Stumpys 7D's or the Disgustingly Dirty, Demeted and Derpraved Disco Dancing Demonstration.

We'd been out on the border with the RE's doing a clearance on a car that had been hi-jacked and then dumped blocking the road. It was an obvious come on and the SF had left it to soak for a week or so before we approached it. Me, the RESA and the ATO were following the dog as he cleared an area in an adjacent field. He'd cleared down this hedgerow and I'd stopped him at the end so we could catch up so's I could see him work the next bit.
'Seek on son !' and he did and disappeared round the end of the hedgerow. We followed and as we walked round the corner there he was, not six feet away, standing on top of a three foot square patch of disturbed earth digging furiously with his paws.
'ISS HERE, ISS HERE, !!! AM GONNA FETCH IT, AM GONNA FETCH IT !!' he furiously dug.
A backwards glance at the RESA and the ATO who were legging it back the way we'd come confirmed that they agreed with my take on the situation but the hound was so focussed he ignored my pleas to
'GERROFF THAT YA STUPID WEE CNUT !!'
Reluctant to got forward,I crouched down, tho' what fecking difference it would have made at six feet I don't know, and thought furiously.
Ha ! got it. I whipped out the Browning and with a 'HEY STUMPY !! WASSIS THEN !! ' threw it back the way we'd come.
'HO YA CNUT !! ISSA GUN, ISSA GUN !!' realised the Stump and with a 'AH'LL
FETCH IT, AH'LL FETCH IT !!' he tore passed me after the gat.

I legged it after him, got a lead onto his harness and dragged him, complete with pistol clamped firmly in his jaws, back to where the others had taken cover in a ditch. After I wrestled my, by now doggy slaver covered, pistol off the cnut we watched the ATO do the bizz and dismantle what turned out to be an exceedingly well placed AP mine.

As was normal the ATO kept a sample of the ANFO contained in the thing and decided to dispose of the rest in situ by detonating batches of it in a nearby ditch.

'STAND BY .......FIRING........KA FCUKING BBBOOOOMMMMM !!!!!!'

The ditch erupted in a huge spout and as we lay there cowering with our hands over our heads,we were spattered by clods of mud and ditch water. We all turned startled eyes to the ATO who, standing with a fcuk off big divot on top of his helmet, announced as only these cool, mad feckers can,
'hhhmmm, seemed to have miscalculated that one slightly.'
Mis-fcuking-calculated !??!, I'd sh!t meself for the second time that morning !
After he'd fininshed destroying the ditch I went over to have a look at the pressure plate he'd recovered and kept.
'Lucky it was a dud eh boss ?' I enquired.
'Dud fack all son,' he replied ' if that mutt of yours had been thirty pounds heavier we'd have been mince !'

My shreddies got it for the third time that day !!

TBC

After we'd cleared up we fired back to the RE's place. I should have headed back to my gaff but the guys were c0ck a hoop as this had been the first 'find' of thier tour and they were determined to celebrate and we were invited. After fobbing my boss off with some cack about another search first light or some such, I fed the mutt and settled him in one of the guys rooms and left him chewing thier civvies. I made my entrance into the bar to shouts of,
'HOORAY, HERE'S THE WAGTAIL !!' swiftly followed by 'WHERE'S STUMPY, HE FOUND THE FCUKING THING !!!!' and 'IF HE'S NOT HERE, YOU'RE NOT HERE !!!' They were having none of it. The Stump was thier hero and he was to be at the p!ss up, right reason or none. I gave in, went back up to the room and with a 'That'll teach you, selfish fcuker !' response from the dog took him down to the party. He had a ball, lapping up all the attention from the guys and mine-sweeping the tables. I kept one eye on him tho', knowing what sort of animal he could be a wazz ups.

I don't know how this particular conversation started with one of the RE's ,but the upshot was,
''Of coursh ma frucking' dug can dansh, whashrish ?' and calling the dog over says,
'Dishco danshing shtime boy !'
His wee face would light up and he'd stand with his arrse towards me. I'd reach under him, gripp his knob and gave him a vigerous merchant bank. Once I'd got him started you could let him go and he'd dance around in a circle, ears back, look of oblivious bliss on his face and pump his hips back and forward like a piston !!
'HOORAY !! GO FOR IT STUMPY !!!!!' cheered the boys. And he would. The wee fcuker could get such a tempo going that, after a few seconds ...WOOF !!!..he'd come his duff over the floor to louder cheers of 'FCUKING YEAH, HOORAY, WOOPDY DO etc.'
Having finished his performance Stumpy would give his deposit a wee sniff, look round at the admiring faces and then, usually to cries of
'OOOOEEEUUURRRGGGGHHH !!!' he'd lick the whole fcuking lot up of the floor !!

