Rupert
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I don't suppose I could let this QOTW go by without posting at least one Army story. Even though I was only in for a short while, the sheer amount of fuckwits I met hasn't been surpassed by any organisation since. A case in point was my first officer or "Rupert" as they were know.

My Rupert was fresh from university and then six months in Sandhurst. Then we got him. He was a prime fuckwit. Public School bray and less sense than than a mong. He had a penchant for mud. He loved the fucking stuff and he loved marching us through it on every possible occasion.

On exercise once, in the middle of February he had us practising formation attacks through a fucking swamp. Ice cracking beneath our feet, wind howling and then "DOWN" and we had to hit the deck into the freezing mud and water. 5 guys shipped back to unit with hypothermia in two days. Lovely.

Still, we did have some fun with the thick twat. He was a sucker for "saluting traps". We'd hide ourselves in bushes lining the route to the officers mess and, as he was walking to his dinner, we'd pop out at predetermined intervals and salute. And he'd salute back. Then another guy would pop out and salute and he'd salute back and so on. The net effect was him walking up the road with his hand going backwards and forwards like a demented tic-tac man.

Another thing we did to drive him crazy was salute his uniform when he was in the barracks. He'd given us this stern lecture on why saluting was important and that we weren't saluting him, we were saluting the uniform and all it represented. So, when we went in his office, for any reason, we'd close the door, turn our backs on the seated Rupert and salute the coat hanging on the door. It used to drive him battty. But he never twigged on we were taking the piss - he just thought we were stupid.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 25 Jan 2008, 5:31, 5 replies)

I know the feeling!
I briefly dabbled with the TA, and encountered a similar member of the species. Demanded a Sir despite the fact we were all out of uniform, outside the NAAFI, and butted in on a conversation that wasn't even about or including him as a participant, demanding to know what we were talking about. Complete cockend. Apparently one of the sergeants did get his revenge, I never did find out how.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 25 Jan 2008, 5:51, closed)

Demented Tic-Tac Man
*Click*
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 25 Jan 2008, 11:48, closed)

Satuting the uniform
"He'd given us this stern lecture on why saluting was important and that we weren't saluting him, we were saluting the uniform and all it represented. So, when we went in his office, for any reason, we'd close the door, turn our backs on the seated Rupert and salute the coat hanging on the door"

Nice one. If ever you read Spike Milligan's "Adolf Hitler, My Part in His Downfall" a halfwitted batman is described as doing just that.

Click
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 25 Jan 2008, 11:54, closed)

There Are No New Jokes...
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I'm pretty sure Milligan was where the idea came from. And saluting traps have been part of a squaddies armoury since Roman times. Probably.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 25 Jan 2008, 13:04, closed)

ha ha
*click*
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 27 Jan 2008, 11:33, closed)