Best Stitch ups, Pranks & Revenge - all threads here please

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by ex-dvr1, Mar 13, 2004.

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  1. what is the best stitch up you have ever done to some one, or had done to you.

    We had a 2lt who joined for exercise once, long time ago.
    We had a weekend rest, typical setting in a German Farmyard with Admin set up in the barn.

    Sgt Maj. wanted to organise a "welcome" for the sprog Rodney, so we set up a bonfire and set alight some old hessian, 2lt comes over to enquire why we were all in coveralls.

    We told him MO had ordered all our kit to be burned due to an out break of scabies!!....

    He went and got all his kit including webbing and threw it on said bonfire.
    we then all went and got changed back into combats etc. he had to stay in coveralls for next 10 days!! Brig thought it was funny! and he got billed for all his kit :D
  2. Not so much a stitch up, more of a cock up.

    Work experience, KRH, Tidworth.

    We were all poking about the Scimitar swivelling the turret, lowering the gun, mock-loading, calling shots..etc.. All good fun for a little fifth-year as we were then.
    Anyway, some chap strolled towards us with some pips and so not knowing much better i ordered C---- M----- to "Fire on the enemy" wheupon he dropped the gun to lowest elevation and swung it hard over to the right. We didn't realise that someone had opened one of the front hatches and as the thing swung right the turret rode up onto the hatch jamming it. They had to call one of the people in overalls to unbolt the hatch and free then gun again.

    C---- M----- managed to break his first tank before his 16th birthday, he wants to join the REME.
  3. Had some Spam officers join us for camp one year and just happened to mention that we were the only Rgt left in the Army List that was still allowed to duel as we never received the banning order due to being on campaign in upper Gwondalaland at the time.

    Ten days later at the Mess dinner there was the staged argument leading to a challenge. The duel was arranged and the protagonists donned groundsheets over their mess kit and chose their weapons (thank God the spams had never seen a paintball gun). They stood back to back - the senior spam panicing badly kept saying that they mustn't be present as they might be a diplomatic incident etc whilst we reassured them it was all perfectly legal and just part of being British. The arrival of the ambulance with it's blue light flashing added to the tension.

    The CO asked them if they wished to apologise and when they said no he gave permission to carry on. Senior spam tried to do a runner but again was blocked, and, as the order was given to carry on one of the other spams fell to his knees and started saying Hail Mary type things (sorry not a RC).

    The two walked ten paces each turned and fired - one hit square on the chest and the other missed (lying twat said deliberately). The guy who was hit went down and the female spam doctor ran forward screaming for stretcher bearers.

    I would like to report that the spams thought the whole thing a huge hoot when they realised that they had been on the wrong end of a huge piss take but they just didn't see the funny side of it, which made it even more hilarious for the rest of us.
  4. D&D cadre in Bulford were informed that a member of the royal family from a 'friendly Arab state' would be taking the final parade. So on the day the lads fell in, marched on the square and awaited the VIP's arrival.

    Five minutes later on drive a couple of shiny black mercs complete with tinted windows, out jump four suited and booted types with sunglasses, all holding their ear pieces (in best bodyguard stylee :lol:) they open the VIPs door and out gets the sheik in full arab gear and up he steps onto the saluting box with the CO, RSM et al.

    The blokes march past in slow and quick time then the VIP inspects them, its about now that one or two of them begin to twig that the VIP is in fact a WO2 who had been on attachment to some middle east country (hence the tan, and arab rig) and had recently rejoined the battalion. He even spoke to a couple of them in pigeon English :lol:

    It wasn't until they came off the square that they were told :lol:
  5. Late 70's, St Angelo.

    The 13th/18th had a brand new subbie posted in straight out of the box and they arranged a cracking welcome for him.

