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Gen Cowan's Edict - A Reply

I wonder what his views are on pasta?
Don't go there. There is every likelyhood that there is a Pastafarian somewhere in the Cowan family line.
 
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He does know that every mess he visits now there will be plates of sandwiches for lunch.
 
I do hope that he is never offered a biscuit with any beverages arranged for his meetings either. Perhaps not as barbaric as the sandwich but it's the thin end of the fingers wedge you know!!!
Bourbons = Good. Royalist links and the '45, Bonnie Wee Charlie and all that.
Garibaldi = Bad. Screaming Eytie socialist revolutionary.
And don't even unwrap the Custard Creams - go instead for a bit of Battenburg, the Windsor-tastic choice of tiffin nibbles.
 
Don't go there. There is every likelyhood that there is a Pastafarian somewhere in the Cowan family line.
Is he then a member of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster ?
 

spartan5762

War Hero
Do you recall that picture of Abu Hamza (delete/insert random extremist) drinking a can of lager whilst smoking?

Will there be a picture from the past with him eating a sandwich chatting to his wife in the mess?

I am not a member of the Officers Mess' but it sounds a hoot!
 
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You do know if anyone leaves their DII on i'll be emailing him straight away. Titled "What's all this about you don't like sarnies".
 
B

bokkatankie

Guest
There may be a deeper back story here:

Personal life
For several years Sandwich had as a mistress Fanny Murray, the subject of Wilkes' An Essay on Woman (1763), but he eventually married Dorothy Fane, daughter of the 1st Viscount Fane, by whom he had a son, John, Viscount Hinchingbrooke(1743 – 1814), who later succeeded as 5th Earl. Sandwich's first personal tragedy was his wife's deteriorating health and eventual insanity. During his wife's decline, Sandwich started an affair with the talented opera singer Martha Ray. During their relationship, Ray bore him at least five and perhaps as many as nine children, including Basil Montagu (1770 – 1851), writer, jurist and philanthropist. Tragedy was to strike again in April 1779 when Ray was murdered in the foyer of the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden by a jealous suitor, James Hackman, Rector of Wiveton. Sandwich never recovered from his grief. The events surrounding Ray's murder were depicted in a popular novel Love and Madness (1780) by Herbert Croft.


A mezzotint print of the Earl engraved by Valentine Green, after Johann Zoffany, published 30 August 1774
In a famous exchange with the actor Samuel Foote, Sandwich declared, "Foote, I have often wondered what catastrophe would bring you to your end; but I think, that you must either die of the pox, or the halter." "My lord", replied Foote instantaneously, "that will depend upon one of two contingencies; -- whether I embrace your lordship's mistress, or your lordship's principles." This retort is often misattributed to John Wilkes.

Legacy
Sandwich retired in 1782. Despite the number of important posts that he held during his career, Sandwich's incompetence and corruption inspired the suggestion that his epitaph should read: "Seldom has any man held so many offices and accomplished so little."

Recently, some historians have begun to suggest that Lord Sandwich was not perhaps as incompetent as suggested, but that previous historians have placed too much emphasis on sources from his political enemies.

The sandwich
The modern sandwich is named after Lord Sandwich, but the exact circumstances of its invention and original use are still the subject of debate. A rumour in a contemporary travel book called Tour to London by Pierre Jean Grosley formed the popular myth that bread and meat sustained Lord Sandwich at the gambling table. A very conversant gambler, Lord Sandwich did not take the time to have a meal during his long hours playing at the card table. Consequently, he would ask his servants to bring him slices of meat between two slices of bread; a habit well known among his gambling friends. Because John Montagu was the Earl of Sandwich others began to order "the same as Sandwich!" - the ‘sandwich’ was born. The sober alternative is provided by Sandwich's biographer, N. A. M. Rodger, who suggests Sandwich's commitments to the navy, to politics and the arts mean the first sandwich was more likely to have been consumed at his work desk. From 14 March 1741 Sandwich had a Grisons Republic born brother-in-law, Jerome de Salis. The Grisons, or Graubunden, are well known for their sliced dried meat, Bündnerfleisch, while its then adjoining subject territory the Valtelline, where De Salis grew up, is known for Bresaola; so the refinement of Salis' native habits to suit card playing in St. James', Westminster could have been a small step for the inventive peer.
 
