I was just on the sidelines of this one...
About twenty years ago, I did a few weeks work for the Museum of London. It was a small, but challenging, excavation on the Thames foreshore at the Tower of London; a sample trench of a narrow bank of tidal shingle at the river's edge, only accessible by boat at low tide.
Our HQ was one of the small pleasure cruisers that ply the tourist trade on the Thames, hired for the duration and moored out in the river. Every lunchtime, we'd be boated back to base to eat, and one of us would go ashore on a shopping run, keeping in touch with HQ by walkie-talkie.
One lunchtime, towards the end of the dig, our director was required to attend a meeting with some local bigwigs - you know, representatives of the Royal Armouries, the Port of London Authority, the River Police - nobody
really important
. He took his walkie-talkie with him.
When he got to the venue, he put his radio on the table... and forgot to switch it off. Halfway through the meeting, it startles everyone by crackling to life, and over the airwaves comes the following exchange:
"Base to 568, over."
"568 receiving, over"
"568, make that
three Mars Bars please, over"
Apparently, everyone just cracked up
