'KIN 'ELL !! been heavy in here today...so......

My colleauge has just asked me"Whats a Dug" :lol:
Ok after having been cajoled, threatened and complained to, because lazy members :wink: cannot be arrrsed to search for this thread.
it has now made it to "sticky" status :lol:

so if you do lose it it will be near the top of page one in the NAAFI Bar :lol:
8O Heaven ! Stickied !? What a blast. Better get me thinking cap on ! And der Stump imortalised in Mighty's sig ! Fabby, good one MB the posing wee cnut would no doubt approve. Ye'se have fair cheered me up after a tw*t of a day. Went to work at 2 am. My car was there. Got back at 8 am, and there it was, gone ! Fackin thieving scrotey wee fackers. Found it three miles away embedded in a bridge parapet. Only plus is the passenger air bag failed and there's an awesome headshaped bulge in the windscreen where the fackers heed hit it. Nae blood tho' unfortunately. I mean it's only a fackin M reg Escort but it's the hassle FFS. Barstewards !!

Still, like I say ye've cheered me up ! Cheers peeps.

Ubique ya bass !!!


War Hero
Book Reviewer
A-S, were there any progeny from Stumpy? Are there Sons (Grandsons, Great Grandsons etc) of Stumpy populating the Province as we speak?

We have had Rinty, Khan and of course the star of the Show - Stumpy. Any other cast members?
X-Inf said:
A-S, were there any progeny from Stumpy? Are there Sons (Grandsons, Great Grandsons etc) of Stumpy populating the Province as we speak?We have had Rinty, Khan and of course the star of the Show - Stumpy. Any other cast members?

Dunno for sure Inf, but judging by the number of bitches that were, ahem, procured ** for the dog by the guys on cordon during the odd occupied searches we did, the law of averages says there must be some !! Fack knows what they'd look like tho' !!

Ubique ya bass !!!

** legal definition ? abducted and raped !?
twicer said:
8O am a trying massa ! am a trying !!! Actually I'm wanna take Vicki_127 up on her seceratarial offer but she'll no send me the required, undraped, photo with her CV so's I can complete the job interview !!! :wink:

And, I've got to sort oot the 'scrotes stole ma motor' mince.

Ubique ya bass !!!
When I arrived in NI as a dog handler I'd be,what, ninteen-ish with a career that, up until that point, had consisted of Juniors, Basic and a year in a Field Squardon at Perham Down from where we'd done a shitty tour as a construction section and where I'd voluteered for the dogs. I did'nt have that much of an idea of what I wanted to do careerwise, but, the one thing I was sure of was that if the ADU turned out to be like the UKLF posting I'd come from then the Army could shove it and I was off back too the farm.
Fortunately, and probably because I did minimal time at Kesh, the ADU was brill. Especially the seach side on Brigade. I got promoted to Lancejack as that went with the job and got me acting full screw the same year as a bribe for taking on one of the sections that no-one else wanted.We had the kind of autonamy, independance, freedom from bullshite and responsibility that you could only have dreamt of at Titworth. Hofficers and SNCO's would ask YOU for advice, I had mates from, and worked with, just about every Capbadge in the British Army AND it was a warry as ye fackin wanted. A heady mix I can tell ye, twas like living inside yer own edition of Commando magazine !!
And it cap it all, there were helicopters !

Aaahhhh, helicopters ! Big ones, wee ones, Army ones, RAF ones, Navy ones and even a Marine one ! Helicopters were the icing on the Commando Magazine cake that was my life as a Wagatail.

Now when I arrived at Brigade the Military were using four types of chopper, the big ones were RAF and Navy Wessexs, RAF Pumas and the little ones were AAC Scouts and Gazelles. There was also a RM Gazelle on attachment at one point and I mention that seperately as it was pointed out too me by a big Grumpy Bootie that, 'We're no fcukin matelots, cnut. Wurr different and better !' They were all based at Bessbrook which was the 'busiest heliport in Europe' apparently and me and the boy got to fly in the lot !

It never failed to amaze me how the dogs took to heli ops. We never did any training for it on the course nor when we did our fortnights assessment at Kesh prior to going operational. You just arrived at Brigade and the first time you went in a chopper with the dog was your first op. But, no probs for the hounds in fact they all, without exception as far as I know, seemed to love flying. Stumpy did. He obviously knew when we were waiting for a helicopter and when it was time for the off he'd charge like an eejit to get there first and then stand with his front paws up on the step as he was too short arrsed to get in himself. A swift boost on his backside and he'd be up, give the Loadmaster a big kiss and then leap onto the nearest available seat looking all pleased with himself until he was ordered off by who ever was left standing. You had to keep an eye on him thereafter mind. It never happened to me because I knew what Stumpy was like and kept a grip of the wee fcuker until we were on the ground but there were stories of Wagtails dangling by the lead at 500 feet when the dog assumed that because the loadmaster opened the door they had landed !!

