Some men fulfil their destiny, due to the support of a wonderful wife, others, despite the ‘’support’’ of wonderful wife. Again somewhere in Germany in the late 70's
The Squadron’ decided to have a Church Sunday, followed by a curry lunch. The majority of the Squadron had been to previous Church Sunday’s, and as the Catholic service always finished 15 minuets before the C of E, this resulted in the Catholics always got to the bar first. It is surprising haw many members of the Squadron changed sides as a result of this.
Going to church can be thirsty work, all that singing on a dry throat (and an empty stomach), so it wasn’t surprising that it took several drinks to return to ‘’normal’’.
Obviously elated by attending church, the lunch soon developed a party atmosphere. It wasn’t long before laughter resonated throughout the room.
The Sergeant Major, doing his ‘’morale culling’’ tour of the room, and whom, may I add, could single handily bring joy and laughter to any room, merely by his absence, walked over to my new wife Pat who was always conspicuous by being in position of one of those laughs that could wake the dead.
‘’Judging by that laugh’’ he side,’’ you must be Mrs SwillyBilly.’’
’’Don’t tell me, …………. piggy eyes, bad breath, ………….talking shit, you must be the Sergeant Major’’ came the reply.
Nice one Pat love thats my promotion curtailed for a couple of years
