Egg banjos bounced by sarnie barmy army
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18:00 is far too early to eat. Drink yes, but eat? Not until 20:00 surely?
Anyhoo, dining in the mess on a Saturday? Should be down the local kebab vendor.
Anyhoo, dining in the mess on a Saturday? Should be down the local kebab vendor.
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Hanger shuffle
You've only got to walk in any UK urban environ and see how many people eat fast food with their unwashed hands in the street - they are absolutely encouraged to do so.
I cannot remember any occasion when I rushed off to wash my charcoal and hydraulic oil covered hands before eating my long awaited egg banjo during the down phase of a tacival.
You've only got to walk in any UK urban environ and see how many people eat fast food with their unwashed hands in the street - they are absolutely encouraged to do so.
I cannot remember any occasion when I rushed off to wash my charcoal and hydraulic oil covered hands before eating my long awaited egg banjo during the down phase of a tacival.
I don't own this space under my name. I should have leased it while I still could
I don't own this space under my name. I should have leased it while I still could
Ah yes, the baked beans.
We had to share the mess at Machrihanish with an RNlN squadron whilst they were on exercise and we were on bolthole. This was a mixed blessing. Being Navy they came with their 16mm projector and a good selection of the latest films. The downside was that dinner moved to high tea and high tea consisted of sausages, beans and chips every day for a fortnight.
It was a relief to get airborne, gas off, and get some decent scran.
We had to share the mess at Machrihanish with an RNlN squadron whilst they were on exercise and we were on bolthole. This was a mixed blessing. Being Navy they came with their 16mm projector and a good selection of the latest films. The downside was that dinner moved to high tea and high tea consisted of sausages, beans and chips every day for a fortnight.
It was a relief to get airborne, gas off, and get some decent scran.
Mad Jock,
I don't think so, but her sister has been known to correct one's unacceptable prejudices 
West Coast burds, you can always tell them - but not much
And Basil does yours give out proxy rights to her mates if they are in range?
West Coast burds, you can always tell them - but not much
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I can imagine what those prejudices are.
Not shagging your blood cousin and various abuse pointed at gingers.
Aye its just not worth wasting breath on.
I spent 12 months trying to convince 5 of them that turning the thermostat up to 40 degrees max setting will have absolutely zero effect on how fast the building will heat up. The concept that the boiler will wack out max chat until it gets up to 22 degrees then maintain that temp was just alien to them. Then they would open the windows because it was to hot when they came back in.
Not shagging your blood cousin and various abuse pointed at gingers.
Aye its just not worth wasting breath on.
I spent 12 months trying to convince 5 of them that turning the thermostat up to 40 degrees max setting will have absolutely zero effect on how fast the building will heat up. The concept that the boiler will wack out max chat until it gets up to 22 degrees then maintain that temp was just alien to them. Then they would open the windows because it was to hot when they came back in.
Gentleman Aviator
TTN
We had a somewhat similar "Horsey" officer at the. Secret Hampshire Helicopter Base in the early 70s.
He hunted, and one Saturday lunchtime found him in the bar in full John Peel.kit for a sharpener (stirrup cup?) before going off on Henry the Horse to chase foxes.
After a short consultation, the assembled flying officers threw him out - possibly via window - for wearing "sports kit"!
And I've still got a copy of Stradling! Best bit is the chapter giving advice to Junior Officers visiting the Sgts' Mess!
We had a somewhat similar "Horsey" officer at the. Secret Hampshire Helicopter Base in the early 70s.
He hunted, and one Saturday lunchtime found him in the bar in full John Peel.kit for a sharpener (stirrup cup?) before going off on Henry the Horse to chase foxes.
After a short consultation, the assembled flying officers threw him out - possibly via window - for wearing "sports kit"!
And I've still got a copy of Stradling! Best bit is the chapter giving advice to Junior Officers visiting the Sgts' Mess!
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TH
I often wondered, who's were the horses near the end of the disused runway opposite the O mess and on the way around to what was the OCU at the time, there were three if i remember correctly, one being a foal, I used to give the odd one an apple on the way to work in the morning.
I often wondered, who's were the horses near the end of the disused runway opposite the O mess and on the way around to what was the OCU at the time, there were three if i remember correctly, one being a foal, I used to give the odd one an apple on the way to work in the morning.
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Would The idea of working for General "stuck in 1913" get any top class person to think about joining the Army?
No I don't think so.
So for the good of the Army the best think would be a very very public kick in the nads from the chief of staff.
No I don't think so.
So for the good of the Army the best think would be a very very public kick in the nads from the chief of staff.
PN wrote:
As is well known, beans are not an officer's vegetable!
