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Scariest place in NI?

Terence Cuneo (and his ubiquitous fvcking mouse), if I'm not mistaken. Daubs Works Of Art worthy of nothing better than to adorn a two-bob Commando Comic front cover.

Ooooo he was sainted in the Postal world and was even commissioned to produce a series of paintings. Makes you wonder where the money came from? Some of our Brigadiers ran DEF PCS like a personal fiefdom.
Nothing but inky dark rectangles appear on my screen when I clicks dem links.

Are you trying to prove a point about 'Black Mafia', or summink?

If you left-click on the 'Share' link/logo with each picture, and select 'view in another tab', that will get you the pic, and clicking on that, will get you full-size.
If you left-click on the 'Share' link/logo with each picture, and select 'view in another tab', that will get you the pic, and clicking on that, will get you full-size.
I'm strangely unimpressed by this unsolicited advice.

Perhaps better if someone learned hisself to upload photos to the Arrse site itself, thus guaranteeing their ready availability to the intended audience :thumleft:
We had form for stuff like that.

Procuring weapons became a bit of a sport for us and their guardroom was full of unfortunate soldiers who were locked up for losing them.[:QUOTE]

It was an unwritten but oft vocalised RGJ instruction to take possession of as much hardware and equipment from any other mob and further points awarded for depriving Paras and L.I. of shiny and useful stuff.

Sent from my karzi while losing several pounds
This is my sta-brite from '71 - just before we lost a guy and painted them black. It's the only photo I have of my time in the Army.

Particularly short hair for a 'Jacket I notice.
You can almost see him thinking-
"I can't remember where I've left my gun......"
Not far from the truth. Possibly a deja vu moment. Back in '67 we had a Queen's Review at Winchester. Fresh out of training our platoon were held back at Barton Stacey pending the event. On the day I recall her majesty walking a few feet away (I had to look down, she was tiny). Later as we gorged our packed lunch, setting our weapons in nearby stacks, I found that mine was gone. Being a 'nig' I thought, oh well, someone else will hand it in. Amazingly the only bollocking I got was for not picking up another one - the guy who picked up mine was 'caught' as he handed it back to the armory and I believe he got a week's RPs.

Back to the pic, I only came across it a couple of years ago when the guy who took it contacted me through facebook and emailed it. I had an aversion to photos and thought I had managed to avoid them completely. As for what was on my mind, no idea - but, later the same day, or perhaps the next, we were chasing a car with a fake plate at around 4 in the morning and we lost it. I decided to show my driver how to I was careering over the Boyne Bridge I noticed that the rear vehicle was no where to be seen. I executed a brilliant handbrake turn as I came off the downward slope of the bridge, failing completely to notice the civvy car coming up behind and, in short, I ripped the front bumper off the rover. Demonstrating my junior NCO quick thinking I jumped out and grabbed the civvy and yelled - "when I tell you to stop you fecking stop". Though he appeared to agree wholeheartedly, the escapade cost me £49 for a new bumper and probably a life long 'cant' description from my driver.
Particularly short hair for a 'Jacket I notice.
At this point in time (early May 1971) we were still being told that the IRA had no support, hearts and minds were the objective and 'be nice' was the order of the day. After Bob Bankier was killed (22 May 71) things changed in short order - described at the time as 'the battalion transformed overnight - it grew up that day' - I guess that is how I remember it. Later in the tour I had the dubious honour of lifting non other than 'smokin Joe Frazier' after his car was reported to have broken through a checkpoint. It is not commonly known that Smokin Joe had an alter ego as a cabaret singer. He was visiting NI as part of the Ulster 71 celebrations for which there was a large outdoor event at Stranmillis. A radio message said that his vehicle, a black roller, had broken through a VCP. I did think it may have been a bit upmarket for the IRA, but on the other hand, I had no idea that Joe, smokin or otherwise, was in the province. So, when one of my illustrious grew spotted the vehicle, we cornered it on the Ormeau bridge whereupon I jumped out of the rover, stuck my rifle against the window and politely called "right you feckers, get out of the car". A stream of gigantic black guys got out the car, five I think, and Smokin Joe was the smallest of them. We sent for the RMP who apparantly let him go. In the media report he said that he had gone weak at the knees when the guy pointed his rifle at him..........I almost shat myself when I saw the size of his hands. When I reported the circumstances back to 30 the radio operator couldn't talk for laughing - fecker!
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Wee Hawken

Terence Cuneo (and his ubiquitous fvcking mouse)

Good mouse though. If you look carefully, it's carrying a weapon and has a rifle green beret. And leading from the front.

Cuneo told me the story of the mouse when I visited his studio while he was painting his D Day picture in (I think) 1984. Apparently early in his painting career he was half-way through a picture when his cat dropped a dead mouse at his feet, and he took that as a signal that he should add a mouse to the picture. And continued to do the same thereafter.
The food in the German cookhouse was very tough. Gopping.
I had a dose, comma for laughter, of Deutches cooking during a grape-picking exercise in the Bernkastel area - watery eggs and uncooked baconish stuff for breakfast at 5am followed by supposedly low alcoholic reisling. If you survived until lunch is was something like black and white tripe complete with sauerkraut. I chucked mine over a low well when no one was looking - the fat mamma pounced immediately with a twinkle in her eye "du must haf enjoyed zee lunch, heir, haf sum more"...................

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