Evidently there were many monumental arse packing cnuts to be met in the mob, but what about the other side of the coin? Who did you meet that was the dogs gonads? My first was my Training Corporal, a proper little firebrand, decorated in Ulster and blade straight. He didn't suffer fools gladly, but he persuaded me not to give up when I returned from my first 48 hr pass feeling all homesick. Top man. I owe him a crate. Second was 'Appen. The soldier's soldier, he gave the most fearsome bollockings ever and his instant justice was painful, but far preferable to a charge. On the other hand, no one outside of the unit was allowed to suggest you'd done anything wrong, that was his perogative! Even though he was at the end of his career and we were just starting ours, he could outrun and outmarch us and he hated throbbers with a vengeance. A jobsworth warden at Edinburgh Castle learned better than to mess us about, as did an exceedingly pompous Colonel whose face betrayed real fear when he suddenly noticed the blue wings as the Boss, who was far junior in rank, very quietly told him to leave. He taught me that with patience, tenacity and cunning, almost anything is possible, or if not, to leave the fcuk alone, stop wasting my time and move on. Dogs Gonads that man! And still alive and kickin so I understand.