fromSpecial Operations Executive (a.k.a. The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare)
(a secret dossier within the Admiralty and tip-top secret, although that chap in the mess-hall named Freddie Frobisher read my copy while I was buttering my scone. He had round eyes, and therefore is obviously not an enemy spy)
The SOE was formed from the merger of three existing secret departments, which had been formed during the Tau War.
1) Immediately after the invasion of Upper Leeds, the Foreign Office created a propaganda organisation known as DWRFSMRATEP (acronym for Department With Responsibility For Spreading Malicious Rumours About The Emperor's Parentage), run by elements of Intelligence.
2) Intelligence later formed a section to investigate the use of sabotage, propaganda and other irregular means to weaken an enemy. This group was comprised primarily of elements of the scattered Preventitive Squadron.
3) The War Office planted yours truly within Stuart's Privateers for the purpose of research into guerrilla warfare, with my command initially limited to re-fitted trade vessels, posing as workaday pirates and privateers.
My lapsed literary career may yet be radically redeemable. I penned the pursuant paragraphs during a particularly pacific patrol...
Phwoar! Horse!
or Fifty Shades of Dung
A tale of a young Stallion's special Friendship with an an older and wartier old Military man who carried a Riding-Crop although not for the purposes one normally expects of such a thing.
The first time we tried to "saddle" him he sent two men to hospital, and not for antibiotics as is the custom for the younger and pinker recruits who have been unsuccessful in a mounting in Lady Imelda Perineum's House of Squeals and Bodices.
It wasn't viciousness: he was young and as full of spunk as a cabin boy who has revealed himself to be an ambitious and career-oriented young woman in an incognito quest for alternative and more military career paths but who has been remiss in perfecting the pasting on of facial hair and is unmasked while the less gentlemanly crew are enjoying double rations of grog.
He had never been backed before; he didn't understand. I neighed loudly at his protestations.
He only knew an unmolested life on a Cambridge farm, and the sudden change upset him. The herding down to the barracks and the long stifling voyage up to the front must have been unpleasantly strange.
He landed at a malarial little anus called Leeds, and, the day after, was handed over with a batch of remounts to the Queen's Own. He came to my squadron, and I picked him out as a charger because his head and ears, fine muzzle, and wide nostrils showed breeding. My orderly christened him Jaws, mainly, I think, because the first thing he did was to bite him in the seat of the breeches.
He certainly was a vicious little shagger at the beginning. His was the nervous kind of temperament one should have cooly coaxed. But we hadn't time for that; we had to be ruthless as Richard.
He soon gave in. In three days he was ridable, so long as you wore chaps, and when, on the fourth, we started off, I took him as my "charger", minus underpants of course.
A rather nasty dose of Pangalactic Fluremic Batsouppangolintoast Virus has laid yours truly up. One had to phlegm and spit one's way to the hangar this morning through a throng of biohazard suits. A putrid working class sawbones demanded that we respect "social distance" however we asserted that the correct distance to be maintained between my honourable self and his filthy prole fellows was at least three levels on the social hierarchy ladder, a decent measure of laissez-faire economic planning and a social policy that would make a Caesar blush. Needless to say, I threatened to shoot the man. It is amazing how this social distancing thing is so easy to effect once one produce's one's personal firearm and changes the setting from "Pink Cheeked Spanking" to "Truly Shagged".
Cough again, sah!
The last time we had a fever this pronounced was after the fabled debagging party for Cholmondley-Sackston we held at that seraglio in New Cairo. Who knew that a monkey was capable of such acts of passion! And with a mango too! We were itching for weeks! Woof!