    I was duty Scout pilot and they got me to drop him at an outstation - Belcoo - and wait in the local area. Meanwhile at Belcoo they had dug a hole in the yard, put a 'body' in it and parked a Saracen over the top to conceal it. On arrival they grabbed him off the helicopter and rushed him inside saying that they were expecting a morter attack at any moment. No sooner had he reached the ops room when there was an 'explosion' ( courtesy of ATO I think) and everyone in the ops room took cover under the table. It was quickly decided that things were too hot to have a new boy there and I was called back to lift him out. When I got back they had moved the Saracen exposing the groaning 'body' in the 'crater' for all to see. He got back in the cab with his eyes out on stalks and flapping like a turkey thrown off a cliff, not helped by my split arrsed departure. He was very quiet on the trip back to 'Angelo but on arrival the CO and RSM were there to meet him with a stiff drink and smiles all round.

    God bless the Cavalry!
  6. Reading Hexagon - evening symposium, APC members invited to (we thought), attend dinning-in night to celebrate IAT successful end to the Middle Wallop Heli-meet.

    Arrived at the Hexagon in mess kit with only one member (Ginge), in SD's. Whose of us in MK were immediately directed to the front foyer where we were to welcome "other invited higher ranking guests" and escort them to their appropriate table - we was conned!

    Ginge, in SD's, was to stand outside and direct arriving guests in their cars to the dedicated Symposium car park around the side of the building.

    This then was the seen - after an hour of complete humiliation, we'd had enough and went on the clandestine scrounge for anything palatable - however, NCP's answer to "toutes directions", Ginge wasn't fairing too well. We heard this loud "Boy" from outside only to see a very large black Colonel emerging from his car and beckoning Ginge to him. We had by then "collected" several bottles of plunk, half a cow and were in the process of hi-jacking a mini bus to drive us back to MW.

    Minutes later we were out of Reading heading down the M3 towards Wallop. Several bottles down the road, we asked Ginge what all the commotion was about. He said the Col. had called him Boy and told him to park his car for him.

    This he had done - in reading's NCP multi-storey car park and that he still had his keys!


  7. This was reported to me on ex last week.

    Many years ago when the bear was still prowling the other side of the wall a certain AAC pilot was asked if he could give a newly joined WRAC 2Lt a familiarisation flight in his helicopter. The young lady arrived and was given all the warnings and safety briefs and was then led under the disc by a ground crewman who opened the door for her (such well mannered chaps the AAC) and made sure she was sitting comfortably. Helicopter takes off and young girl sits back to enjoy the experience. At about two thousand feet she looks out of window to see ground crewman hanging on for grim life making open door signs. Before she can warn pilot the ground crewman vanishes into the air.

    Very shaken young lady.

    Very amused pilot and crewman and very very amused ground crewman who just happened to be a sports parachutist.

    This story was related because we were talking about a CO who had just bollocked a young pilot and made the remark that we never did anything silly in my time. The WO2 reminded the CO about when he was the COs crewman.
  8. This one dates back to the late 60s.

    A new Rupert comes to join his battalion in Berlin (at the barracks on the old Luftwaffe base down in the south-west corner - having a senior moment and can't remember the name - Montgomery Barracks?).

    A carefully planned wind up is in place: during his first day, two of the other subbies in his company take him on a tour round the barracks, which includes taking him to the old Luftwaffe hanger area where the actual border was simply marked with a couple of coils of barbed wire (the 'wall' there was a hundred metres further back). Be careful if you're around here at night, they warn him, because the Soviets are entitled to patrol right up to the wire if they want to, and they are widely believed to come over to our side occasionally.

    He spends the rest of the day being shown around and introduced to new people, and the day finishes with a welcoming cocktail party in the mess.

    But then, evil subbie suggests they go down to the wire to see if they can spot a Soviet patrol. New boy has had a few by now and is lulled into a false sense of security, so agrees.

    Down by the wire, nothing seems to be going on until suddenly there is a rustling in the bushes. 'Russians, run for it!', shouts evil subbie, taking off, but new boy isn't quick enough and a bunch of burly, grunting Bolsheviks grab him, cuff him and throw a sack over his head. At this point, he's taken over the barbed wire and then over the Berlin wall and thrown into the back of a car. (in fact carried down to the assault course by members of his platoon, taken over some wire they had there, and then the 12 foot wall).

