In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces
I've never been a soldier. I was an air cadet once, but that mostly involved sitting in a mouldy hut learning about aeroplane engines with the hint that one day we might go flying.
Yet, anyone who has spent time defending their nation, or at least drinking bromide-laced-tea for their nation, must have stories to tell. Tell them now.
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:26)
I've never been a soldier. I was an air cadet once, but that mostly involved sitting in a mouldy hut learning about aeroplane engines with the hint that one day we might go flying.
Yet, anyone who has spent time defending their nation, or at least drinking bromide-laced-tea for their nation, must have stories to tell. Tell them now.
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:26)
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Jinkies!
My dad was an officer with the Canadian Navy; so was my mother. Dad's got some great stories involving abusive drinking games (something about a blindfold and a rolled-up newspaper), getting to issue the order to fire the cannons during an outdoor performance of the 1812 Overture, and my somewhat inebriated mother literally falling into his lap in the mess.
(As an aside, I'm told that before Quality Street chocolate was available in Canada, the boys used to bring so much of it back with them that it was used as ballast.)
Aaaanyhoo, many years ago, somewhere in Europe, a Canadian naval officer and two gents from the US Marine Corps got into a heated argument dock-side. An english-speaking local who was wandering past rightly pointed out to them that arguing so very publicly was hardly doing a favour to the reputations of their respective organizations.
Seizing the opportunity to bury the hatchet, they opted to sort the matter out over a pint or two. The Canuck bought the first round, the Marines bought the next; repeat ad infinitum...
The next morning, the Canadian officer woke up to find the USMC eagle tattooed from shoulder to shoulder across his chest.
Nice!
( , Sun 26 Mar 2006, 14:45, Reply)
My dad was an officer with the Canadian Navy; so was my mother. Dad's got some great stories involving abusive drinking games (something about a blindfold and a rolled-up newspaper), getting to issue the order to fire the cannons during an outdoor performance of the 1812 Overture, and my somewhat inebriated mother literally falling into his lap in the mess.
(As an aside, I'm told that before Quality Street chocolate was available in Canada, the boys used to bring so much of it back with them that it was used as ballast.)
Aaaanyhoo, many years ago, somewhere in Europe, a Canadian naval officer and two gents from the US Marine Corps got into a heated argument dock-side. An english-speaking local who was wandering past rightly pointed out to them that arguing so very publicly was hardly doing a favour to the reputations of their respective organizations.
Seizing the opportunity to bury the hatchet, they opted to sort the matter out over a pint or two. The Canuck bought the first round, the Marines bought the next; repeat ad infinitum...
The next morning, the Canadian officer woke up to find the USMC eagle tattooed from shoulder to shoulder across his chest.
Nice!
( , Sun 26 Mar 2006, 14:45, Reply)
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