Yesterday whilst feeding my 3 month old son, I informed him that unless he could finish his bottle in under 3 seconds, then he would never cut the mustard in a squadron bar, and it got me to reminising about the old bar in Germany. I recalled one evening when it was verboten to leave the bar to use the toilet and instead a bin was placed in the corner as a waz recepticle. Strict rules were placed on swamping, so that all hosing had to be done in a 'little boy wee' stylee. Trousers and undercrackers around the ankles, hips forward and shirt held up to chin level. You should have seen the orderly officer's face when he came round to close the bar and saw five semi-nekid dudes stood around a bin taking a whiz. Obviously the bin got poured over some unfortunate's head at the end of the night. So has anyone else got any top flight bar antics on tap? Freckles anyone? Or even suicide freckles- mouth and eyes open?