Stories!

[bodie]

I did later on learn how to shoot left eyed, just in case.

Also learned how to shoot "left eyed" and qualified for my balkie quite early.

The SADF also got my blood type wrong on my records. I'm a universal recipient so it didn't matter. The only time I got blood I told them first and they said, "Lucky you, we just so happen to have one of your type!".

Odd about your blood type, I am likewise a Universal Recipient (AB Pos) and was one of 3 in our company during basics.

[bodie]

Had to be there

we had this guy in our platoon his name was winterbach ,i served with him for 2 years,now this huy also had a bad stuttering problem,his Engkish was not very good at tyhe best of times ,he was and still is a good friend.

Anyway Winterbach was also quite the skinny guy and he had this dry sense of humour when he could get a sentance out.Our RSM before we deployed in to Angola said to us that we where to have an inspection in our tents.What we did not know he was coming around just asking as about our families and first names.

Winterbachs first name was Ignacious ,winterbach stuttered on the letter I

RSM came into our tent

"Winterbach whats your first name"

IIIGGGGGGGNNNNNN, sigh

"Winterbach take a deep breath and try again"

IIIIIIGGGGGNNNNNNNNN sigh again then he replied

"RSM FOCK THAT CALL ME WINTERBACH "

You had to be there

Thanks for that ... had me rofl ... :))

[tankie]

With your standards Tankie, I'm not surprised.

Thank you :P

[tankie]

Beggers can't be choosers...You where lucky to get some of them :)) :))

Yea , i know , my wallet was extremely good looking and virile

Hey sodjer boy ,me love you long time ,, 5 dollar .

[tankie]

Major,

Yes, we all could lived off of Army issued meal packs ... but who wants to?

Very true Col , i remember when going on exercise to sunny saltau , we were loading our scimitars with our kit when the then Cmdr Cpl B butel as was , sent his wife to the naffi for ( civvy rations ) we all chipped in about 20 mks , and she came back with ( oh by the way she was an Irish girl ) frozen fish fingers etc etc , now remind me on , just where the f\ck was the freezer situated on a scimitar , Dave can you help LOL , anyway,bob threw them ,followed by a few choice words ,

Awwwww ,but bless her , how was she to know we were,nt as wealthy as the yanks and could afford freezers , and whirlpool baths on board our tanks ?

[Spec6]

Story of swomething that happened years ago at Fort Knoxs

As I was told by a friend who was an MP on the post pack in the early 70's

The Base bank was robbed by some guys and they took off down Dixia Highway . The post had an scout helo in the sky flowing them and the car started to fire at him .
The poilt was home from nam only like a couple of days and started to scream over the radio he was takeing fire . Well there was a couple of Cobras at the range and they were home from nam under a month and they left the range and head to help out the fellow Helo poilt .
The Jokers in the Car started to take shots a the lead Cobra who forgot were he was and returned fire on the Fleeing auto . The MP told me this Helo poilt open up with his Roickets pods on the car . When he was done there was no car there anymore .

[Officer of Engineers]

I strongly doubt that is true. US Forces are forbidden by law to engage in military/police actions unless directly ordered by Washington.

[Spec6]

I strongly doubt that is true. US Forces are forbidden by law to engage in military/police actions unless directly ordered by Washington.

Well as I said it was a story I heared from a Friend who was a MP there in the early 70's . As he put it the scout helo was just to follow the auto and let the highway patrol pull them over .

[Officer of Engineers]

That's a bit different than from a smoking hole in the ground.

[furkensturker]

Got my own back

I was posted to the sharp end Townsville nth Queensland, part of the ODF (overseas deployment force), For some reason, I had the ability to get myself in the siht fairly often. As punishment for something I did wrong, myself and a mate were sent to pick up a pig, straight after a ceremonial parade while still dressed in best clothes, to be taken to the local abitors to be killed for an up coming unit function, being a spit roast.

We were told to "pick up the pig and come back to HQ for details of the abitor". When we stopped outside HQ, I was in the back of the landrover holding a fully grown sow pig who figured now was the time to escape. She made a dash for the open back of the landrover but there was no way known I was letting her go. I crash tackled her to the floor and held her there until my mate came back. The pig squealed and squealed, as pigs do, very very loudly.

The CSM, who had it in for me bellowed from his office door, "furkensturker, stop f&*#%!$ that pig. Yeah, good joke, not.

When we arrived at the Abitors, one of the workers had a hammer type of marking device, you put your name in letter stamps in this hammer, put dye into the handle and hit the pig a few times, giving it an instant tattoo so as to ID the owner. You know when you have a great idea and you think, "this is going to be great?" I grabbed the hammer and made the word CSM HARVY. Harvy being the first name of the CSM.

I belted that pig so many times the Abitor worker had to stop me because he thought I was being too cruel. The pig was white, but when I had finished with it, it had almost as much blue dye as white skin.

A week later, I had forgotten about the stamping episode until I arrived at the area pool where the spit roast was being held. The first person I ran into was the OC (Major) with a big grin on his face. He pulled me aside and said he heard the CSM bellow at me and thought it was uncalled for and felt the stamping was a great come back. It gave me great delight to see the pig going round and round and watching "CSM HARVY" all over the pig as it rotated. A week later I saw the CSM in a pub in town and he told me it was the best come back he had seen. After that we became friends, but he was still a prick.

Freddie

[bodie]

Pickled beetroot salad

We were out on a short 7 day platoon patrol in Northern Owamboland when we hit contact with a rather strong group of terrs. Now these okes walked fighting patrols in numbers around 200 so odds were against us.
They bombshelled and left us with a hot pursuit into Angola.

