Page 66 - 1956

The ready-room was hushed• the faces around me were eerie in the
licht reflected from the briefln~ platform. The countenance of the
veterans of many flichts, calm and serene, contrasted noticeably with the fledclincs, who like myself, waited expectantly, and I must admit nervously, for our baptism in actual combat. We are a sharply trained wine of a very important squadron, w1th a fine tradition to uphold. ·our instructors
were flyers who knew their business from A to z. In classrooms and actual traininc flichts, they had communicated to us the skill which had made
them creat, hopinc that we, their followers, could uphold the fine trad- itions which they had set for us.
The low buzz of conversation slowly ground into silence as our
briefinc officer stepped from his office and walked to the platform. He slowly scrutinized those before him, and then as we newcomers fid~eted uncomfortably under his penetratinc caze, becan to speak. "To the veterans, there is nothinc to be said, for they have proven themselves as flyers worthy of the name." The lecture as we could see now, solely for our benefit, becan: "It is to you new men that I will address niy remarks.
You have been trained to the n'th decree; you are now qualified to fly missions in search of clory for yourself, and your squadron. The honour
of the squadron i-s yours to uphold, so cood luck to you all." With this admonition he switched the map light on. and we c~uld see the territory in whieh our initial raid was to take place. The briefinc officer continued:" "This is the area for tonicht's attack. You should all know the terrain, for you've been over it many times, this sector marked in red••••••(the briefinc went on, concludirtc with) •••••• you will rendevous in G sector at 2200 hours, and to you all, the best of luck."
Here we are at last wincinc our way toward a real live target, the thrill of our first strike only minutes away. The sicnal came from our leader. The tarcet is sichted. My heart comes into my throat, but
honour above all. I lower my nose, and co into a screaminc dive toward
the tarcet which Intelligence has desicnated as mine, our battle cry
rincinc in my ears, "a lucky slap can cause a cap." The tension is terrific. I can make out the tarcet clearly now. There she stands, the fat lady
in the blue shorts, and I must confess, that I am a very, very, frichtened little mosquito. Now to business, so wilco, over and out.
by
Flyinc Officer Roger Mosquito
Unlimited Squadron R.M.A.F.
Love hasn't changed in 2000 years. Greek girls used to sit all evening and listen to a lyre.
Everyone gives pleasure in some way or another, some do it by coming into a room, others by going out.
My mother is always having trouble with my father or the furnace--every time she watches one the other goes out.
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