We model wrecking piste punishers in the Broceliande of Brittany are not the only fly-boys to use the runway and grassland flying areas. The huge area of rough-cut grassland across the army camp road from our runway is not called 'the drop zone' for nothing and on the odd occasion we've had ground towed parachutists drifting about, mostly landing on their feet! At times we've also been forced to give up our home to the girt big, bloated, lolloping thing that is the tethered balloon used by the army camp for field instruction in radio transmission/reception. Only a few weekends ago we had a gaggle of spuaddies wander into the pits and tell us "...you have to stop flying." So what now, then?
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