The Kukri - Ayo Gorkhali!

This was going to be quite different; however it's a miserable grotty wet day so I think I'm entitled to a chuckle at my own expense. If you have the time and inclination read on. Kukri Large

The Royal Marines and the Parachute Regiment work hard at retaining bragging rights about their relative merits. Both parties will without question work well alongside each other, BUT if there is one fighting force that they would rather have on their other flank it has to be the Gurkhas. At this point there is usually a patronising remark made, by the ill-informed, about, "the little men from Nepal." They may, in the main be shorter than the average height of a UK soldier, but what they lack in height they make up for in heart, endurance and courage. The Gurkha is feared by any enemy they encounter, they are never intimidated, and their byword is "Better to die than be a coward."

I have seen a demonstration of the Kukri in use. The attacker wielded it in a fierce wide figure of 8 arc which made me wonder what it would be like to face a few hundred of these men, at night when they were determined to do their damnedest to spoil your evening.

My pet theory is that young retired Gurkhas should be offered jobs as PCSOs if they so wish. Placed in married quarters in groups of 10 or 12 families on 'sink estates' and advised what result is required. Then left to get on with the task. Bonuses for rapid clearance rates of drug, theft and alcohol problems would be guaranteed.

This Kukri was bought in 1982 from the Gurkha base in Brunei. As a former Royal Marine Sgt I was always aware of the pride a Gurkha has in himself and his Regiment. As I approached the front gate guard I raised myself to my full height of 5'- 8½", the Gurkha came to attention and asked, "May I help you Sir?" "Good morning Rifleman, yes please, where will I find the Quartermasters stores?" His correct rank and title had been used, his face was wreathed in a huge smile and he directed me to the QM. On my return I paused to let him know he was immaculate and a credit to his unit.

What about that chuckle? That Kukri has been within arms reach of my bedside since I purchased it. My house, you break in, you suffer the consequences. So, about 5 years ago, about this time of year the house alarm activated at 0610, that's ten minutes past "Oh my God it's early" for you civilians. I leapt out of my pit, grabbed the Kukri and leapt around the house like a naked demented Viking Silverback intent on keeping A&E busy for the next few hours. Nothing, Nada, Niente. The next morning, 0610, Sophia Loren had finally persuaded me it was about time I gave in to her blandishments, when the howl of the alarm tore me from her rather cosy bosom. Once more, naked, maddened and uttering the filthiest language possible I hurled myself about our wee house Kukri in hand. Nothing. The lounge sensor had however been triggered.

Day three of the saga, at 0600 I sat in the lounge, fully kitted up, ready for WW3. The heating came on. At 0610 a very large spider left the warmth of the curtains and walked across the alarm sensor, all hell let loose. I didn't use the Kukri on him, just the Dyson.

The link will take you to a page which has a very eloquent description of the knife and it's accoutrements. Ayo Gorkhali!

Kukri.