"Eet is situated immediately in front of ze big teeth, no?"A French bloke who lived across the road was a Legionnaire, he was very impressed with himself. There was a huge dog up the road and the Legionnaire told me how he was taught to deal with a dangerous dog attack.
"The nose" he said.
"Oh yeah" says I
"You grasp ze nose and ze dog she is helpless, no?" he said
"You do know where a dogs nose is situated" I asked, miming, a bit condescendingly in retrospect
It was the twist at the end that got me.A French bloke who lived across the road was a Legionnaire, he was very impressed with himself. There was a huge dog up the road and the Legionnaire told me how he was taught to deal with a dangerous dog attack.
"The nose" he said.
"Oh yeah" says I
"You grasp ze nose and ze dog she is helpless, no?" he said
"You do know where a dogs nose is situated" I asked, miming, a bit condescendingly in retrospect
and like other stories of military glory we never spoke of this again
The dog up the road was run over by a bin lorry
This 'see you next Tuesday' caught himself out, by wearing a Saudi 'liberation of Kuwait' gong, that was never officially permitted to be worn in public, plus the D.S.O. gong with palm (would have been mentioned in dispatches). Total bell end, would have been prosecuted under the 1955 law, that prohibited the wearing of honours / kit, not earned,
http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1955/18/pdfs/ukpga_19550018_en.pdf
if it wasn't for the fact that that law was superceded by the 2006 version, 2 days before he pulled off this 'miracle'. He still got 300 hrs community service though. Massive tool.
You remind me of a bit in one of Spike Milligan's war memorials, where he describes an almost out-of-body experience, when he suddenly thought something like: 'Here I am, hundreds of miles from home, in a wonderful restaurant on a hillside overlooking the bay of Capri on a balmy evening at sunset after a day of glorious sunshine, with the stars just beginning to come out over the bay, surrounded by beautiful women, eating delicious food and drinking rich red wine...and if it wasn't for the war, I'd probably be living on potatoes and cabbages and working in a rundown menswear shop in Catford.'Whilst gran braved the horrors of the blitz, rationing, doodlebugs and V2 rockets, grandad buggered off to Belgium, Egypt, Libya, Sicily, Italy, France, Belgium (again) and finally Germany. Oh the shame.
My Granddad never spoke about his time in the war, that I can recall. I found out from my mum that he served on a destroyer in the Arctic convoys and his brother went down with his ship after a U-boat strike.
More impressive than that is the fact that he got riddled with it on shore leave.....three times
A lot of HGV drivers are ex forces and like people to know it. There was one checking his freight in at Aberdeen airport last week in front of me at the goods in office handing in his paper work.
Office clerk "There's a mistake on your paperwork driver".
Him "Yes, you can tell I'm an ex marine, all brawn and no brain, ho ho" (he was about 5' 1" and looked like a good breeze would have blown him over).
Clerk "Registration number please driver".
Him "Sierra Foxtrot one two, Victor Bravo Romeo".
Clerk "OK, go sit in your cab driver".
Him "I hope I'm out of here by seventeen thirty hours; that's shore leave time".
Me; yawwwwwn, mutters under breath "pratt".
I used to read Warlord comic and I've still got my secret agent code book somewhere in the loft.