RAF FOH

One thing I’ve always hated about living in Norfolk is the disproportionately large number of Air Force bases we have. In my childhood, this hatred was borne from a knowledge that, were those pesky Russians to finally snap and try to wipe out Western civilisation, we’d be pretty high up on their list of targets. In my late teens, I hated the fact that every young woman I met that I found sexually attractive or even remotely interesting was usually hooked up to an airman.
“All the nice girls love a squaddie” my nan used to say. Maybe they do, or maybe all the nice girls like the opportunity to travel to exotic places simply by virtue of marrying the right profession.
Nowadays though, that hatred is firmly rooted in the fact that the RAF are SO BLOODY NOISY.. For the best part of the last 24 hours, they’ve been roaring around our village at a height of 600 feet, and an approximate speed of 210 decibels.
Believe me, I’m a fervent supporter of our Armed Forces, but right now I’m tempted to go online and buy a missile launcher..
I understand that we’re in a time of conflict, and that our pilots need to practise, but I don’t see how flying over the green fields of Norfolk is good preparation for the rocky terrain of Afghanistan, or the desert sands of Iraq.

Someone’s at the door now. It’s probably a shady government representative who is monitoring this posting and is going to send me off to Guantanamo Bay. Or it might be Mr Kemp with the papers.

Hopefully I’ll be back soon

RC 9-4-08
0935 GMT