An old friend of mine died last week, aged 89. He too had been a Spitfire pilot in WW11. Not as famous as Bob Doe, with fewer 'kills' to his name, only 2 he'd admit to and he said they were both lucky. Nevertheless a heroic and interesting character. He had been playing golf twice a week up until a few months ago. He also played snooker every week and was no slouch at that either. He had a humanist funeral, with a white cardboard coffin, on which we were invited to write farewell messages in marker pen. He was played out to the music of 633 Squadron. I was surprised that, with so few of these old boys left now, that there was no representative from the RAF at the funeral. Unless of course his family didn't want that, and perhaps didn't even let the RAF know. Anyway, a moving yet stirring occasion.