A worthy successor to Sassoon.Twas the night before Christmas,And all over ArrseWas jollity, banter, humour and farceThen along came a walt, intent on impressing,The results of their efforts proved completely depressing…They pompously made a few interjections,Interrupting a NAAFI thread on erectionsAnd multiple others on sin, booze and viceAnd topics The Guardian wouldn’t find niceKind AWOL said' No! Give them a chance!'The rest of said 'Oi, you're in bloody France!You don't have to read the crap that it postsWe fear that it's one of Blonde-bint's many ghosts!''We no longer have Sluggy to save us this night,By offering them out for a one-sided fight,In which their face gets comprehensively slicedAnd their innards ripped out and thoroughly diced,As Ange sets them off on the way to their doomAccompanied by a nice little choon.'Still anxious to blend in,The Walter got worseThey decided -God help us-To treat us to verse...It said ‘I have here a poem, in tribute to you,Our soliders, sailors and heirs of The Few,I dedicate it to all those at the front....Twas the nigh.... how dare you call me a c____!"They flounced with great drama: 'Delete my profile,You horrid soldiers are beastly and vile!'They left in a huff, with tears and a poutAnd the door hit their arse, as they made their way out.
That one, you mean?
I was once on the rampage in the Moray firth. Things were going badly as the squadron responsible for the offload were making a right pigs ear of it. Admittedly it was about 2 in the morning, about minus 10 and the rain was coming in horizontally from the N sea but even so.Starts with 'R', ends in 'F'.... for air, SNCF for surface - two trestles collapsed under trailers on a gentle trip across the Med. The trestles looked too small and the trailers were not chained down anyway...
You’ve missed half of it.When Lord Byron's dog died, he had it buried with a tombstone above the grave, on which he inscribed,
Here lies one who possessed.
Beauty without Vanity
Strength without Insolence
Courage without Ferocity.
All the Virtues of Man
And none of his Vices.
We learned about slinging animals on my Port ops course, but we never put it into action. Many years later, whilst working in Thessalonika we actually witnessed it in action, as some cattle were being loaded onto a grotty greek two-hatch freighter.
The complete poem is quite long. However, the opening passage which is usually quoted is:That was all I remember. Please elucidate.
My Co went to NigeriaWater bowser.
It provided for everything inc. washing and shaving
Back in the day before plastic bottles were a thing.
And you would not want 16FK22, the very early (almost a S2) S3.
It was a hateful thing in every sense of the word.
Which is why I was on the bike having ridden for 2 hours in freezing rain. Still better than a freezing noisy painful ride in the landrover
It's funny how memories can be brought up. The Ach Adj, of which you talk, was a tiny petite thing, she had a golden retriever.Yup it was 5 Hy but I was a loosely attached truckie. So I managed to avoid having my dins emptied on my head. I must have had had my eyes shut when it came to any totty although I recall there was much lusting after the assistant adj.
I was much too in love with my Beesa to notice obvs.....
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