Arctic Charmers

The Arctic chill has descended, finally, so as promised to Ms CarolineJay and various others may I present my instant cure for chilly Moobs and or Boobs, fluffy tassels. They can be worn inside or outside, doesn't really matter, either way is just as good. They will of course attract heaps of fashionista attention and curled lips.

Ever wonder why two year olds are so stroppy and obnoxious? Ever wonder where in their DNA the "stroppy" gene originated?

1979, when this fair land could still afford to send people away to train for improbable wars we of the 45th Regt of Foot & Mouth, otherwise known as 45 Cdo RM went off as usual for 3 months in the frozen wastes of Norway. Every new comer had to undergo either a complete or refresher Arctic Warfare Survival course. Did mine, got cold, ploughed into snow banks on skis and generally had a chuckle, if a cold one.

Later during the deployment it was decided that everybody had to discover what it would be like if they happened to fall through the ice of a lake whilst skiing. It did happen occasionally when troops on skis were being towed by Volvo tracked vehicles if the ice got too thin. Most of the time the lakes had 3 feet of ice on them. It was decreed from on high that a helicopter would be available to take any casualties immediately to hospital. The routine was for an Arctic Warfare instructor (Read - 'Nutter') to blow a hole, using plastic explosive, the size of a tennis table top in the ice. The lads, wearing just their nicks and white camouflage suits would one at a time ski into the hole, grasp the lower end of their ski poles, drag themselves out of the water then leg it fast into the accommodation where they would be stripped, showered and dosed with a tot of rum.

There is an ancient principle, the 7 "P's" Prior Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. My boss and I had, so far managed to elude the embrace of the icy water, it could turn you into Frankenstein as your nuts ended up in your throat like a pair of bolts and to add insult to injury your heart could stop due to the shock of the cold water. Hence the helicopter. One fine day I sat and watched from the cosy warmth of my aircraft as a troop of the lads did their thing in the water and ice. The Troop Sgt then wandered over with a big smile on his puss. "OK Rob, your turn." "Nah, go on a sexual journey!"

He returned moments later with an irate Troop officer, a Lieutenant RM, steam hissing from his ears. "Sgt are you disobeying my order?"
"Nah, just wishing to point out your error, Sir."
"WHAT!"
"Well I'm sitting here to medevac any heart attack cases to Narvick hospital. So who is going to fly me to Narvick if I have a heart attack?"

Hissy fit time. I missed most of what he said because an Astazou engine makes a lot more noise than a Lieutenant RM. My boss was relieved as he had been expecting us to get cornered into a swim. However, if only one pilot type turned up the rugsy types couldn't make us dive in.

Icy Dip training - follows hovercraft info.