Originally Posted by Themanwho

What about the squaddie's wife mit rugrat down town in Celle / Fally / Paderborn / anywhere boxy, who gives her little darling a clip round the ear when he's acting up.

Some local comes up saying " In Zis country, ve do nott harm our kindern", to which the munter replies:

"Aye pet and in wor country we divven't gas wor jews, now f*ck off".

First time I heard this I wet myself; even now it raises a chuckle!

True. RHF or Black Watch, 1985, from one of those barracks out in the unfashionable suburbs. It made the Berliner Zeitung.

Theres a good on that 2 guys from a regiment get filled in by pikeys. The RSM gets the regiment on parade let officers and sends the guys down town to get some revenge.

I think that one is based on the true case of a certain Fd Regt RA in Osnabruck...one of the boys gets cut by a turk in a bar downtown so the BSM sends his lads out to regain the edge. Unfortunately they get over enthusiastic and drop a VW Golf on Abdul's napper. Careers are last seen winging their way out the exit!!

That goes back to Cyprus, and specifically Famagusta, late 1950s, when two WO's and Sgt's wives from the Scots Regiment in the TAOR were killed by the Greek insurgents of the day, in a particularly barbaric act. The Regiment, under the RSM, I believe, made sure that the residents of Famagusta regretted the decision of EOKA to carry out that attack.

Originally Posted by Dread

"i was base commander in Middletown/Keady/a tower in the late 90's. Those who have been there since the rebuild will know it as a motar cube with massive blast doors and a small ops room. One day I woke early and decided to take over my watch about 30 mins early, thus allowing Bdr S to do some personal admin before breakfast. Noone else was up and about (we had been out on patrols) and breakfast wasnt for another 90 mins.

I opened the door of the ops room to discover Bdr S on his knees with his trousers round his ankles. his c*** was looking rather angry and licking it with enthusiasm was the camp mascot: a small terrier called 'tripod' (as it had lost a leg in an argument with a car). The dirty cnut had smeared marmite all over his knob. Stories here then differ with the person going away and coming back in 5 minutes and pretending nothing had happened to ending with the offending pervert being kicked out the army."

Just for interest :Middletown. Tripods still there alive and kicking. Saw him last Thursday.

If you don't rip the plastic square from inside the beret, you will go bald...

Originally Posted by Bossdog

Originally Posted by Dread

"i was base commander in Middletown/Keady/a tower in the late 90's. Those who have been there since the rebuild will know it as a motar cube with massive blast doors and a small ops room. One day I woke early and decided to take over my watch about 30 mins early, thus allowing Bdr S to do some personal admin before breakfast. Noone else was up and about (we had been out on patrols) and breakfast wasnt for another 90 mins.

I opened the door of the ops room to discover Bdr S on his knees with his trousers round his ankles. his c*** was looking rather angry and licking it with enthusiasm was the camp mascot: a small terrier called 'tripod' (as it had lost a leg in an argument with a car). The dirty cnut had smeared marmite all over his knob. Stories here then differ with the person going away and coming back in 5 minutes and pretending nothing had happened to ending with the offending pervert being kicked o. Working on it.ut the army."

Just for interest :Middletown. Tripods still there alive and kicking. Saw him last Thursday.

Off- topic but on Middletown. The rivalry between Keady and Middletown reached a peak when the Middletown Chicken (She Who Provided the Egg) was discovered to be missing and a Polaroid of the poor dear was delivered to the OC M'town Coy next day by a Disinterested Party. It showed her lashed to a stake in an anonymous field with a sign hung around her neck: "A Stilton or she Gets It". I don't remember the outcome, but her eventual demise involved basting. The tale of the Dhekelia Pig, like the tale of the Middletown RMP Shaven Lady in the Swamp need good homes on other threads. Working on it.

Talking about the sunken tank .Heard a story about a warrior that drove through a puddle in basra which turned out to
a lot deeper result one drowned warrior made me laugh . Guess if it was real someone would have taken a pic .

Why are they called 'Army Urban Myths' ? when most of them ain't 'Urban'

Why not just 'Army Myths'

Just Asking............ Or is that another Myth?

The one I heard about drowned warrior was with the RHF on the first Uhlan Eagle. Driving across the area using a GPS as guide and ignoring the map, and specifically the big blue blob in the middle of their route.

Sgt, why are my feet getting wet?

Glug, glug, glug

My Mate Mally (he may become familiar) we were in IJLB together, his idea of being a mucker was to scratch my name on his graffitti. Yorkshire Tw*t! His dad left a centurion in Korea and went to the Dog in a bread roll or whatever the Korean pub was called and lo when they returned it had gone, many years ago now but I cant remember if Tp sgt had been sleeping under it!

and that Belsen wasn't a death camp and therefore there was no harvesting of teeth etc,


WTF was it then??

Did anyone else ever hear the tale of the fiery pig, or did I dream it?

Some unit in Germany in the 70's, with a view to a BBQ, decide to trap a wild boar in the forest near their barracks.

They dig a 6' deep pit trap on a forest trail, cover it with branches, then retire to await events.

In the middle of the night, much crashing is heard, our heroes run to the pit and shine a torch in. At the bottom is a large, fierce and very grumpy wild boar. Tusks as long as a Gunner's c0ck (about 18"), wild and red of eye, 4' tall at the shoulder.

Truth dawns that, having trapped the beast, they have no way of killing it, short of jumping into the pit and kicking it to death.

Volunteers are not forthcoming . . . . . .

MT Sgt arrives, makes quick combat appreciation and finds solution. He returns shortly with a jerrycan of petrol, which is poured into the pit and a match is thrown in.

An explosion follows, with the pig, blown from the pit by the blast, last seen on fire & running at full tilt through the forest to freedom.

Might be true. Might be bolllocks. Who knows.