I remember as a teenager, seeing the Vulcans fly in for the first time. Then for several years afterwards, being woken from my sleep to hear them ‘scramble’ on some NATO exercise or other. It was a scary feeling waiting for them to come back, in case this time it was the real thing.

When I had my own children, they used to see the Vulcans take off from my parents’ back garden – we were right on the flight path then as we still are.

After I left home, my mother started working as a clerical officer at RAF Bawtry in the signals office, so she had first hand experience of the Vulcan, socialising with the crews also, some of whom lived in Bawtry I believe. She was given a Vulcan tie pin, don’t know what that was to commemorate, but I treasure it today and this memory is for her.