My first flight from Luton to Hannover on 7 Apr 1973 (18yo) wasn't anything special and i honestly cannot remember anything of it, but 4 days later, from RAF Gutersloh to Aldergrove, Belfast was more memorable. It took place on a Lockheed Hercules where comfort was the least of considerations - think Boneshaker bicycles. It was memorable for 2 reasons; one of the RAF crew invited me to sit on the lowered tailgate with him for a smoke and, despite being terrified of heights, i did so. And, when the plane landed, i was expecting it to be met with a hail of bullets, so i hung back and allowed others to disembark ahead of me. When i didn't hear the bullets, i thought the 'enemy' were waiting for me. Such was the power of one-sided news bulletins i had viewed constantly for almost a year.