Troops accused of Iraqi-prisoner abuse-cs to investigate

“If that bloody Piers Morgan isn't behind this again, I'll kiss Dame Stella. On the lips”. 'C's distinctive voice boomed over the speakerphone and echoed around Blenkinsop's bedroom. The call had come in the early hours, well, eight-thirty and that counts on a Saturday morning. Blenkinsop was so befuddled with sleep that he nearly forgot to activate the overtime meter on his trusty I-Phone. He rolled off of Miss Mupperty, ensuring that his beloved Teddy-Bear wasn't too crushed this time, and concentrated.
“Have you seen the bloody BBC Breakfast News?” thundered 'C'.
The tone of the voice suggested to Blenkinsop that he was unlikely to even see breakfast.
“Sorry, sir. Just catching up with some paperwork”. Blenkinsop riffled the pages of his copy of 'Nuts' against the mouthpiece, or some of them, as the pages seemed, inexplicably, to be sticking together.
“They are saying that there are thirty-three new allegations against our lads for abusing prisoners in Iraq” Shouted 'C'.
“But sir,” groaned Blenkinsop, thinking that the old man had lost his marbles again. “We're not in Iraq any more”. The silly buffer hadn't been the same since his Knighthood was announced at the same time as Fred Goodwin's and Ted Kennedy's.
“No, man! The allegations of abuse go back to when we were trying to teach them Democracy, Freedom and not to squat like bloody Labrador bitches. For Heaven's sake, they are suggested that our men not only beat-up but buggered-up dozens of them. Apparently, the Brigade of Guards sodomised a sixteen-year old camel groomer!”.
“Well sir,” Blenkinsop beathed a sigh of relief, “We know that the story is fabricated then”.
“My thoughts exactly”, said 'C', a little more easily. “Why would the Guards need to go outside of the regiment for that sort of thing?”
“ Is there any evidence, Sir?”. Blenkinsop was fully awake now.
“Usual rubbish. Photos of old bruises long healed. Affidavits from Granny, next door neighbours and so on”.
“ Any chance that the abuse was self inflicted?” Blenkinsop glanced guiltily at the copy of 'Nuts'.
“I don't care, Blenkinsop. This is another damned crisis. I need to you to get to the bottom of these slanders, expose them and rehabilitate our troops' name. You can use any resources you need. You must nail these liars to the wall!”
“Yes, Sir,” a thrill ran though Blenkinsop---any resources—more power—more expenses.
“Oh, and Blenkinsop”. 'C's was calmer and more confidential now, “If, by any chance, some rogue element actually did cross the line, you have carte blanche to throw them to the wolves—Officers, too if neccesary.”
Blenkinsop gasped. “Officers?”.
“Absolutely, “ said 'C'. “Not Public School chaps of course”
“Of course”
The line went dead.

to be continued

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