Time for a chuckle.

Thank you my friends for your understanding, care and humour following yesterday’s Blip. Time to lighten the mood.
The main photo was taken with a Hasselblad by one of our air-crewmen during a patrol over Belfast, 1977. The extra was taken at Ballykelly the following year as I waited for the usual rumpus in Londonderry/Derry/Not Belfast, the other is St Eugene’s Cathedral. During one of these days I was tasked to a very naughty group of men, many of whom were Marines on secondment. We would observe the targets, follow them, and wait for the inevitable. 
I cannot find the pertinent image but if you have seen a picture of the city you may have noticed a large spire to the northern edge of the city centre. This is St Eugenes Roman Catholic Cathedral. My pal that day had in his paws one of the first SLR cameras with auto-wind. You just kept clicking the shutter release and it would keep taking pictures; the special winder mechanism had a large cassette allowing many more than 36 images. My task was to fly to Derry and just wander around. Simples. En-route he disclosed what he couldn’t say on the ground. We were going to be a major evidence provider for an IRA weapon shift. Ooooooo, I love this job! When the time came I flew very very low up the main road from the bus station towards the spire, then slowed back to 60 knots and hammered her around in tight circles over the Cathedral car park. Five men immediately incriminated themselves as they looked up, in their arms were many rifles and machine guns. It is a feature of rotary aircraft that the slapping of blades and roar of a jet engine removes brain functions. Their eyes were on us, ours were on them, the camera was red hot, my friend was whooping with joy……the men were so intent on us they never saw the men in black until they were dropped to the deck by very bone crunching man-handling. All this took place below the height of the spire, just above the level of the main roof and to the distress of the neighbours. Did I mention I loved my job! We won!!!!

During winter, while all you poor civvies shelter in your hovels, burning the furniture to stay warm, we would travel to Norway for real winter training. One particular year my pal Si Capon made the journey on a civvy ferry hired to move 45 Commando to the wastelands around Narvik. His words……..

I was a green sprog at the time waiting for one of the on-board lifts to take me to my accommodation deck. I was standing beside the C.O. and the RSM. 
The lift arrived.
The doors opened.
A naked Marine fell out.
His hands and feet bound together with black duct tape, along with a strip over his mouth.
The CO, the RSM and I stepped over him as though nothing had happened and off we go. 
The memory will stay with me forever.