The Merchantman went sick one night. Bristol Freighter subbed for it and rumbled slowly into the sky. Shortly after, the phone went. Eldery-sounding gentleman:
"I live in Luton and wish to make a complaint about that noisy aircraft that just flew low over my house. What on earth was it?"
"It was a Bristol Freighter"
"Ah, really? How nice, didn't know there were any left. I withdraw my complaint".