After reading Ranger Conners accounts of his exploits in Vietnam LINK, I felt inspired. This was the way to go.

The first problem was, what kind of foreign criminals should we call ourselves? Some of the suggestions were interesting; 'The Columbian Drug Barons' had a bit of a ring to it, as did 'The Kenyan Benefit Fraudsters', but as one of the lads had just lost his wallet at the weekend we opted for 'The Ukranian Pickpockets'.

Next was our appearance. DPM was out, as we don't want anyone spotting us to know that we're TA. Looking again to Mr. Conners for inspiration, I rang round to all the lads in the platoon and told them the new dress code; black pyjamas, or tiger stripes. Personally I followed Mr Conners to the letter, and wore my father's old uniform.

Tuesday night I turned up at the TAC early to get everything ready. Unfortunately the first person I met was our PSI, WO2 McGivern.

"What in the name of fcuk are you wearing Sergeant Terrier?"
"It's my father's old uniform" I replied. "I'm proud of my Dad, and I don't care what anyone says, he was the best driver British Rail ever had"
After a few moments of silence he replied "Don't ever let me see you dressed like that here again" and walked off muttering under his breath.


He won't, The Ukranian Pickpockets are trained to be almost invisible.....

As the lads started to trickle in, I could see that they'd had some problems with the pyjamas. It seems that BHS only had a few pairs, and none in black.

One lad, Ukranian Pickpocket 3, had used his initiative and borrowed his girlfriend's Winnie the Pooh nightdress, which even combined with Assault Boots and helmet didn't look even slightly like it was army issue.

Ukranian Pickpocket 6 had borrowed his wife's leopard skin tights, which surpised me somewhat, as I didn't know he was married to Bett Lynch. Perhaps it wasn't tiger stripe, but it was close.......ish.

Slowly the platoon stores started to fill up with blokes (I thought we'd better keep away from the PSI), when suddely I realised something was wrong, and it wasn't just the red and white striped pyjamas. If watching 'The Deer Hunter' had taught me anything, it was the value of headbands.

Luckily, it was the work of but a few minutes to swipe a box of no.2 ties while our QMs back was turned, so before long we were good to go.

Time was getting on, it was nearly quarter past seven, and the bar opens at nine thirty! We had to put our new methods into practice in the field........or rather on the waste ground behind the TAC.

I had tried to follow Mr. Conners advice by carrying a pistol instead of a rifle, but the armourer was having none of it.

Luckily I had forseen this slight hiccup, and had been up in the loft earlier to find my trustly old Webley Tempest; calibre .177. I had killed many a cola can with this in my youth, so I felt that by carrying the Webley as well as the stout walking stick recommended by Mr. Conner, I was armed, and prepared to meet any dangers we might face. Before we left I had another surprise for the lads though.

During my expedition to the loft, I had found a box of old compo. This was a Godsend, as it held the solution to another part of our preparation. In Vietnam, the Chinese Bandits added fishheads to their excrement, in order to convince anyone finding it that it was Vietnamese sh1t. I didn't have any fish heads. I did however have pilchards!

Rather than risk that in an emergency we wouldn't have time to add the pilchards to our pile, I suggested that each Ukranian Pickpocket inserted one pilchard anally prior to setting out on a mission. This would also help ensure the elusive Vietnamese odour that we aspired to.

Finally outside the TAC we could start using our new patrolling techniques.

It was a nice sunny evening, and there were a few people out walking their dogs. I could see that they seemed to be taking a bit more notice in us than they usually would.

I suppose it's not every day that 25 men in varying hues of pyjamas and leopard/tiger skin printed garments, one in a Winnie the Pooh nightie, and one dressed as an Engine Driver are to be seen patrolling along carrying assault rifles, so to a certain extent I can understand their interest.

Suddenly Ukranian Pickpocket 5 (our lead scout) dropped down on one knee, and took a pair of binoculars from his webbing. In an instant we were all out of sight, well..........almost. It's really difficult to look like a bush in stripey blue pyjamas.

There was something on the trail up ahead.
"What is it Jones.....er....Ukranian Pickpocket 5?" I asked.
"I'm not sure Serg.....Ukranian Pickpocket 13" he replied.
I began to realise that perhaps some sort of abbreviated form of address might be a good idea for next time.

Slowly, stealthily, we crawled towards the object.

"Good call, Ukranian Pickpocket 5, this'll give me a chance to use my super new Chinese Bandit style luminous ruler"
"Hmmm....18 inches? God it is a big one."
"Erm......turn it over Ukranian Pickpocket 13"

He was right, only seven inches, but still it was quite big. I prodded it gently with my walking stick.

"I'd say German Shepherd, probably today, no earlier than yesterday" I surmised.
"That one over there perhaps?" asked Ukranian Pickpocket 5, pointing at a fat woman and her dog no more than 50 yards away.

The fat woman seemed to be talking excitedly into her mobile, and kept shooting us nervous glances. Suspicious behaviour I thought.

"Keep an eye on her Ukranian Pickpocket 5"

......

Come on give us a bit of feedback before I post the final few installments.

Do you all think that I've finally lost it?

Or is there anyone out there who wants to find out what happens next?

Keep going fella, Im interested to see how the field tests of "Nightie, Pooh, Winnie the" 1 off, pan out. If it all goes well I might ask the boss if I can wear one to work.

Presently the fat woman finished her call and hurried off, glancing back at us every now and then.

As soon as she was out of sight we resumed our patrol. ,

After a few minutes we passed an old pile of builders sand. Just then, I remembered something else about the Chinese Bandits.

"Right lads. Throw away your cleaning kits, we don't need them any more" I ordered.
To be perfectly honest, one or two of the Ukranian Pickpockets seemed reluctant to do so, but after I loaded a dart into the Webley there were no problems. We soon had a pile of cleaning kits next to the sand.
I then instructed that each Ukranian Pickpocket filled one of his map pockets with sand. Since the best way to clean our weapons was with sand and water only, that's what we would do too.

There was a small copse up ahead (there where the glue-sniffers usually hang out), we would call a short halt there for weapon maintenance. Our scouts (Ukranian Pickpocket 5 & 7) recce'd on ahead while we maintained all round defence.

Watching the scouts moving tactically was a joy. I was pleased by the way they melted into the undergrowth like a Tesco bag in a hedgerow. When our platoon commander came back from his leave, he couldn't help but be impressed by the changes that I had wrought.

Once safely in the shelter of the trees, I ordered that the Ukranian Pickpockets should clean their weapons. As per SOPs, one man in each buddy team pulled security while the other pulled back the working parts on his rifle and dropped in a handful of sand, followed by a cupful of water.
Soon all our weapons were thoroughly cleaned 'Chinese Bandit style'.

You are quite entertaining but i must confess.
I do not know what is wrong with you, but it must be very hard to spell, i bet that even your doctor would have trouble writing that one down.
So what happens next.............

RCGJ

Keep going mate.

Quite funny and a good way to kill time in the office!