Caz and Principles 1

Denzel dropped me yesterday. It’s difficult to Blip when unconscious. 

This is the Gawjus and hilarious Caz. She works for Di in the village Florist. For many years I thought Di and Caz were sisters, it transpires they are not related. That’s Cornwall for you!

Principles 1 Extra the back of a French army truck climbing into the Alps to join the Chasseurs Alpines, the French Mountain Troops. I Blipped about a cold trip to Corsica. On the first afternoon the Recce Troop was dropped off by helicopter and we climbed to our new Pied a Terre. As we watched and protected them the rest of the unit was delivered by private helicopters, all belonging to HM Queen Inc. All the lads carried was their fighting order and rifles, about 21Kg. The main fighting unit, 300 men were investing the mountain as quickly as possible before dark. The helicopters continued to pour in with the lad’s heavy kit; dropping it in three locations. 
As I wrote previously, we had made an egregious error, we thought we were at 3000 feet but were at 3000 metres. It became cold, then colder and finally chuffing freezing, that was probably because it was December. During the night our small sections, 3 - 4 men, moved off, located the fighting companies, which were organised in three troops of approximately 30 men each, then one troop at a time led them back down the mountain to collect their gear. Once rigged we took them back. Slow hard work for all of us. 
After a very hard, cold night I was ready for a mug of tea. Best bone china. I was bone, as were my mates, collapsed in a heap while we cleaned weapons and got ready to shift. Standing near us and very obviously suffering in the severe minus lots temperature was a Royal Marine officer dressed far too lightly for the climate, he was a NATO Umpire for the exercise. I said I’d make him a coffee. The lads went ape. He had been the Adjutant at the Commando Training Centre. The reason we were always immaculate was due to him and his drill instructors; he was hated, but it had been his task to instil discipline and standards. I argued for helping him but was put in my place; junior will do what he’s told! 
For the next 38 years I would mentally beat myself up for that act of cowardice, we were all Marines, we looked after each other. One evening I was told that the man, now a retired Colonel and a dozen former officers would pass near our house on the coastal footpath. The next morning Elaine and I were there, waiting. Out of the mist a group of rugged chaps appeared. I approached and wished them good morning, naming the Colonel. They formed an arc around him and I put my hands up. When I said, “Sir, do you remember Corsica December 1972?” The atmosphere changed. He told the same story, explaining he was totally ill equipped, having left UK at the rush. I told my tale, apologised profusely, for my abject inability to take care of him. Later we parted, both had relived a bad time for us but we had shaken hands with good wishes and my thanks to him for his understanding. 
Since that long ago day I have followed Polonius’ advice to Laertes, “To thine own self be true.” Old Bill Shakespeare knew a thing or two.