When i was in the RAF (pulls up sandbag & starts the light swinging ), after an overseas tour, i got the choice of a uk base, i opted for St Mawgan in cornwall (well, coastal command, as it was then, was supposed to be a pretty cushy number, and what's not to like about Cornwall), i was on 3rd line support on Shackletons ... affectionally known as 10 thousands rivets flying in formation.... as an airborne radar/wireless fitter there was very little for me to do, so i took gret delight in helping the engine fitters mucking about with the mighty RR Griffon.
so, in the hangar we had a stores, where all the tools were kept, and a variety of often used parts. Tools had to be booked out, and back in again after use (thus avoiding stuff being left rattling about in the airframe, with the potential for damage & disaster), if you're still with me .... the chap who ran the stores was a Polish Flight Sergeant ... always wore a brown dust coat at work, very unassuming and not very good english.... but i did note that our station C.O. a Group Captain somebody or other used to pop into the hanger for a chat with him now and again.
Then, we were on a Battle of Britain day parade in Newquay, all in our finest, and i saw our Polish Flight Sergeant resplendent with a full set of 'wings' on his chest, and more medals than the rest of the company put together ! ...
turns out he was on 303 (polish) squadron for the best part of 6 years, and one of their top pilots... fantastic.
and all we could offer him after the war was a transfer to the RAF as a Flight Sergeant .... with a job as a storman. .... criminal!