"Did you polish those boots last night, Smith?"
"No Sir, my wife did!"
Poor soul turns red whilst remainder of squad stifle laughter, moves on to next man...
"Are those your best boots, Jones?"
"No Sir, they're Slater's!"
Poor soul now has turned puce and is doing a good impression of a man having an epileptic fit. Squad is now gigling like kindergarten children. Next man....
"Is that your best uniform, Firth?"
"No Sir, (pauses for effect) but it is my favourite!"
Poor soul has now lost the power of speech and only appeasrs capable of inhaling as he tries to come to terms with what is happening on his parade. The squad are now behaving in a similar fashion to the Roman guards in the Life of Brian and the famous Welease Wodewick sketch.
That cost us a full drill lesson at warm up speed but it was worth it.