Interesting court martial on the horizon, General in the dock.

Truxx

LE
I was commanding an independent armoured recce squadron on the edge of the divisional area well out of the way. Needless to say, the White Shark decided to visit, which as a thrusting OC should have been a good opportunity for me to add some polish to my operational insert. Unfortunately, a few days previously, I´d broken a crown on one of my two front gnashers and getting to a dentist was rather problematic given our isolation. So I wedged the old crown in place with some chewing gum and greeted the great man as he stepped out of the lynx and escorted him to the coal bunker (aka, Ops Room). There I proceeded to deliver my heavily rehearsed ops briefing. It seemed to be going swimmingly; he nodded sagely at all the right moments, whilst no doubt inwardly stifling a huge yawn as he heard yet again a very average officer delivering his interpretation of the commander´s intent. About half way through some dirge about my CIMIC plan, I managed to liven up proceedings by spitting out my broken crown, which followed a high arcing trajectory that would have made a gunner proud and landed at the feet of the general. Without missing a beat, I continued my briefing sounding like Toyah Wilcox and making about as much sense. The general continued to stare at my crown on the floor until I´d finished. I left the army as a major.
You were not over in Bihac by any chance?? Only if you were and equipped with CVRT then I owe you a beer. Two even.

On one of our jollies we were on your patch with some journos (in the run up to the elections I recall) and we were accompanied for reasons that currently escape me by a spectacularly pneumatic lady UN Protection Officer. She was offered a ride in a CVR(T) and the terrain was enough to get her already straining chesticles taking on a life of their own.

It was a magnificent sight and she ended up piling back into the Chinook flustered to say the least, and was downright frisky in the UN bar and elsewhere later that evening.

Thank you!
 
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What would have been the effect on discipline and command if one or more of the recruits had given him a good beating?

I had an "old school" hard man platoon bloke when I joined my first recruit platoon as a new instructor. He was known to give the "hardest bastard here and if anyone wants to try it on feel free" speech to new recruits. He didn't with this platoon because one of the recruits was built like an outhouse with fists to match. This recruit got above himself in about the second week of picking on a scrawny little Welsh kid who'd joined us after passing out of IJLB. The outhouse went staggering back in a flurry of well placed punches that broke most of his face in about 5 seconds. A lot of lessons were learned that day.

PS. No - nothing was reported. This was a world of men and Feelings hadn't yet been invented. Both men became excellent soldiers - the Welshman became RSM in later years.
 
You were not over in Bihac by any chance?? Only if you were and equipped with CVRT then I owe you a beer. Two even.

On one of our jollies we were on your patch with some journos (in the run up to the elections I recall) and we were accompanied for reasons that currently escape me by a spectacularly pneumatic lady UN Protection Officer. She was offered a ride in a CVR(T) and the terrain was enough to get her already straining chesticles taking on a life of their own.

It was a magnificent site and she ended up piling back into the Chinook flustered to say the least, and was downright frisky in the UN bar and elsewhere later that evening.

Thank you!
We were certainly there for the elections, though our patch was from our base in Glamoc in the south to Titov Drvar in the north. Still some way south of Bihac. It was a massive AOR for one squadron. Eventually we got hived off to the Canadian Bde, which was interesting as they only spoke French. I think their area extended north to Bihac.
 
During the early weeks of training, our Platoon Sergeant and Section Commander offered to fight anybody who wanted it with an absolute guarantee of no comebacks.

It was a different Army and a different world.
Sadly I got that at Sandhurst, it was a me and him offer. As he was Para Guards with a face that looked like this was a common occurrence I off course declined!
Of course this was another Millennium and about three Jubilees ago - the one when we got no medals!
 
On one of our jollies we were on your patch with some journos (in the run up to the elections I recall) and we were accompanied for reasons that currently escape me by a spectacularly pneumatic lady UN Protection Officer. She was offered a ride in a CVR(T) and the terrain was enough to get her already straining chesticles taking on a life of their own.

It was a magnificent site and she ended up piling back into the Chinook flustered to say the least, and was downright frisky in the UN bar and elsewhere later that evening.

Thank you!

May I be the first to ask the most predictable of questions in that; these journalists you had with you, did they take any photographs, or perhaps even better, some footage of this UN officer you mention?

Asking for a former General friend of mine who is constantly avoiding CMs for some reason.

Edited to ask - Was this a magnificent sight or merely a magnificent HLS (site)?

Yours in pathetic anticipation.

SB
 
During the early weeks of training, our Platoon Sergeant and Section Commander offered to fight anybody who wanted it with an absolute guarantee of no comebacks.

It was a different Army and a different world.
1997, new SSM offers to take anyone outside and fight them during his arrival brief. Stunned silence as we tried to work out if we'd been transported back to the 70s. The cock.
 
1997, new SSM offers to take anyone outside and fight them during his arrival brief. Stunned silence as we tried to work out if we'd been transported back to the 70s. The cock.
That was a time zone to avoid. I would like to be transported to the time you all got duvets, not bed blocks and nasty shouty people!
 
1997, new SSM offers to take anyone outside and fight them during his arrival brief. Stunned silence as we tried to work out if we'd been transported back to the 70s. The cock.

The thing is most of that type would back up their words. At least you had a fighter to follow.
Unlike the bint and many like her, who rely on their rank to pick on those they deem weak.
 
During the early weeks of training, our Platoon Sergeant and Section Commander offered to fight anybody who wanted it with an absolute guarantee of no comebacks.

It was a different Army and a different world.
It was a very different world. I would surmise that Corks actions resulted from her assuming (in this case for one) that there would be no comebacks physical or other. Cowardly to hide behind rank, position and maybe gender in that way. At least your Sergeant probably was prepared for someone taking him up on the offer, and accepted the risk.

In about 1990 we watched a C/Sgt kick a Tom that was in the prone position on the firing point at Lydd. Strange position I thought to start kicking someone and our SNCOs let him know how they felt.
 
The thing is most of that type would back up their words. At least you had a fighter to follow.
Unlike the bint and many like her, who rely on their rank to pick on those they deem weak.
No he couldn't. He spent 20 years in the RCZ and tried to model himself on old school SSMs. He was a laughing stock throughout Dhekelia Garrison.
 
No he couldn't. He spent 20 years in the RCZ and tried to model himself on old school SSMs. He was a laughing stock throughout Dhekelia Garrison.
So why didn't anyone offer the **** out?
I loved calling people bluff, suddenly they remembered their rank. *******.
 
So why didn't anyone offer the **** out?
I loved calling people bluff, suddenly they remembered their rank. *******.
Seriously? And become a shit magnet for the rest of your posting? I sorted him out repeatedly in a lot cleverer manner. Half the time he didn't even realise he'd been stitched up. The thick Welsh twat.
 

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