” You know what, Bob? We’re not flying a helicopter…”
Well, what are we flying?
” A bus. We’re flying a bloody bus. Look at that row of seats aft and tell me we’re not just bus drivers. God, I dread it when school comes back…”
And so it goes in the RAF helicopter trade. RAF Colde Wellcombe is snowed in whenever the flood levels recede or the typhoon stops. Then the Puma is called out to ferry the schoolchildren to the local comprehensive. Only the smallest of the children are shackled to the seats. The rest are controlled by a Snowdrop armed with a steel baton.
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