Quick, turn the fan off before we get covered on shi...
 
A brief note of thanks for the other night's supper:

I realise with horror, was the night before last,
But I’ve already consigned it to the unpleasant past.
Your invitation was kind, and elegantly penned,
Where else would I rather have spent the weekend?

Perhaps with my husband whom I see so rarely,
Tied to his desk to ensure trawls dished out fairly.
His children adore him, it’s written all over their faces,
But only know him from photos in far-away places.

I saw him afar sobbing into his plate,
A creaking B-Minus is surely his fate.
I feel I must apologise on his behalf,
He simply hasn’t grasped when’s proper to laugh.

I have tried in vain to teach him when to stand,
And how dare he have reached for the roll with his hand.
The starter was stunning, laid in such neat lines,
Such a shame he spoiled it by requesting the Heinz.

Why couldn’t he have commissioned with more style,
A red hackle would have been much more worthwhile.
But it’s back to the City, breadwinning for me,
Thank goodness he was selected for Tranche 3.
 

lert

LE
Bourbons = Good. Royalist links and the '45, Bonnie Wee Charlie and all that.
Garibaldi = Bad. Screaming Eytie socialist revolutionary.
And don't even unwrap the Custard Creams - go instead for a bit of Battenburg, the Windsor-tastic choice of tiffin nibbles.

And a bit of a Hob Nob as well presumably? Not with one's spouse of course.
 
F

fozzy

Guest
A brief note of thanks for the other night's supper:

I realise with horror, was the night before last,
But I’ve already consigned it to the unpleasant past.
Your invitation was kind, and elegantly penned,
Where else would I rather have spent the weekend?

Perhaps with my husband whom I see so rarely,
Tied to his desk to ensure trawls dished out fairly.
His children adore him, it’s written all over their faces,
But only know him from photos in far-away places.

I saw him afar sobbing into his plate,
A creaking B-Minus is surely his fate.
I feel I must apologise on his behalf,
He simply hasn’t grasped when’s proper to laugh.

I have tried in vain to teach him when to stand,
And how dare he have reached for the roll with his hand.
The starter was stunning, laid in such neat lines,
Such a shame he spoiled it by requesting the Heinz.

Why couldn’t he have commissioned with more style,
A red hackle would have been much more worthwhile.
But it’s back to the City, breadwinning for me,
Thank goodness he was selected for Tranche 3.


Bravo! Worthy of Kipling or Betjeman
 
Bubbles_Barker, I'm sure I read on here a couple of days ago that the general consensus of Maj Gen Cowan, both as a battle group commander and as CO TFH was not that high.
The memo has added fuel to fire of the public perception that the British Army are lions lead by donkeys. Recently I was asked what my biggest concern about returning to contigency ops was and my response was "a real fear of a massive increase in BS". Clearly with individuals like Maj Gen Cown running the show I think my fears are justified.
 

B_AND_T

LE
Book Reviewer
Dear General Cowan,

Go **** yerself.

Love

The Mess
 

Subsunk

War Hero
Book Reviewer
There was a Commodore at a shore establishment whose party trick was to send his empty staff car around the grounds with headlights on and the little comedy flag fixed to the bonnet on a suction cup. He'd watch through binos from the Commodore's office to see whether you saluted it or not. There was no mileage in trying to argue the 'looked in the back seat, no-one there wearing a senior Officer's RN cap, not saluting a mlaaring Babcock-employed bumpkin driving an old Ford Mondeo' line. I always suspected that this was due to Officers promoted well beyond their ability falling back on stuff they could deal with. It's always safer and easier to do a bit of pointless bullying than to speak truth to power.

Other high-level issues of the era included the hunnish, satanic practice of dipping one's knife directly into the peanut butter in the Wardroom. There was a high-level push which saw the 'Private Eye' subscription cancelled. Actually, this was a blessing, because it was when I discovered that 'Country Life' had the 'Debs' feature which I took to be rich guys pimping out their horsey posh dim daughters.
 
I do hope that he is never offered a biscuit with any beverages arranged for his meetings either. Perhaps not as barbaric as the sandwich but it's the thin end of the fingers wedge you know!!!

Too late, I served him biscuits with coffee. Then compounded my error by giving him a non-U paper serviette rather than a napkin.
 
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