The Pleasure of Company

While I make no secret of my disdain for X, today it has been a source of unbridled pleasure, with bonus points as I see my thoughts are not rattling around all alone. OK, I know what that says about great minds, and the full quote puts it into perspective. However, a great many people have been joining the dots and coming up with the same image as me. And it’s not a dog playing poker.

A Tale of Two Armies

Perhaps it was timing, coming the day after Trooping the Colour, but after witnessing the full military precision, the pomp and circumstance, the spit and polish, the polished brass and the clipped commands. Sparkling boots that stomped in unison and sounded as one. The British Army, with its chest plumped out and full of pride. Anything else could only hope not to look amateur.

Nevertheless, the sight of the United States Army ambling along like it was out for a Sunday walk was quite a shock. More pantomime than pomp, it was the US yin to the British yang. I can honestly say I’ve seen the regulars of my old local leave the pub at closing time with better coordination. And that’s after ten pints of Kronenbourg. This, from a regular army. More uncool than Uncle Sam.

Three Little Letters

So how I laughed as I read the comments. The Commander-in-Chief, cut down to size by the one acronym you won’t find in the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) or the King’s Regulations. Now, as we all know, the military has a thing for acronyms. I first encountered this one way back in the ’80s when I was a sparkly, bright thing full of annoying enthusiasm.

The old salts even had it embroidered, in tiny letters, on their tie, just to hammer home the point. Those three little letters could derail careers and might even have brought the mighty British Army of the Rhine (BAOR) to its knees, had it been so inclined. That Donald was shot in the foot by it makes my heart sing. There is a god, and they have a sense of humour.

Not Fucking Interested

Not Fucking Interested (NFI). You won’t find it on any official records, but dig deep on the military blogs and you’ll find the odd reference. Not that anyone who has served needs a definition. It is the voice of the little man. The poke in the eye to authority. The spanner in the works and the grit in the machine.

What I witnessed in the 1980s was akin to an unofficial military doctrine, the tip of the iceberg. There is a way of doing things, and woe betide any officer, or even the Commander-in-Chief himself, if they put themselves above that hallowed order of battle.

The Parade That Wasn’t

It’s clear from watching the clips of Donald’s day out and his big, beautiful birthday parade that the Army wanted no part in this charade. They had no official veto, so they turned to the unofficial military one that had been off the books for years.

I’m sure that many units could (almost) give the Coldstream Guards a run for their money, but after Trooping the Colour, not a chance. Not a cat’s chance in hell. Any other of the 364 days, take the 3rd US Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard), for instance. They were both at the parade and have an impressive Drill Team. Yet the assembled masses of the US Army chose to rain on Donald’s parade metaphorically, and in the only way they could.

The Ultimate Cold Shoulder

What a debrief that must have been. How I would have liked to be a fly on the wall for that interview without coffee. From the photos, it’s clear Trump’s pissed, but I don’t think he has any idea what happened. Out of his depth in only way a man who never served, never could, would. Not a Scooby. No idea. No idea that ALL armies work like this.

The US Army chose to flip their commander-in-chief; the metaphorical bird by ditching all military precision by taking on the persona of the Keystone Cops. While the marching may have been somewhat slovenly, definitely amateur, out of step, tick-tocking (if you know, you know), it was still impressive.

In Step to Say No

Impressive to see such an organisation so in step, acting as one and with such precision. Telling the chief where he could put his fucking parade. You know where, where the sun don’t shine, in the only way it could. And for that, I salute them.

A Birthday to Remember

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday, US Army,
Happy Birthday to you.