Whilst feeling my way through the labyrinthine corridors that are the remains of Station 131's 398th Bomb Group Headquarters, I suddenly shone my torch on this poor little sad old hat. Once a gift perhaps - worn often - covered in a dusty, sticky substance and abandoned all alone....sniffle sniffle.....

But now it has been soaked overnight - then put into the washing machine - and it has asked me to tell you all that it is sitting in my study, and is a very happy, clean little hat once more.