Sixty Years Ago, I Could Have Been In The RAF…

It’s true. I’ve got everything you needed to be a fighter pilot in those days. The bravado, the aerial skills, the love for my country, the fitness…

Okay, I don’t really have any of those things. But now that my dad has given me my flying jacket back (it was bought for me many years ago, but I never wore it so he took it off me), I can at least look like one!

Boom boom, chocks away, and all that.

Uncanny, right?

Not only does this jacket transport me into a fictional world where I won the Battle of Britain and saved the world from a Nazi regime, it will also keep me warm in the winter months to come. This is particular importance when you consider my plans to spend January – March in Minnesota, a place where 0’C (freezing point, my Fahrenheit-using friends) is considered ‘bloody toasty’ for half the year (in other words, Minnesota is a damn cold state).

And, as someone who is unaccustomed for snow any heavier than ‘ooh, it goes over my shoes!’ and temperatures where frostbite can actually happen (what, so hiding my hands in my sleeves isn’t going to be enough?), this is my first step towards being prepared for the nasty, freezing cold hellhole I’m going to visit in the early stages of 2014.

Of course, I will need a lot more to survive with all my fingers and toes intact than just my flying jacket. My thin gloves probably won’t suffice, nor will my usual Minnesota attire…

Yeah…that won’t do.

So, lots to think about before I get on that plane. I might have to bring some trousers this time. And some hoodies *sigh* I’m going to have fun packing my suitcase.

Mind you, the way Vanna was talking about it, I should be watching films like The Day After Tomorrow for research purposes because that’s what I’m going to face this January. Honestly, I reckon her scare-mongering would have even put Ranulph Fiennes from going to Minnesota, and he’s been, well, everywhere. If it isn’t the snow, it’s the wind. If it isn’t the wind, it’s the temperatures. And if it isn’t the temperatures, it’s…I zoned off at this point. Dear me. There are people going into war zones who get nagged less than I did when I casually mentioned how I might need some thicker socks. You’d think that, without her help, I would freeze to death like Jack Nicholson in The Shining after the first day. I’m not that bad!

…well, I probably am. But hey, at least in my flying jacket, I’d look good. Preserve me enough, and historians from the future might even think I was from the legendary WWII. I could set their knowledge back for decades, and that would be quite an achievement.

Hmm. Is it worth dying for, however? I’ll have a think and let you know.

Toodle pip!

Alex

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