Though the thrill of flying never wore off totally the big machines could be a bit like catching a bus once the buzz of getting on board was over. There was a Loadmaster to look after you and work the doors and the view was fairly limited once you were inside, but still !

Now, of the bigger ones, I have to say that although the Pumas were more modern with back to back seating, bigger windaes and a chance to see into the cockpit sometimes, the Wessex was my fave. Even though they were getting long in the tooth even then there was something about one of those fcukers, as big as a bus mind, clattering out of the mist and flaring up before it plonked itself down in some boggy field to pick ye up ! Man, I'm getting a hard on just thinking about it !

The samller birds were cabby although it was the Scouts we were in mostly. We used to go out on half section 'Eagle Patrols' with the back doors off, grunts sitting either side with thier feet on the skids and me and the hound sitting on the floor between them as we'd charge about the countryside and swoop down on roads doing snap VCP's that scared the daylights oot the locals ! Marvelous fun !

I was only in a Gazelle the once, twas the Bootie one that extracted me, the dug and two of the search team when an RE search we were on went tits up. It was OK but difficult too appreciate fully when you've got two Oggies in the back with all thier gear, a search probe poking in your lug and 40lbs of wet, muddy, steaming search dog on your lap who insisted on showing his appreciation for being rescued by continually trying to lick the pilots face and slobbering all over the cokpit in the process. Bet it took them ages to valet that facker once were were chucked out.

I really did'nt think it could get any better and then, towards the end of my first year, a new sound was heard over the Provence !

Lynx had arrived !!


I'd been posted to the furthest flung corner of the Empire which intially had no air support of it's own. If, and it did'nt happen that often fortunately, we flew out of this place it was one of the birds from Bessbrook that would come over for us and you just knew that if you were flown out on a search you were fackin well walking back, especially if it was fackin raining.

Now the Crabs used to get some stick because of thier refusal to fly in weather that the Army or the Navy would. As I understand it now it's because they each have thier own service parameters as to what's flying weather and whats not, but, back then it was a sure bet that if the RAF were due to pick you up after a search and it started raining ? 'Get the thumbs oot boys, we're fackin hitching hiking again !' The Navy on the other hand ? Fack me ! I've stood in the ooloo with the rain running down me neck and the next thing out of the mists thunders the gozzome bus, thumps down in the field and skids to a stop, ploughing three furrows quicker than a Massey Ferguson tractor in the process !!

I once sat in one of the Navy birds on a shitty, foggy day and watched the Loadmaster hang out the door trying to see something only to find that he was looking for the electricity pylons they knew were in the area, somewhere. I know this because, as we watched, the pitch of the engines suddenly changed and as we went up the red light on top of one of the pylons slid passed the open door !! Fly Navy ?? Yup if is gets me oot the rain, but jings ye had an adventure sometimes.

The Army too would fly in some erm, interesting conditions. After an Eagle Patrol one winter we flew back to drop the section off at thier base which was one of the nasty wee forts on the border that you only walked or flew in and out of, then me, the dug and the pilot were heading back to Bessbrook. Just as we were arrived this fack off snowstorm blew up, twas a full white out that we sat in for a moment or two before the pilot, a sergeant, shuts down the motor and calmly says 'Howay, lets blag a cuppa 'til this blows over!' and with that jumps oot and heads into the base !
Cup o' tea later, he looks out the door and announces, 'Right, that's better. Time to go.' and disappeared outside. Into the blizzard. Definately not wanting to get stranded me and the hound took off after him,
'Erm. Sarge ? Does'ny look like it changed much tae me. Yer gonna fly us in this ?'
'Fackin right son ! The tea here's shite and I've got a do to go too. Jump in and tell that dog to stop licking me !'
And off we went, blind as far as I could tell, with the wipers going ten to the dozen. Fack me that was a long trip but fortunately the weather had cleared enough for us to get back and land without me getting out first to check the road signs.

Yup, I'd missed all this when I'd moved to the new place but that all changed when the place got it's very own Lynx.

