The Old Boys club
Hello! I feel like arse at the moment. Very tired, bit of a cold.
This weekend I went to a leadership development course at the batallion headquarters. Good fun, similar to Westbury in the exercises we did, but on the Saturday evening was a regimental dinner function and oh-mi-gawd it was something else.
The full works, silver service, crystal glasses, candle light. Officers and warrants resplendent in their mess-dress. Several colonels dressed in red and gold, one with a splendid moustache and thick glasses. A big brass band playing us tunes and the food was gorgeous. Constant wine top ups, and I was sat next to two young subalterns who regailed me with stories of Sandhurst to whet my appetite for going there.
After the meal was a free bar which finished when the last man left. I stayed til 5, drinking mainly G and T as is the proper thing to do, but later moved on to red wine and as the Commander of the Batallion left he knocked my arm and spilled wine all over my shirt and shoes. When I saw it was him I think I may have said it's ok, it's my fault. He just said it happens, shrugging and walking away - after all I'm nobody and he's a lieutenant Colonel. It didn't matter in the long term, because some time around 4am when most people had left I had a little wrestle with one of the subalterns, both of whom were strong little fellows, and my shirt got ripped and dotted with splats of blood.
Finally left realising that there was little point in staying, and got about 2 or 3 hours of kip before getting up for PT in the snow.
I'm now knackered, but it was an excellent experience.
This weekend I went to a leadership development course at the batallion headquarters. Good fun, similar to Westbury in the exercises we did, but on the Saturday evening was a regimental dinner function and oh-mi-gawd it was something else.
The full works, silver service, crystal glasses, candle light. Officers and warrants resplendent in their mess-dress. Several colonels dressed in red and gold, one with a splendid moustache and thick glasses. A big brass band playing us tunes and the food was gorgeous. Constant wine top ups, and I was sat next to two young subalterns who regailed me with stories of Sandhurst to whet my appetite for going there.
After the meal was a free bar which finished when the last man left. I stayed til 5, drinking mainly G and T as is the proper thing to do, but later moved on to red wine and as the Commander of the Batallion left he knocked my arm and spilled wine all over my shirt and shoes. When I saw it was him I think I may have said it's ok, it's my fault. He just said it happens, shrugging and walking away - after all I'm nobody and he's a lieutenant Colonel. It didn't matter in the long term, because some time around 4am when most people had left I had a little wrestle with one of the subalterns, both of whom were strong little fellows, and my shirt got ripped and dotted with splats of blood.
Finally left realising that there was little point in staying, and got about 2 or 3 hours of kip before getting up for PT in the snow.
I'm now knackered, but it was an excellent experience.