A pirate goes to the doctor.
"I have some moles on me back, matey," he said. "I'd be obliged if ye'd take a look at them.
The doctor studies the moles for a while. "It's alright, he says, "they're benign."
"Ye need to have a better look," said the pirate. "There be twelve, at least."
Sailor goes into a pub and stood at the bar is a pirate whose head is the size of a tangerine.
To cut a long joke short the pirate found a beautiful mermaid trapped in a fishing net on a beach and freed her. She granted him a wish and because he couldn't shag her (for she had no fanny) he asked for a little head.
This joke was around about 1980. Replaced in our regiment by "Airborne Forces" and "The Paras eat em all."
Then one night a young lad in 1st Troop knocked on my door. "What would you say if I told you I'd taken a bottle of painkillers?" Without looking up, I replied to the effect, "That you're a twunt."
Next morning I was asked about the ruckus in the room opposite yesterday evening? "Wah?" from me, the man who had slept through a mortar attack a few yards from his bed in Lisanelly Barracks, Omagh in 1976.
"Young Trooper REDACTED PERSEC got casevacced for swallowing a bottle of painkillers." I kept quiet.
He survived, but not before his suicide note went public. To the effect:
"You're all a bunch of twunts except that nice Lance Corporal Alien." Again, I kept quiet.
Next day, "Why do they not have painkillers in the 15th/19th Hussars?"