    The actual plan is to take him down to Stuttgarter Platz and continue the party but our boy is thinking: 'First day in the battalion and kidnapped by the Soviets, Feck!' With superhuman effort he manages to wriggle one hand out of the cuffs, thumps whoever is sitting next to him, pulls the sack of his head and jumps out to try to evade through East Berlin and somehow make contact with the Brits.

    Except of course, he's actually speeding down the Heerstrasse in West Berlin, which he hits with a resounding crunch, and fractures his skull.

  9. As a Jock Bn we had some very plummy sounding english signallers attached to Bn HQ. While in the field we used one of them to phone up the guardroom on Friday afternoon and claim to be a royal equiry from Balmoral (where the Bde Comd had just had supper) and claim that a royal would be visiting our Highland games on Sunday, which the CO had just cancelled.

    The idea was to wind up the orderly officer who was an excitable worrying female. Unforunately the guard went straight to the Adjutant.

    Imagine our alarm when we arrived back at camp to find the place in uproar. The CO had reinstated the games and cancelled everyones time off until it was sorted. A very embarassed senior officer was seen to explain the joke to a CO who was flapping like a chicken with its feet on fire.

    Thankfully the CO did have a sense of humour after all!!!!
  10. Having never been near HVM, forgive me for technical mistakes in this possibly apocryphal story. Could of course be total crap.

    Heard from a mate of a mate at 12 Regt that a group of visiting UOTCers were flown over to spend some time with the boys on exercise, ride around in Stormers, drink themselves silly etc etc.

    While looking around one of the vehicles in the hangar, one of the bright young things asked the No 1 what the 'helmet thing with all the wires coming out of the back' was.

    The Bdr had spend all morning with some buckshee Dom 10 and a bit of black nasty, and stuck a few wires on the back of the rigid cover which apparently goes on the ADAD, and connected them through the driver's hatch. Passing the 'helmet' down to the stoodent, he replied that it was a 'sight guided automatic aiming system' which would slew the missiles onto the direction in which the user's head was pointing. The student, keen to test this 'exciting new AD development', placed the ADAD cover on his head, and gingerly began moving his head back and forth.

    To muffled cries of 'it's pitch black - I don't think it's working!' the Bdr replied that said student should be more vigorous, as this would 'warm the system up'. So vigorous did the moshing of this student become, that he became disorientated, fell over his own feet, and broke his nose on the hard, unyielding inside of the ADAD cover as it hit the tarmac with a resounding thunk.

    As I say, possibly a load of balls. Especially if the ADAD cover turns out to be made of canvas or something...
  11. Date: 1995 ish
    Place: Eket, Nigeria

    Whilst not of entirely military content, there were more than 75% ex-codgers involved. I must also explain that communications were extremely limited, one telephone with links to UK and one radio/telephone which could also be patched through to UK.

    We had a lottery syndicate going at the time, it boasted 13 members in all, one of which was particularly into winding people up. His name is Andy H. So “The Sheep” and I decided that as he was the keeper of the “Golden Promise” (The syndicate’s lottery ticket) we would stitch him good and proper. The Sheep phoned Andy H’s girlfriend and explained the sketch, and gave her a set of relevant numbers, so that when Andy H telephoned on the following Saturday (as he did every week) he would be given a spot of duff gen.

    The Saturday night came and as usual we were all in the bar (GMT +2), when Andy H, said “right I’m off to check the lottery then” and off he jolly well went, The Sheep and I had a little grin to each other and continued drinking.

    Approximately 10 minutes later a very exited and breathless Andy H came dashing back into the bar shouting at the top of his voice “we’ve won, we’ve won, we’ve won the fu*kin lottery”. Everyone looked at him and comments like are you sure etc etc bound forth. “yes, yes, we’ve fu*kin done it, the drinks are on me” he continued, flashing the lottery tickets in the air.

