Arrse 1912

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Nugger, Jan 2, 2013.

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  1. Great Britain is the largest entity the planet has ever witnessed, the high-seas belong to Vicky, Rhodesia has more wealth than Bill Gates, we export textiles to the far-east, you have 18 kids and live in squalor in Manchester, but you are a Tommy, an Arrser from 1912, and you re looking forward to the European Championships in World-domination.

    What would have been the thematic then on a "By horse/Automobile delivered Forum"? What would we be talking about then, Mess Dress and Moustaches? Laughing about the Russo-Japan war, Dreadnoughts and Submarines? LOA for the Boer-war?

    Don those Gaiters and give me your best dits
     
  2. This reminds me of the one good thing Tierney ever did on here which was the 1940's Arrse thread.

    I will enjoy the Chelsea Pensioners getting shirty about that new fangled SMLE though.
     
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  3. Who's Vicky?
     
  4. The love that dare not speak its name...
     
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  5. Actually, quite a poignant post Nugger. In 1912 did they have any inkling of the absolute hell that awaited and would consume most of them?

    Do we?
     
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  6. some sticky old bird in Benidorm - does a cabaret act involving razor blades and light bulbs up her clunge. Quite famous for it in fact and has probably been performing nightly since 1912.
     
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  7. Cold_Collation

    Cold_Collation LE Book Reviewer

    It's about time we moved to highly polished black boots - those dubbined brown ones look shite with Service Dress...
     
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  8. Ferkin' Khaki..... what was wrong with red tunics... it was good enough for that Midland Battalion who had that bit of a scrap with the natives at Rourkes Drift... and whilst we're at it, don't forget the Martini Henry would take out the Ottoman Empire just by waving it around a little, none of this 10 round magazine malarky

    Front Rank..... fire


    Middle Rank.... fire

    etc.
     
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  9. I'm so glad I've joined up I now get tinned beef it's lovely. Some of the cooks though are proper scoundrels and violent they arm themselves with kitchen utensils. Why only the other day one of the blighters hit me on the back of the hand with a fish slice shouting 'I say it's only one sausage dear chap, now off to write some poetry with you'.
     
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