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More HumourTaken from Marty's great book"A Look At The Bright Side"ISBN 0-7316-4237-6"DETONATING DUNNIES"The latrines had to be burnt off about once a week and this was accomplished by pouring in a quantity of diesel fuel and igniting it with some burning rag or paper. The smell created and which lingered for the rest of the day is one of those that etches itself into the memory and is quite unmistakable. Ignition was sometimes not easy to achieve and this was overcome by the mixing of some petrol with the dieseline. On the occasion a sergeant (Sergeant Stokes) visited the latrine and being a smoker, did afterwards with his cigarette butt as many smokers do in that position, You guessed it, the mixture of diesel and petrol had not been previously lit and in the heat of the day there had been vapourisation of the petrol. In the daytime the only garments we wore were our hats, shorts and boots and so the sergeant had been, in effect, sitting naked, not that this would have been entirely apparent because he had enough hair on his back and chest to rival an orangutan. The ignition of the vapours by the discarded butt was more akin to the exhaust of a Phantom fighterbomber with the afterburners switched on rather than that of an explosion. Nevertheless it was sufficient to hurl the stocky little bloke into the air, then he rolled smouldering down the steep sand hill. Luckily he survived with superficial burns and a loss of much hair. Despite being a decent sort of bloke the sergeant's misfortune provided much amusement for the rest of the camp as well as a cautionery lesson. PAUL WEAVER. R.A. SIGS. 1966-67 ![]() BAGGY ARSEPETER RUSSELL "HE MUST HAVE THREE OF THEM"Throwing his voice up ten octaves he yelled, "Private Treblecock". No answer. Again he screamed, "Treblecock", still no response. Hyland marched across to a digger in the front rank, stopped two inches from his nose and whispered quietly. "What's your name, soldier?" "Treblecoe, sergeant." "How do you spell it, son?" "TREBLECOCK" was the timid reply. Hyland's face went a lighter shade of pale. He looked Private Treblecock square in the eyes and screamed: "In my book that spells Treblecock and when I call it you answer. UNDERSTAND." "Yes sergeant," was the meek response. FRANK MOORE, SRAR. "EYES RIGHT"LORRAE DESMOND, Aussie Entertainer, NUI DAT
"LADIES REMAIN SEATED"Enter the pretty young lady had the troops halfout of their heads with her music and sensuous gyrations, she retired to her latrine to do what narure commands. Waiting for her was this particular sergeant, transmitter in hand. He gave her five minutes start and said through the microphone: "Hang on there, darling, we're still digging down here!" She came out a lot quicker than she went in, giving this lecherous 'snake' a glimpse of something he hadn't seen since he left Australia some months beforehand. ANON. ![]() |
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