Twelve months into my National Service I'd managed to wangle a cushy little berth, in the small refreshment room, set up to supply tea, cakes and cigarettes to resting radar operatives between stints at their screens. I'd go down to the village and play the two shops off against each other, to get the best deal, then sell the goods on to the boys in blue, back up at the station under the hillside. There was a grey area with regards to any profit: was it supposed to go to the Camp Benevolent Fund or to the person who created it? I decided to make a small donation to the Benevolent fund occasionally and use the rest to support the local bookmaker . All went well until this young Pilot Officer arrived, straight from training school, and began to count the takings.
'There's one pound six and nine pence missing'� he said at the end of his first Friday.
I knew about the pound and realised that that thieving swine LAC Radon must have had the other six and nine.
'Are you sure sir?'� I asked all innocent like.
'If it's not back in the tin by Monday morning I'm sending for the MPs'� he barked into my left ear.

Radon had gone up to London, no doubt on strength of his ill-gotten six and nine, and I suspected that Honest Alfie Suggden would be very reluctant to refund any of the pound I'd lost on yesterday's dead cert at Chepstow. So, in desperation, I went looking for Corporal Redmond in B watch, I'd heard he had been known to lend out small amounts at one hundred percent with the option of a broken leg or two in default. The man was built like the proverbial and as he dropped the green back into my trembling mitt, I feared for the state of my government issue underwear.

Monday came and all seemed well, at first, but then the CO summoned me up to his office.
'Pilot Officer Janus says there's a thief amongst us. What are you going to do about it?. I'll tell you what you're going to do'�
I would have liked to have said that the cash was back in the tin and as far I was concerned that was the end of the affair but Squadron Leader Snyder was the sort who not only asked all the questions but insisted on answering them all as well.
'What you'll do is keep these two ten bob notes in your tin, at all times, I've put a secret mark on them'�
'It's a brilliant idea sir'� I said looking at the green spider he'd drawn on the Queen's nose.
'Charlie will never see it, will he?'� he asked ' No never!'� he replied
I could have enquired how he intended tracing the missing note, if it disappeared, but I was a mere SAC and he a Squadron Leader, I knew my place. In any case I'd got an idea.

A few days later, I was delighted to give Snyder the news that his brilliant plan had worked and one of the notes had gone missing. Soon after that Janus was mysteriously posted to Reykjavik on aerial rigging duty and as I lay in the sick bay recovering from the accident with Redmond's lawn mower, I couldn't help the occasional chuckle as I imagined the scene when the unfortunate Janus tried to buy Snyder a drink with the green spidered Ten-bob note that I slipped into his change when he purchased his daily dose of Senior Service .

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