Geordie Storey

For all of those that are unaware, Mark "Geordie" Storey passed away this morning after suffering a brain haemmorage over the weekend.

A great pal, prolific drinking partner and one of those annoying blokes that was both good at all sports and fit as ten men dispite his ability to neck copious amounts of ale!

I think that rather than turning this into a RIP thread - any funny anecdotes about the man will be well received.

My own personal favourite was on a lads tour of Benidorm in '96 when he broke the bed in the room next to me after being a top wingman and going along with my bird's very very overweight pal. That and standing on Number 1 court at Wimbledon in '96 singing rugby songs to 3000 punters which ended with Cliff Richard stealing our thunder!

God bless mate


I remember a couple adventure p*ss ups ie Newquay and Tenby! Less said the better!!! Though raiding the cookhouse for munchies is one!!!

Top Bloke

May your party continue!!
I remember piss ups in the Monopole, Leeds and Newspaper bars in Dortmund, how the hell could he get so drunk, fight so hard then run a BFT the following morning. Larger than life and a legend in the radar world. RIP mate.


I always appreciated his straight talking and the ability to put so much feeling into the stock answer "...because he/she's a bellend!"

I hope it's not too sentimental to say I will attempt to work it into a conversation tomorrow as a tribute.
I remeber when he took the SEE remedial PE lesson on a run around Arborfield and Finchampstead. As he was passing the Barkham Bull he made the class double on the spot while he popped in for a quick pint.

Whether he only had one we'll never know.

Absent friends, Geordie Storey.


Is thius Georgie Storey I remember from my Rapier days?


I do seem to recall that he did have the knack og getting absolutely hatracked and then be large as life the next day.

RIP mate.
A great loss, a great bloke, he taught me how to drink, but the secret of getting up the next day that he kept to himself. I'm gutted.
I'm shocked and very saddened to hear about the loss of Geordie. He was the life and soul of any party, could drink like ten men and still be up at 0530 ready to run an eight miler. The guy was, and will remain a Corps legend. At least he'll be up there with plenty of Nookie Broon and plenty of reet good chebs. God Bless you mate.
Shocked & saddened sums it up. Thoughts go out to his family.

Geordie was always larger than life, one of the characters that makes the world more interesting. He had a wry comment to add to any bar conversation, or at least an observation about "The chebs on that..."
Lost touch over the years and was shocked to get an e-mail this morning.

Remember him being so keen for a p*ss up that he begged to be an usher at my wedding. He came, he ushed, he got p*ssed. Nuff said.

Sharon & I are thinking about you & yours mate.
We used to go on the pop in Bournemouth most Friday nights when we were at Larkhill. As squaddies do, we had our routine worked out to a tee. Butlers bar till 11 and then into the Zoo&The Cage, loads of ale, bit of a boogie and if we were lucky maybe a bit of feed the pony. After that we'd always head to this greasy spoon up by where we parked the car.
Anyway this one night, Geord is obviously in a pesky mood and starts a food fight with my Tiffy (Mick J). Mick responds in kind and this type of kebab weapon prolification gets to the point where Geord pushes the greasiest Doner ever into Micks chest whilst both of them don't say a word but desperately try to keep a deadpan face for the horrified civvy onlookers.
At this point Mick, notorious for his thriftiness, realises that his brand new Ben Sherman (they were trendy and expensive in those days!) was ruined so scoops out a handful of baked beans from his side order and wipes them into the sparkling white jeans that he had on. This is too much for Geordie and he erupts in laughter until realisation hits him and he shouts out, "AAArrgh, those are my jeans!". The whole food shop pissed itself in laughter at these two characters that night & my belly laughing only got worse watching Mick going back to the car dragging his arse along the floor like a dog with a nasty case of worms! Needless to say, Geordies jeans were quickly consigned to the dustbin on the return to the mess
My first posting was superb thanks to those guys.
Does anyone else remember the time at SEE when one of the RP corporals (Mick Straw, if memory serves.) had a heart attack during a BFT Geordie was taking. Oh how we Laughed.

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