Ripping it out of subalterns

I remember, I OTC camp at Garelochhead. Mounting guard, we were inspected by the ROO - a cornetto in the QRIH. Mr A. was very proud of his International Rescue styley forage cap and wore it on nearly every occasion he could think of.

The guard was mainly made up of gunners and was a pretty smart guard, as it goes. Indeed three of those on that guard went on to command regiments or SO1 staff jobs. The guard commander was distinguished too but sadly not for the right reasons, God bless her and the poor BSM who ended up as RQMS BFFI on a double tour.

Mr A. turned to march back to the mess, at which point the sound of the Thunderbirds theme began to emenate from our lips. He stopped and swivelled. Silence. He turned to walk to the mess, Thunderbirds! Stopped, silence. Walked, Thunderbirds again! Oh it was priceless.

He gave up and almost fled back to the mess where he no doubt drowned his sorrows and soaked his wounded dignity. Sorry Vince but you made such a lovely target.
Well, if we're doing memories of OTC japes, there was a certain camp at Sennybridge where, unimpressed by the, perhaps mildly arrogant attitude of some of the commissioned folk (a number of whom now hold fairly decent rank/decorations etc), a mutinous party of MTQ2 types (on camp for GDs), doped the officers teapot with laxative on the last day. Unfortunately, the dosage was a bit strong, and the last night party was a bit sparse for subbies, whilst the med centre was particularly full. Luckily, 2Lt Dilfor was warned-off by the conspirators and stuck to coffee (showing a startling lack of integrity towards his fellow officers even at that tender age).


War Hero
Was standing next to the GPO having a pi$$ when the Battery Clerk came in and stood the other side of the GPO at the urinal. Locking down at the GPO's winkle he remarked 'Sir, that is the biggest clitoris I have ever seen'. If I hadn't been in the process of weeing at the time I would have soiled my denims.