Re. the full Jorrocks kit, at pre-pongo Wattisham we had a very pretty little air trafficker who was a keen horse-ist. During a pause from Summer Ball decoration duties one lunchtime, we spotted her in her tight jodhpurs, long black boots and horse hat, setting off from the OM on her bike to do some horseabatics. Cue much whistling and waving from the assembled 56(F) throng, together with "Fiona, it's only a bike - you don't need all that kit but we do like the look!". The little lovely merely said something rather unladylike, smiled sweetly and continued on her way.
I can still picture her in those jodhs.....
NURSE!!
Ah yes, the baked beans.
Re. the full Jorrocks kit, at pre-pongo Wattisham we had a very pretty little air trafficker who was a keen horse-ist. During a pause from Summer Ball decoration duties one lunchtime, we spotted her in her tight jodhpurs, long black boots and horse hat, setting off from the OM on her bike to do some horseabatics. Cue much whistling and waving from the assembled 56(F) throng, together with "Fiona, it's only a bike - you don't need all that kit but we do like the look!". The little lovely merely said something rather unladylike, smiled sweetly and continued on her way.
I can still picture her in those jodhs.....
NURSE!!
ISTR said lady at Wattisham used to offer what was known as an '0898 Talkdown' on night PARs when it was quiet. This involved lots of non-standard phraseology such as "Left a bit more, up a bit... Oh Yes! There! That's it! Don't stop..." etc, along with some other associated sound effects.
The Edwardian General would probably have succumbed to apoplexy had he heard one, or at least had to go and wash his hands! On second thoughts, he probably wouldn't have understood it anyway, as he insists on eating everything with a knife and fork.
The Edwardian General would probably have succumbed to apoplexy had he heard one, or at least had to go and wash his hands! On second thoughts, he probably wouldn't have understood it anyway, as he insists on eating everything with a knife and fork.
Best bit is the chapter giving advice to Junior Officers visiting the Sgts' Mess!
"Watch the blighters - they'll try to get you absolutely wasted!"
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I alway thought Army officers used to eat their sandwich products with a knife and fork for hygene reasons, because they were not properly potty trained.
Beagle, sadly a different F, though equally decorative from the sound of it.
To return to the thread though, check this out! Gen Cowan's Edict - A Reply | Army Rumour Service
To return to the thread though, check this out! Gen Cowan's Edict - A Reply | Army Rumour Service
It's been a while since I went "down route", but is this chap suggesting his pongoes, on a long C130 trip, are to refuse the "buttyboxes" offered ? I well remember swapping an ACC (Mr Beagle will know) for a butty box with an Army Major. I was grateful for the exchange, and found the sandwiches more than satisfactory. On the subject of egg banjo's none better than the NAAFI in Malta circa 1973. Real bacon, squirty egg accompanied with a pint of Hop leaf could not be bettered.
Smudge
Smudge
at pre-pongo Wattisham we had a very pretty little air trafficker
Sorry, I digress, back to food.........
wiggy, we were indeed! As well as another Fiona, the Bloodhound EC.
But there was also she who was later to be known elsewhere variously as 'The Money Monster' or 'Mrs Doubtfire'....
On the subject of food, I'm amazed that anyone would swap an ACC (Chicken curry and rice) for an S1 box - particularly during the era of the Robirch pork pie. Which would often be so stale that if you shook it, you could hear the congealed lump of ex-piggy (trotters and tail) rattling around inside the concrete hardened crust like a dice in a cup...
But there was also she who was later to be known elsewhere variously as 'The Money Monster' or 'Mrs Doubtfire'....
On the subject of food, I'm amazed that anyone would swap an ACC (Chicken curry and rice) for an S1 box - particularly during the era of the Robirch pork pie. Which would often be so stale that if you shook it, you could hear the congealed lump of ex-piggy (trotters and tail) rattling around inside the concrete hardened crust like a dice in a cup...
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Ranking vegetables.
This is how it was explained to me when I joined up in the early seventies...
Officers' beans... Mung beans, cooked in Champagne.
SNCO's beans... Heinz beans (Heated, but not boiled)
Airmens' beans... Tesco value beans (Boiled well)
Could be different these days, I guess.
This is how it was explained to me when I joined up in the early seventies...
Officers' beans... Mung beans, cooked in Champagne.
SNCO's beans... Heinz beans (Heated, but not boiled)
Airmens' beans... Tesco value beans (Boiled well)
Could be different these days, I guess.
Mr Beagle, your #78,
At an average of 278 days a year being fed ACC as my "standard fare" a butty box now and again never went amiss. I never experienced the joy of the rattling pork pie, unfortunately, perhaps that was the preserve of commissioned types
I must admit, Lynehams in flight catering took some beating.
Smudge
At an average of 278 days a year being fed ACC as my "standard fare" a butty box now and again never went amiss. I never experienced the joy of the rattling pork pie, unfortunately, perhaps that was the preserve of commissioned types
I must admit, Lynehams in flight catering took some beating.Smudge