So what happens in the event of MINEVAL, TACEVAL, or God forbid, the real thing?
If in married quarters - Hooter goes at 04@*= sake.
If in private squat – phone call at same time as above.
Boss on the end of the phone,
“Quick! Get in here, the Sh*t has hit the fan in Umbonggo Land, and we’ve got to move out in two hours!”
Damsels’ reply -
“No, sorry. I don’t do Thursdays before lunch!”
If you take the Queens shilling, irrespective of colour of uniform, rank, or sex, you are part of one of the best fighting forces in the world, and as such you can be called on to operate, fight and die if necessary, if so ordered by the Sovereign, in any corner of the world.
At this rate, the do gooders will have us stop the issue of sacking undergarments to all recruits as well.
Mind you, if like that kind of thing, you could always become a monk.
