When one was a baby Flying Officer, ones then "squeeze" was what some years later would be called a "Sloane" - flat in Dolphin Square, mother living in large house in Pimlico etc etc.
One Easter we were invited to Mother's for lunch. As "distressed gentility" Ma had sequentially let the lower storeys of big house, and lived in the top flat. Struggled up the stairs - a lot fitter then! - to be met by imposing large lady (think Margaret Rutherford or Alastair Sim in drag), very much the "galleon in full sail".
Hand crunching handshake with extensive pumping of forearm.
Ma: So you're Teeters eh? (real first name omitted for security purposes!)
Teeters: Mmmmmm (still wincing from broken hand)
Ma: You're a pilot in the RAF aren't you (pause) well, you'll have a gin and tonic then won't you!
No arguments there .........