Page 65 - Demo

63%u201cI have no idea,%u201d I stammered.%u201cThat about sums you up,%u201d he responded. %u201cHow about lunch with the Commandant %u2013 that ring any bells?%u201d he prodded. OMG! I had completely forgotten in the previous euphoria. I tried to explain but I could tell I wasn%u2019t really getting anywhere. %u201cI want you to write a letter of apology,%u201d he said. %u201cNow, what do you think a suitable punishment would be?%u201d%u201cPunishment?%u201d I repeated. (I should have learned my lesson by now, but in many ways, I really did have no idea!) %u201cWhat punishment, sir. It%u2019s not like everyone would skip the lunch if they thought they could get away with it!%u201dApparently that really wasn%u2019t an appropriate response, I realised very soon afterwards. I suffered the indignity of being the first Senior Flight Cadet in living memory to be put on %u2018jankers%u2019, complete with a smart white belt around my %u2018Number 1%u2019 and reporting for inspection three times a day for a fortnight.Of course, I sent an apology, which must have been suitably grovelling. I received a second invitation a few weeks later. This time I was up early, and made sure I was there before 12 o%u2019clock %u2013 about thirty minutes early. But of course, there was to be one more sting in the tail! After I had introduced myself, the Commandant said: %u201cHarris %u2026 ah yes, so pleased you could make it this time.%u201d Boom, boom.Al HarrisPS %u2013 Just to prove I wasn%u2019t making it all up, here is the front page of %u2018The Illustrated London News%u2019, dated March 30, 1968. My apologies, but I cannot discern who the two people inside are, but standing on the wings are (from front centre, clockwise: Martin %u2018Dim%u2019 Jones, Chris Stevens, Cliff Spink, and me)