I was actually asleep when the crash happened. I was on gate duty the night before which largley consisted of sitting in the gatehouse drinking RAF Benevolent Fund lager that our squadron had liberated from the tents of the guys who put up the marquees, playing on someone's gamegear, and then playing light sabres with the heavy torches on the roof of everything we could climb on top of when we were meant to be checking that no evil foreign power was invading people's caravans.

Just about remember that para. Mostly my instructions were shouted at me by an evil sergeant, who got his shouted at him by an evil cadet warrant officer, who was banging the sergeant's sister.
( Draconacticus Reject shampoo. Demand real poo!, Thu 15 Sep 2011, 14:44, Reply)