Used to hold regular weekend pub atmosphere sessions in our conservatory. The 88 pint barrel, gas and cooler on loan from the POs mess, Yeovilton. I recall one occasion, during a heavy session, Mick heading into the garden to water the grass or wet the fish. Or words similar to that were issued through a toothless mouth. Sometime later, where’s Mick? Think it was Dave Gordon. In search mode. There he was, curled up, asleep in the apple tree.