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The adage goes, in the military, never volunteer for anything.

So, when the Flight Sergeant came into the crewroom and asked for two volunteers. Some put their hands up, and from the SNCOs my corporal, Dave Jerram, was chosen, and so was I.

Come into my office we were told.

So, we follow the FS into his office, the door was closed OK, you are leaving in the morning, have two weeks kit packed, you are going into Kosovo, or going out to protect the Muslim locals from the Serb majority.

And that was it.

And this is top secret, we must tell no one where we were going, not even our families.

Next morning, at the crack of dawn, because this is the only time the military likes, we were behind the special forces air-framed Hercules, and around the back was a whole load of kit, and a land rover, in which the SAS types were going to spend the flight sleeping in.

The plane was overloaded, and again we got on, jamming ourselves onto the cargo, and held on as the pane taxied and took off, flying to we knew not where.

Where we were going was Brindesi in Italy.

We parked on a far corner of the airfield and a few hire cars were provided for us, and directions to a nearby base called San Vito, which was a telecommunications listening post. We were given one of the new Fiat Opticas, or was it Optmas? Anyway, a huge seven seater, in which we were driven to the American base.

We were given an American issue camp bed, far better than the British issue one, then taken to the high School gym where we were to be billeted. We had $20 a day, which was enough to get ourselves fed in the mess, and that was it.

So, the first night, we were two of over a hundred Army and SAS chaps kipping in the gym, snores echoed around the brick hall.

Next morning after an American breakfast, we went to the airport to arm the aircraft with chaff and flare. This included putting flare in the empennage position in the base of the tail, which needed whoever was going to load it, climbing a rickety A frame ladder whilst carrying the armed block, then when reaching the top step, in a fluid movement standing up and supporting yourself with one hand on the airframe whilst inserting the block into the holder.

In the end, after watching me act like some kind of silent film character, Dave said he would do that position, as he was taller and was slightly easier for him to reach.

And then we were told by the aircrew that the plane would not be disarmed each day, so they would tell us at the end of the day if we were needed to re-arm before the next morning's flight. So, stay where you are and relax.

Though we had no money, and the car was kept at the airport for the crew to return back to base that night.

So, Dave and I spent each day laying in our cots, wandering around the base and whiling away day after day listening to the Chicago breakfast radio show on Voice of America.

We had settled into quite a routine, and if this was war we were having a hell of a time. Heck, we were even being paid more to be able to forgo meals in the mess for pizza at the base BX if we wanted And ice cream too.

And then news came one night that the plane had crashed.

Our plane.

With our friends on board

No one knows what happened, but the plane came down after a combat landing to pull out a team, and hit a wall on take off, the plane came down, but everyone got out, though some were injured.

That night the crew cam back still singed by the fire that happened, and wrapped in emergency blankets and blood-soaked bandages.

Two days later a new plane came, and the pilot came to seek us out. What you guys doing here? As the crew on the other plane had been given a huge married quarter to live in, but left us in the gym with the SAS.

Why don't you come and bunk in the house, you could clean and tidy during the day, we'll bring supplies and have the bbq fired up in the evening.

So, that's what we did. Dave and I shared a bedroom, and when the crew took the plane up, we stayed behind, cleaned, did the washing and got things ready for dinner in the evening, by having the bbq fired up.

We lived like that for ten days, while we spent the days in domestic service, the crew acted like a taxi ferrying VIPs across the Mediterranean to meetings and conferences. Dave and I sat sat in the mess watching the women's world cup, that the USA won, which went down well.

We had been there a month when we were asked if we wanted to stay another month, or go home? A hotel had been sourced in downtown Brindisi, so it would have been a lush life, living there on rates in the big cosmopolitan city.

But we had had enough, let's go home we said.

So, we moved out of the quarter and into a posh hotel near to the harbour, where we spent a couple of hours that last night watching ferries from Turkey coming and going.

After four weeks of living in the gym and the quarter, moving into a four star hotel was something of a sock to the system. Next morning, we boarded the flight back home, another ten hour Hercules flight, with views over Pisa and its leaning tower on the way.

That is my war story. Will not be made into a film.