In 1995, I was serving with 39 Infantry Brigade, based at Palace Barracks in Holywood. One of the Battalions that formed part of the Brigade counted amongst their ranks a fairly senior Corporal who had once, in his wild and crazy youth, served for 5 years in the French Foreign Legion. I can't name the Battalion involved in order to protect the guilty but let's just say that they were known for enjoying 'Danish Pastries' and going 'Over the Hills and Far Away'. Anyway, this Corporal (known affectionately as 'Dirty Pierre') was reknowned for mixing French words into English sentences with logic-free abandon. He was also a bit of an alky and supplemented his income by cutting hair cheaply around camp. One day, he was doing the rounds in one of the junior ranks' accommodation blocks. After shearing a few, he took one look at the double-crowned head of the next lad in line and shouted across to me, 'can you chuck me my posh clippers, mon ami, this one's got mal 'air 'ere'. Read it out loud... Anyway, the funny thing is that the young lad in question caught something tropical and nasty in Belize and was laid up for weeks with feverish chills. LOL!