This story is not true, it never happened, and if it did I definitely was not there and I have no knowledge of any such event. Any similarity to any person place or event is purely coincidental, and I mean that in a very legally binding sense.
In the armoured corps a drivers licence is an essential item, you need one to drive things. Obvsiously this is part of the cunning ploy by Soviet era Russians, Al Queda the Teleban, Inland Revenue and other enemies of civilisation to render the armoured mobility of her majesties infantry impotent through the tactical deployment of traffic cops. Therefore losing one’s licence through being found intoxicated could be regarded as a “bad thing”. The example for us all was one soldier who lost his licence for 6 months to a DIC, then got pinged for another 6 months the day after that ran out as a result of his “I got my licence back party”, then followed this up by getting pinged for an additional 9 months the day BEFORE he got his licence back. Having been put in the admin troop to count shit for the duration of the suspension was a non-productive use of a trooper which strained the temper of our Squadron 2IC. The third suspension was the 3 ton bag-o-anvils that broke the camels back.
Trooper “S” was cordially invited to change the colour of his beret to green (infantry) as his services in the armoured corps were no longer required. He elected to catch flight 717 and return to Australia where his record turned out to be considered more of a recommendation than a hindrance, but he is now not part of our story. The rest of us considered that losing our licences to be “bad” as I mentioned, but to not drink was a clear violation of collateral rights and religious beliefs!
Consequently we considered the best option was find somewhere safer to drink… preferably with a patsy driver just in case. We found a handy collection of patsy’s in the form of Bravo and Charlie companies 2/1 RNZIR. After exercise Trojan Horse, in which the RF enemy party had mistaken the regular drivers for territorials and made a habit of running up the front of the wagon to butt stroke them, there had been a period of “err yeah.. sorry bout that” and the regulars had been making a special effort to be nice to us. Like not randomly smacking troopers in the head at the baggies bar and such like. So consequently we acquired a system of getting rides to the West Melton pub with grunt drivers. The West Melton being cunningly located on back roads between Burnham camp and nowhere. Obviously no cop would even bother being on that road because there was no one using it… cept soldiers looking to get home from the West Melton.
The cops were happily bagging a fair haul of infantry drivers who didn’t give a crap because A. There was a lot of them and B. you didn’t need a licence to frikken walk anyway. However there was one guy we got a ride with one night with a guy who had interest in being grounded thanks very much. We figured he was different when we piled in to his Holden the size and apparently speed of the NC1701 as we spotted an apparent baby in the back seat in the blanket. It turned out to be a bean bag baby with plastic head and hands, complete with little booties and blanket. He told us not to worry about it and he’d let us know if we’d need it on the trip home. Glances were exchanged , followed by shrugs as we headed for West Melton at Warp 4. Mr Sulu was an odd chap but the proximity to beer was diminished with speed so who cared.
Our mission to get faceless was achieved in due course and we piled back into the Enterprise for the trip home. This time at a light bending Warp 6 we headed back with all the windows open. We got a clue that it wasn’t going to be a perfect 6 parsecs run when the car was illuminated with a festive red flashing light. After a few moments of collective highbrow discussion we arrived at the agreement that we might have run afoul of the resident constabulary. We commiserated with diver who for some reason was noticeable not slowing down… odd once more. Discussion was held and a deputation questioned our pilot as to what the deal was. He was Han Soloesque in his not slowing downess and consternation and alarm were gathering amongst the roughly 10 or so troopers who were his now unwilling ship mates.
Don’t worry he informed us, I have a plan! Being armoured corps we were naturally sceptical about ANYONE who claimed to have a plan. We’d seen plans, plans were things not conducive to a good nights sleep or health come to that. We all felt that things were in a state of bad and traveling towards shithouse at high speed when announced it was ok, he didn’t have rear plates. We were less than impressed because he seemed to have over looked the obvious factor of the high speed appendage of the law being dynabolted to our bumper.
“Ok… you got that bean bag baby?”
“Err what… yeah I guess… why?”
“Right… throw it out the window!”
Light dawned, out went the bean bag baby and I have to say its little arms flailed most convincingly when it hit the road and spun. The head lights of justice receded in most satisfactory manner and our return to camp was achieved with much hysteria.
If there is a sequel to this story it would detract from the legend of the bean bag baby – which itself is fictional – and far be it for me to undermine this legend.
Teason and aiding the enemy, not misdemeanors.
Add to it the violation of his oath and its good night nurse.
From the Veterans Affairs page:
The first stage of the application process is expected to open in late February/early March. Medals will be issued based on the age of the living ex-Service person. The medals will be sent to the oldest applicants first and to those of any age who are terminally ill. To assist NZDF in ensuring the oldest applicants receive their medals first, it is expected that the initial call will be made for applications from ex-Service personnel over seventy years of age. Any applications received from persons under that age will not be processed and persons should wait until the NZDF advises that the next age group should send in their applications. This is also the case for those applying of behalf of deceased spouses, next of kin etc.
If you are entitled to it then apply for it and wear it. The opinions of people who do not understand what it signifies are of no value. New Zealand has one of the most underdressed armed forces in the world and medalic recognition of service is amongst the lowest. Media coments about what consititues being a “hero” are as offensive as they are ill-informed. You’ve earned it and it wouldn’t hurt to remind the nation this ANZAC Day that a LOT of New Zealanders have served and continue to do so making the day as relevant now as ever.
From the NZDF Medals site:
The intent of the New Zealand Defence Service Medal is to recognise the unique requirements of military service. These requirements include: – commitment to service of the Crown (represented by an oath/affirmation of allegiance),- liability for operational service subject to military discipline and lifestyle,- and imposed constraints on employment conditions and personal freedoms.
look at this softcock would you, the only bloody section commander in the entire New Zealand army to carry his own radio. Bloody pampered is what you lot are.
Is that ape like creature back with independantly operating arms and legs with all the military bearing of a ham sandwich Harris the aledged medic? The standign order was that if I was wounded someone had to shoot Harris asap in order to preserve my life. (I had the radio so I was important.)
Are you a New Zealand ex-serviceman?
Did you spend more than ten minutes in one of the armed services? If so you are probably up for a medal. The New Zealand Defence Force Medal is an also ran decoration for everyone who did their bit without the added bonus of an overseas deployment or the special thrill that comes with getting shot at. (Which by the way is an entirely different thrill to getting shot – See Winston Chruchill for details or the scare on my forehead for an example.)
Anyway, the survey has been done and we’re awaiting a decision. Of course once we get that:
… themedal and ribbon will still need to be manufactured.
The NZDF Medals Office expects a large number of people to apply for the medal and, even with extra staff to process the applications, this could potentially be a two to three year project.
Blah blah get in line. Or just check back here and I’ll let you know when its ready.
Just as an aside this will make my brother the only one who doesn’t have a medal. That’ll teach him to do his time in the IDF. Nyah nyah nyah!