Kit got dumped with one Buffel and the rest grabbed water and ammo and hit the trail.

14 days later we were still fighting, with one air resupply plenty of ammunition, water and a crate of, you guessed it, pickled beetroot salad.

Burned it, ate it hot, cold, curried, with fuggin sand in it, still tasted like bleeding beetroot. *yuck*

All this while the gooks had European tuna and oysters, seriously.

All in all out little hot pursuit ended in quite along period of activity with us eventually in Zambia, forming stopper groups for the Swapo cadres that tried to escape across the river - fish in a barrel.


To this day the sight of it (dang picked beetroot salad) brings back that patrol.

[bodie]

Bugani Nridge

WE pulled a duty at this bridge one Christmas, an experimental farm showing the locals how to farm actually, anyhow I seen the biggest pigs on that farm in my life.

Anyhow we get invited to the farm for Christmas lunch so we split the watch duties and off we go.

Nice roast port with crackling and wine and off we go.
AS we leave they start a movie (Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho)

Now I know one of my mates *Yurie* is a real scaredy cat for such things, soo I decide to pull a fast one on him ... movie ends and he wanders down from the farm (in the dark) toward tent of which I had conveniently screwed out the light bulbs.

In the dark he opens his mossie-net and as he climbs in I sit up and let out this blood curdling scream --hehehehe Yurie turns and runs (swathed in mossie net ) screaming down the path, over the fence and into the pig sty.

I think it took about 2 hours to convince him that it was safe to come back to the tent.

Screwed myself over as I had to stand the rest of his watch.

Was worth it though :))

[sappersgt]

Meat on the hoof...paw, claw, whatever.

We were out on a short 7 day platoon patrol in Northern Owamboland when we hit contact with a rather strong group of terrs. Now these okes walked fighting patrols in numbers around 200 so odds were against us.
They bombshelled and left us with a hot pursuit into Angola.

Kit got dumped with one Buffel and the rest grabbed water and ammo and hit the trail.

14 days later we were still fighting, with one air resupply plenty of ammunition, water and a crate of, you guessed it, pickled beetroot salad.

Burned it, ate it hot, cold, curried, with fuggin sand in it, still tasted like bleeding beetroot. *yuck*

All this while the gooks had European tuna and oysters, seriously.

All in all out little hot pursuit ended in quite along period of activity with us eventually in Zambia, forming stopper groups for the Swapo cadres that tried to escape across the river - fish in a barrel.


To this day the sight of it (dang picked beetroot salad) brings back that patrol.

On one long patrol after a week of eating nothing but mealie, the life of any small animal that wandered into our AO was in dire peril. I commented to my CO that the men were so hungry, if any large animal wandered in try not get caught in the cross fire!

[tankie]

I was posted to the sharp end Townsville nth Queensland, part of the ODF (overseas deployment force), For some reason, I had the ability to get myself in the siht fairly often. As punishment for something I did wrong, myself and a mate were sent to pick up a pig, straight after a ceremonial parade while still dressed in best clothes, to be taken to the local abitors to be killed for an up coming unit function, being a spit roast.

We were told to "pick up the pig and come back to HQ for details of the abitor". When we stopped outside HQ, I was in the back of the landrover holding a fully grown sow pig who figured now was the time to escape. She made a dash for the open back of the landrover but there was no way known I was letting her go. I crash tackled her to the floor and held her there until my mate came back. The pig squealed and squealed, as pigs do, very very loudly.

The CSM, who had it in for me bellowed from his office door, "furkensturker, stop f&*#%!$ that pig. Yeah, good joke, not.

When we arrived at the Abitors, one of the workers had a hammer type of marking device, you put your name in letter stamps in this hammer, put dye into the handle and hit the pig a few times, giving it an instant tattoo so as to ID the owner. You know when you have a great idea and you think, "this is going to be great?" I grabbed the hammer and made the word CSM HARVY. Harvy being the first name of the CSM.

I belted that pig so many times the Abitor worker had to stop me because he thought I was being too cruel. The pig was white, but when I had finished with it, it had almost as much blue dye as white skin.

A week later, I had forgotten about the stamping episode until I arrived at the area pool where the spit roast was being held. The first person I ran into was the OC (Major) with a big grin on his face. He pulled me aside and said he heard the CSM bellow at me and thought it was uncalled for and felt the stamping was a great come back. It gave me great delight to see the pig going round and round and watching "CSM HARVY" all over the pig as it rotated. A week later I saw the CSM in a pub in town and he told me it was the best come back he had seen. After that we became friends, but he was still a prick.

Freddie

:)) Hey porky , im beginning to like you :))

[Shamus]

WE pulled a duty at this bridge one Christmas, an experimental farm showing the locals how to farm actually, anyhow I seen the biggest pigs on that farm in my life.

Anyhow we get invited to the farm for Christmas lunch so we split the watch duties and off we go.

Nice roast port with crackling and wine and off we go.
AS we leave they start a movie (Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho)

Now I know one of my mates *Yurie* is a real scaredy cat for such things, soo I decide to pull a fast one on him ... movie ends and he wanders down from the farm (in the dark) toward tent of which I had conveniently screwed out the light bulbs.

In the dark he opens his mossie-net and as he climbs in I sit up and let out this blood curdling scream --hehehehe Yurie turns and runs (swathed in mossie net ) screaming down the path, over the fence and into the pig sty.

I think it took about 2 hours to convince him that it was safe to come back to the tent.

Screwed myself over as I had to stand the rest of his watch.

Was worth it though :))