Navy Lynx....I know what you mean .....was sat on the inflatable dingy thingy once with 4 SLR`S Under me feet when the the sky taxi driver decided to bank so hard that I was looking directly down at the Sea , oh the door was open to make matters worse , then he put it in free fall on its side and the brown stuff nearly emerged as I scrambled around for the 4 Gatts.
Could see them both grinning like twats under their black visors.....the good old days. Fly Navy !!!!
Now squaddies being squaddies they just love shiny new kit and within the dog handling scene me and my section had the biggest, newest, shiniest toy in the Brigadein the shape of our Lynx. Some of the fackers that had refused to take on the section were coming on the phone,
'Er, Jock, you looking for some cover down there ? Wanting a couple of days off ? I could nip down if you want .'
'FACK OFF, it's ma helicopter ! Stick tae yur buses ya ******* !'
Now I realise it was'ny really MY helicopter but thats what it felt like. The machine would rotate from Aldergrove every day and the guys had a portacabin that passed for Flight Ops near the main gate and like I say, icing on the Comando Mag cake ? fack me this had cherries on too. If I was tasked for searches in the area I'd pop into Flights Ops,
'Morning, I've got to go too such and such.' or 'Ive a search on at so and so, can I get a lift ?'
and it would be a,
'Fine, Jock, give us ten minutes.'
If I wanted to fack off up to Lisburn to see the bird for the night I could get the UDR handler to cover, jump on the aircraft heading back for Aldergrove and the boys would drop me off at Lisburn and pick me up the next morning on the way back down !!
I mean, fack sake, twenty years old and commuting to work by helicopter ? Fackin loved it. The other thing with the Lynx was you were right there with the crew, so to speak, sitting in the back with a set of 'phones on watching over thier shoulders as the the guys flew the thing and asking all sorts of questions, 'Wassat thing ?' 'wassat do ?' and of course a grandstand view out the front window.
There was one flight we used to do to a wee place at the top end of the area. Used to take about twenty minutes or so to fly up there and on the way we would pass over this great big forest. When we arrived at the start of the forest some of the pilots would drop down to just above the trees and follow the tracks which had the Lynx jinking and swerving about, yeah baby, and as if that was'nt enough to give ye a boner, the forest ended with a big cliff that you would shoot over (so to speak !) and although you were still flying level the visual effect was stunning !!
'Fackin A, do again ! do it again !' I'd squeal like a kid at the fun fair.
'Fackin right !' would slobber the Stump, 'I love you guys !!' lickety, lick.
'Stop dribbling on me instrument panel Stumpy !' they'd complain.

Yup, we loved the Lynx and we were the only fackers that had one in the Brigade.

But, the first time I came across the Lynx was when one came to collect us after a couple of days in the field. We'd never even seen the thing before. We did'nt know what the enplaning drills were and we did'nt know that the handle, just below the window on the side door, was'nt the one you used to open it ! We do now !

Right, sorry 'bout this, but the insurance assesors just arrived and I need to fcak off, grip the facker in a headlock and see how much dosh I can screw oot the insurance for me car.

Cheer the noo !

Right ! thats the insurance tw*t sorted ! Fackin tight leeching barsteward would'ny believe I paid two grand for the car. Cheeky tw*t ! Still, where were we, oh aye....

So we'd been out in the sticks for an overnighter. It had'nt started that way but we got redeployed after the first search was over and ended up in the arrse end of nowhere and, with no prospect of getting a lift back, had nipped into the Spar shop in this wee Republican village, surprised the owner by shopping instead of turning the place over and got some grub for the tea. We then patrolled to a ruined castle not too far distant and at the picnic tables on the lakeside there had a rather marvelous little picnic too ourselves. Then, with the sh!t shot and the tinnys finished we camped out in the ruins and spent a rather nice night under the stars. Even the torn faced dwarf was happy having eaten until he was sick !
What is it with fackin squaddies ? An order to 'Don't feed the fackin dog !' seemed to be taken as a challenge and as soon as me back was turned they, and the dwarf as well it has too said, would conspire to get as much shite down his neck as was possible.
'Oh, I think I've eaten too much boss !!' he'd whinge, fart and belch.
'Serves ye right ya wee gannet ! Nae sympathy !'
'Cnut !'

At first light-ish and we were getting our sh!t together and preparing to trog back to camp when the Section Commander gets word that we're to be picked up by helicopter at such and such a time at so and so a location ! Brill ! So off we sets for the PUP gets there in plenty time, settles down in the hedgerow and gets a brew on.

