Boots, Noisy

"It's awful gentlemen, it is Ucking awful!"

Sergeant Major 'Rosie' Rose waved his pace stick threateningly at the squad of new recruits stood to attention before him. As drill instructor, he'd been charged with the task of teaching us marching and drill movements - and he was not having much success to date.

We all knew the reason why: Private Alfred Lillywhite - the most hopeless recruit in the Territorial Army.

With a permanent hangdog expression on his face, always looking down at the ground. 18 years old going on 14. No social or life skills, couldn't even lace his boots up, hopeless at drill - a total misfit in military life.

"Why the hell did you join up?" we asked of him.

"My dad signed me up - said it would make a man of me" he sadly answered.

Then there was his boots. Yes, therein lies the crux of the problem. His mum went to the local army surplus store and bought him a nice pair of army boots as a joining up present. The problem was they were old stock hobnail boots, the metal studs on the soles. We were all issued with the latest rubber soled boots.

Now on the parade ground all we could hear was clank, clank, clank as his hobnails hit the ground - always out of time with the rest of the squad. It messed up our progress and infuriated Rosie. He gave him the nickname: Boots, Noisy.

"Boots, Noisy, get in step!" Rosie would yell countless times across the parade ground - to no effect.

Then news of our incompetence had reached the dreaded Regimental Sergeant Major McDonald. A no-nonsense NCO who didn't suffer fools gladly - or anyone else for that matter. We froze as we saw him marching smartly towards us on the parade ground. He was going to take charge of a marching test.

"Luft, Riot! Luft, Riot!" he screamed as we set off on our march to nowhere - assuming he was meaning Left, Right, but nobody would dare to correct his pronunciation. It was the usual shambles. He quickly identified Boots, Noisy as the source of the problem. We were halted and he marched straight up to him.

"Where the 'ell did you get those boots from lad?" he shouted.

A feeble reply from Boots, Noisy: "My mum gave them to me, Sir."

RSM McDonald looked him up and down, shook his head and screamed:

"Well that was her second mistake!"