotel we investigated only to find that it was a surplus sink he had found on a building site and wanted to take home but it slipped while he was fumbling for his key.
The unwelcome morning assembly looked like Afghan refugees. The interminable hand drawn French briefing slides drew yawns, snores, and abominable smells. After launching, the gorilla of 15 of us and 2 Frogs bimbled across most of France to the DZ at Causse de Comtal where the infamous climbing DZ saw the march of the MSPs like giant footprints up the hillside, bracketing a corrugated metal citroen bread van as it careered across the drop zone. Once we had tidied up and regrouped the recovery to Lyneham on SKE via Berry Head was a subdued affair, with an even more subdued debrief in STS.
I think that was what started my attack of gout.