Two Fragments:
1. We were training to become detachment commanders in a mortar platoon. Three of us, one on each tube, each with two other guys in our team. The commander would call out the coordinates and we would shout them back and adjust our mortars accordingly only Stu could never remember them. I would be aligned on the target and he would be stuttering. The punishment was the same every time: The Spitfire. He had to run to the end of the field and back, in each hand an 81mm mortar held out like bombs under the wings of a plane while shouting ‘neeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooorrrrrrrr’. Everyone would be laughing at him; he would be laughing too. We would begin again, the coordinates would be shouted out, I would shout them back and he would stutter. Even with his number 2 writing the digits down and holding them in front of him, he couldn’t do it. Again, the Spitfire. I left and he went on to become a mortar fire controller, he was very good at his job and it was something he wanted to do; he loved being on the net and providing the cover that allowed his mates to get out of trouble.
2.Mac had a hell of a reputation. A fierce soldier and rugby player who scared everyone. He also giggled like a girl and at this point looked like a girl, the kind of big girl squaddies loved. We were in drag and in the mess, I had been sent back to change as I wasn’t allowed to be drinking in a female clerk’s uniform. I returned to find him mincing out of the ladies loo, a true method actor. There we were pinching each other boobs when another group of girls turned up. They looked good, they were big but they clearly knew how to dress, high-heeled shoes the lot. However, this was our bar and we were not going to let those bitches in, well Mac wasn’t, I was fine with the situation. Banter turned to abuse turned to a scrap in the car-park as two bunch of transvestites, one group with better shoes, went toe to toe. Fists were flying, wigs were ripped off and heels used as weapons. Nobody was winning by the time the military police turned up, they didn’t catch us though as we sprinted away in the night to Mac’s infamous ‘HEE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEE’
RIP lads.
Great series of posts – both humourous and moving. Thanks for sharing.