    I suggested that as I had the radio/phone gadget, I should try to contact the lottery people to verify the numbers. Great idea they all replied. So I sat in the TV area and dialled an appropriate number (it was actually my wife in UK, as I began to think that we should get the real numbers, just in case we had really won) when I got through, I steadied my pen over the old copy of the daily Mail, and as she told me the real numbers, I wrote down the syndicates numbers instead. Finishing the conversation with “Thanks for your help” I then tore off the numbers and gave them to Andy H. He looked at them and starting bouncing off the walls again, and ordering more drinks, he then suddenly dashed toward the exit shouting “I’ll go and get all the others to come up for a drink” and disappeared.

    Another five minutes passed, during which The Sheep and I, along with several others who were now in the picture, discussed the best way to let him down. It would not be easy.

    The whole syndicate and half the rest of the camp were by now assembled in the bar, so I stood up and started a speech about how good it was that Andy H had run the syndicate to this fantastic conclusion and how well he had taking this piss take.

    His face was immobilised in a look of shear terror as the penny started to drop, then suddenly he said “no, you lot are trying to wind me up, I know we’ve won you just won’t believe me, but WA WA has checked them as well, so we must have won!”

    Everyone raised their glasses and with tears of laughter running everywere, toasted the “ Lottery Winner”

    He still hasn’t got me back, but he did get The Sheep a good one in the states, but that’s another story!
  12. When I got to my first unit i was interviewed by my troop SSGT at the end of which he handed me a pair of mankey old boots (looked like they had seen service in the Somme) he told me to hand them into the QM to be destroyed.

    On my way to the QM my Troop Sgt handed me a Signal Envelope and told me to deliver it to the RSM immediatly.

    I approached the RSM's office did the halt one two etc and handed him the envelope after he read it he looked up and asked if i had read it i immediatly replied "no sir!" He handed it to me and told me to read it, to my Horror it read:

    "Dear Sir,

    As a fresh recruit out of Training i would like to bring to your attention the distaste, no, disgust of the current practice of Bulling boots, it is waste of my time and money and benefits nobody i have therefore come here to shove these boots where the sun dont shine!"

    Needless to say in future i read all signals handed to me!

    Anyone else got some good arrival stories or even ones you have orchestrated but have backfired?
    • Like Like x 1
  13. did have one backfire on us once... :oops:

    asprog got posted into us and all the normal ones were tried on him, long wait from QM's etc..then he was tasked to get striped paint so we could painta KAPE vehicle with the corps colours as a aband round the vehicles..smartass scouser came back with it!!!! :oops:

    apparently he had worked at crown paints in or near liverpool for a couple of years and knew the density of paints?!!!came back a couple of hours later with said paint in nice tricolour layers....
  14. A new troopie arrived at my first unit in Gutersloh. On her first Exercise the OC made her run around like a headless chicken doing all the shit jobs a Tom would normally do.
    When she past a couple of full screws sat down chatting She remarked to the OC "why arent they doing anything" OC said "Theyve been in longer, get moving." :D

    A student on her gap year came for a visit at same unit. SSM and OC demoted themselves to full screw and promoted two full screws to OC and SSM. Confusion reined I was swiftly moved on before I could find out what happened.

    Seen a Craftmans try to check the tyre pressures on a CVRT 8O

    I was asked to go and get some wire nails. "No its a wind up" I said to the fullscrew. He then kindly escorted me to SQMS and presented me with a packet of wire nails. :roll:
  15. we sent a brand new lad to the mt stores with a track pad , and asked him if he could get an afv432 to go with it.

    a new troopy turned up to us in the falklands and was to be given a tour of all our dets on the island by one of his full screws. they went down to mare harbour , the full screw parked up said he'd be back in a minute and disappeared onto one of the boats , when he came back he had a large brown parcel with him which he chucked into the passenger footwell.
    as they came back up to MPA the monkeys pulled them over , as they got out of their rover , this full screw opened his door and f**king high tailed it over the cuds leaving the rupert , by now very confused in the wagon
    monkeys asked him all the normal bone questions then asked him what was in the parcel , surprise surprise it's full of "white powder" so off goes troopy to nick (nearly in tears apparently) and when he gets there the OC SSM , the full screw and all his troop are outside the nick giving him the big cheer , as it turned out he was a f*cking cracking troopy in the end , funnily enough always looking to stitch someone up....... funny that eh. :D