Aye, he was the star turn that night, the only problem was that for the rest of thier tour, if I did'ny watch the fcukers, these Engineer cnuts would fire the wee t*at up and have him bopping all over the place at every oppertunity and he'd be no more inclinded to work that fly in the air afterwards. The remainer of the tour was puncuated with,
'WHO'S BEEN W*ANKING THE FACKING DOG AGAIN !!!!'
and,
'STOP MOLESTING THE FACKING HOUND YA PERVS !!!'

Facking Engineers ? Facking perverts !!

The dog ? He loved it. Facking tart !!!

Ok A_S make sure you have these tales copyrighted

excellent stuff

Auld_Sapper get yourself a publishing company and write a book , I`d camp out side Smiths for my copy :D

:D Way hay !! Morning all. Glad yur enjoying the tales and thanks for the feed back, but, books ? publishers ? hmmmm, me thinks a few tales about a daft sweaty on the other end of a lead from an epileptic dwarf in the land of bogs is a bit lean on material to fill a book. Unfortunately I fear there's nowt much in my existance that could pad out yer typical squaddie memiors type of publication.
I had a normal unpbringing, no broken home/parental abuse/runaway from home/life of crime. Had an average mil career, did'ny kill anyone/fight in a war/do feck all herioc and did'nt go on to win word peace/invent a cure for aids or shag anyone famous. Nope, these are just stories about a time in my life I really enjoyed and like to share them with folks that appreciate them.
But, anyway, its all academic for I am, in reality, a 27 stone, clinically obese, trans gender lesbian with greasy hair, bad skin, halitosis, body odour and terminal haemoriods, who's only pleasure in life, between bulimic mars bar binges, is to come on military web sites and wind up gullable fackers like you lot !!



Ubique ya bass !!!

AS, don't knock yourself. :D
You could use this forum to generate more ideas, and develop them yourself using your special style.
There's no way that all James Heriott's vet stories happened to him.
Your branding image could be "James Heriott - the Dark Side."

In further attempts of trying to make my in laws dog more like stumpy. I watched the bitch Shit all over my sister inlaws new living room.

Now thats what I call a moving in present
:D

Originally Posted by Timbo

AS, don't knock yourself. :D
You could use this forum to generate more ideas, and develop them yourself using your special style.
There's no way that all James Heriott's vet stories happened to him.
Your branding image could be "James Heriott - the Dark Side."

Don't knock myself !!
Fack me Timbo, at 27 stone & wi' tits that dangle like a spaniels lugs there's no other facker knocking me !!


Ubique ya bass !!!

Originally Posted by SKJOLD

In further attempts of trying to make my in laws dog more like stumpy. I watched the bitch s*** all over my sister inlaws new living room. :D

Fack me SKJOLD, brings back memories of a runny, brown, stinky trail that the Stump left in a Department store in Armagh during a Bombwatch. Started in the Mothercare Department, where I spied what he was about to do and grabbed him by the harness, passed the Waterford Crystal and Ladies Lingerie displays and oot the door via the Bargin Basement where he squatted on the pavement and let out a wet fart as he'd deposited the rest of his skitter throughout the store.

And, if I may be so bold,

I feel that your endevours to 'Stumpify' this hound of yours will only result in failure until you crack some of the basics.

Squaddie dugs ARE squaddies and have to THINK squaddie, therefore you will have to ENLIST it so to speak. EXPOSE it to all the things that MAKE a squaddie a squaddie, drink, hoo-ers, pish ups, skiffing, stupid dares etc. etc.
You should get an Action Man, dress it in a Chav outfit and beat the dog o'er the heed with the thing to get the 'I hate civvies' attitude that is so important. Ye get the picture ?

However, that being said, I feel that even with this type of training you'll ultimately fail because the dug is, unfortunately...















...a feckin GIRL !!!

Originally Posted by Auld_Sapper

:D But, anyway, its all academic for I am, in reality, a 27 stone, clinically obese, trans gender lesbian with greasy hair, bad skin, halitosis, body odour and terminal haemoriods, who's only pleasure in life, between bulimic mars bar binges, is to come on military web sites and wind up gullable fackers like you lot !!



Ubique ya bass !!!

And a Sapper to boot. If it was not for the fact that you tell the most brilliant stories you would not have a lot going for yourself

Thanks for belly laughs, I hope you have a few more stories waiting airing ion ARRSE.

One for the Mods - how about some decent medals for A_S. he is worth it and his posts are worth 3 times everyone else's.

C'mon guys & gals lets get a 'Medals for A-S Campaign' going. Plus, how about a postumous for the glorious Stumpy, the hardest squaddie to serve in the green place.