And then cut to the scene, a chisel jawed blue eyed poster boy, sat in his Ferret Scout Car on the Dorbahn or Achmer or Soltau trg area, with beret (didn't have to wear helmets in those days)at a jaunty and yet at the same time menacing angle, totally pissed off as it is chucking it down and the OC doesn't want to command said FSC for 8 hrs all the way back to camp at endex having soundly beat orange forces, who are in the camp next to us in Munster and the real fighting will take place down the Gremmy that night....................
Some catchy 80's track in the back ground and flash to squaddie removing the noddy suit he put on 3 weeks previously and hasn't had chance to take off since, as he removes his boots, with zips complete with grenade ring looped through the puller bit,peels off his tropical bottoms and removes his artic smock, we see the plukes all over his shoulders, which he gratefully squeezes before going for a comfy shite, knocking one out and then a shower, before getting his dancing kit on for a night down town,granda shirt, tight jeans, slip on shoes and even though he has only had 3 hrs sleep a night for the last 3 weeks he is up for a night out on the town...............
Too right! High drama at the vital forest crossroads where an orange forces RMP Traffic Post casually packs away with the blue meanies trundling in and setting up all around come dusk.
"Hello Zero, this is..Our position is being occupied by enemy forces......."
"Roger. Wait Out."
"Lofty, get rid of the orange and break out some white minetape.................."
"Hello zero, this is..We've all been killed or captured and the umpire's taken us out for 8 hours."
"Right Geordie, what was the name of that village we passed with the tasty looking Gasthaus?"
With examples of daring do as young Crunchie takes his LMG (which still looked like a Bren) and tried to fend off 3 CVR(T) from 13/18th in a small village outside Hannover,then for us all standing there lik enaughty school kids, blue and orange forces, being bollocked by umpires for firing in a German main street,
Then young Crunchie bravelly running towards a suspected IRA bomb placed outside Gremmy NAAFI, to bravelly evacuate everyone, for some pads wife to say, thats my shopping get off it as ATO tries to blow up a pack of NAAFI sausages, and 6 cans of McKeowns Red
The BFBS alchohol awareness ad has given me inspiration for another scene.
Cut to front room of a pad, Sgt Cacktache slides on his Messdress jacket and checks his floppy fringe in the mirror as two wide eyed, snotty nosed brats silently peer through the banisters at him, their cherubic faces framed as if by bars.
Through the serving hatch in the wall Mrs Cacktache can be seen doing the washing up.
Sgt Cacktache: See ye later luv.
He exits and slams the door, camera pans to Mrs CT's face, the shot ends with her quietly sobbing into the washing up bowl.
Cut to the mess bar and a party is in full swing, ashtrays are overflowing and beer is being spilled.
Cut to an internal shot of the CT residence's front door, it bursts open and a very drunk Sgt CT falls flat on his face gyros in hand, fly undone and a big wet patch down his left leg.
You just don't know the half of it. Do you know how much guile, energy and, yes, I'm not afraid to say it, deviousness went into sneaking over the border into Holland when it was rumoured an Active Edge was going to be called ? Ah, the hell, the unrelenting hell of sitting in a Dutch bar drinking Oranjeboom or Grolsch and eating Dutch frikkies whilst all the pads just over the border were being dragged out of bed, leaving their wives to do the NAAFI shopping by themselves, just to walk around in green (yes, green, none of this fancy mottled stuff) combats for a few hours.
I still have nightmares about it after all this time.