My “never to be forgotten memory” of Angus, or rather “Gus” as I have always known him, goes back to 1965.  He had met Mari by then and they wanted a summer holiday before they were officially engaged, but had nothing suitable in mind.  Janice and I suggested they could join us in our small car driving down to Yugoslavia.  We intended to camp and see some of the places I had been to in 1962 when I had gone to see the European games in Belgrade.
Taking two separate tents (approved/accepted by the parents), we had departed in late August and steadily motored there, camping en route.  It had been great fun.  On the way I bought a not so little 3 legged heavy wooden stool to add to our house, which Gus ended up carrying on his lap in the car for the whole of the return journey.   We cut across to the Adriatic coast and pottered back north through various coastal resorts.  Following a slow day in traffic, compounded by a six-car-a-time tiny ferry across the inland lake at Kotor, we eventually found (very late) a campsite that supposedly had some space.  After a 30 minute search in the dark, we found enough room to erect the tents and collapsed, exhausted, into bed.
Our initial sleep was disturbed by a lot of loud voices around our tents and banging on the guy ropes, but we were too tired to care and eventually we slept.  In the morning, we discovered we had settled in the middle of an annexed “Car Park” area created by the neighbouring German contingent – who had been out when we arrived !!   We were being subjected to some sort of harangue in a language none of us spoke, or comprehended,  which drove Gus to go stomping around the area uttering unprintable language and saying many times over  “ Who Won the b*****y war” .   That picture has remained forever in my mind – and I relate it to the fact that he had been middleweight boxing champion at Loughborough and, though gentle,  was not a man to trifle with.  
Rest in peace Gus, you can go camping now wherever you wish.
Barry and Janice Dorn