Now, those of you that have worked with choppers will know, but you soon learn to recognise which ones are which by the noise they make. Each one has a very distinctive sound. So we're all sitting about and we hear this chopper approaching, but it's got a sound that I'd never heard before and I was just getting my head round this fact when the Lynx burst from behind a tree line and circled over us.
'What the facks that ?' some said, some thought.
'Dunno, but it's a cabby looking facker.' someone remarked.
'Is it one of ours ?' remarked some brightspark, tho' who's else he thought it was I never found out.
'It's a Lynx ! Army's newest helicopter.' piped up the section plane spotter, 'twin engines, 10 passengers, 200 mph and it has rigid rotor blades so it's the only helicopter in the world that can fly upside down.' he added, helpfully. 'Really ?' we all piped back at him, 'How interesting !'

Anyhow, this things was obviously going to land and, although it did look cabby, it had two side doors, same as a Puma, so it should'ny be a problem getting on board, 'Pop the smoke !' says the Section Commander,' and form two sticks !'

So, the Lynx bumps down, side on too us, and we all jogged across towards the bird. I was about half the distance away from it and I was thinking, 'Fackin load master must be sleeping, he's no opened the doors yet.' when the head of the sticks in the shape of the Section Commander arrived at the door and having had the 'Don't touch fackin anything !' lectures from the RAF and RN, stood there waiting for it to open.
Hah ! nae loadmasters on a Lynx.
We all dropped to one knee to see what was going to happen next.
The pilots gesturing to the, rather, non plussed Section Commander,
'Open the fackin door yourself !' he gesticulated and eventually the boy got the message, stood back and looked at the door then grabbed the handle in front of him. The one in the middle of the door under the window. The one that jettisons the door in case of an emergency.

As the door came away from the helicopter with the section commander still gripping the handle we all thought,
'Oh,fack, thats done it !! He's gone and broken it !!' or some such.
He stood there no doubt thinking,
'Oh ya cnut, I've broken it !!' or some such and, apart from the fact that there was a Lynx roaring away, you could have heard a pin drop, so too speak.
The crew broke the spell. They revved up, took off and left us and thier, probably, rather expensive door standing in the middle of the field wondering 'What the fack do we do now ?'
'Be a fackin long hump back carrying that facking thing !' remarked one wag, but the Lynx was circling and it seemed obvious that they wanted the bit for thier aircraft back.

Now I don't know what was said in the cockpit, but ye can imagine !
'I say Woger, that bwutes just wipped the doewer orf aar choppa ! Whateva shall we do !'
'Fack knows, Woopert, neva had me choppa vandalised by damn gwunts before ! D'you thinks it's best we go wetrieve it ?'
'I'll say ! Neva a bwoody mechanic awound when you need wun !'

Now bear in mind this is at a time when the only ground to air comms ye had was jumping up and down and waving or firing mini flares at them to get thier attention. So there we were, waiting, crouched in the field while the Lynx came round again and landed a bit further away this time. We all got up ready to run towards it when the door opened and one of the pilots jumped out. He gave us a wave that sort of said 'Any of you fcakers advance an inch towards this helicopter and I'll shoot the feckin lot of ye !' and stomped over to the Section Comander who was sitting on the door by this time as he was scared it might blow away. After much gesticulating and finger pointing the pair of them hauled the door over to the chopper and did whatever they had to do to get the thing attached. Then after a very pointed display to the Section Commander as to where the proper handle was and how to use it we were waved aboard and eventually set off. During the flight the section commander, poor bast*rd, had to sit with the spare headset on and, although you could'nt hear what was being said, you just knew he was getting the bollocking from hell !! He did'nt half get it tight from us as a well. Later on, in the bar, we ribbed him mercilessly, all of us blithly ignoring the fact that we would all have done the same !!

The next time we saw a Lynx there was black and yellow tape markings all around the offending handle and a fcuk off big red arrow pointing to the proper one.

Now, why did'nt they do that in the first place, eh ? Air Corp arrses !

Ubique ya bass !!
And now, ladies and gents, I shall excuse myself from your good company as I've no had a night off for a fortnight and my new dessies need a christening !!

Cheers the noo !

Ubique ya bass !!!
A-S, Yez a genius.....

Remember a hound by name Holmes. Loony beggar used to leap up against top of kennel in a foaming rage until he laid himself out cold. Got turned loose against an unruly crowd after they absorbed and killed fuirst dog sent in. Holmes charged into crowd, they closed ranks and then bomb burst about ten secs later with underwear in tatters anfd a foaming Holmes raging behind 'em....... Brilliant!

Bloody good man, Holmes........

P.S. Willing to snipe scrotes who nicked vehicle but suggest publishing Saga of Stumpy to affiord upper class model with bar 'fridge.

Ubique what....?

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