Why it’s called a mess-tin

LAST week the Diary ran a story about a nursing home that reportedly fed mashed-together fish and ice-cream to a resident. This was as nothing, though, compared to some soldiers’ meal-time habits.

Fraser Kelly, recalling a period at Aldershot in the 1980s, says: “Soldiers of some regiments on exercise, when a field kitchen or indeed just normal rations are prepared, tend to cut down on cleaning and mess-kit usage by putting the courses together - in the same mess-tin.

“So the dessert will go in first, and the main course on top, so the courses can be eaten in order”. Some less discerning soldiers just flung both dishes in together, as Fraser saw for himself on exercise with 5 Airborne when he was with 22 Field Hospital.

“Mind you”, he adds, “the level the Paras went to in proving they were hard and needed a lower level of sustenance, was legendary”.

Home thoughts from abroad

MUNGO Henning was in the weary line of passengers at Tenerife airport, heading towards the gate for a 9pm flight back home, when his wife overheard a conversation behind her on the escalator.

A West-of-Scotland-type bloke asked one of his party, “So dae ye want tae go abroad this time next year or dae ye want tae go tae Canada instead?”

That got Mungo thinking. “I suppose the discrimination”, he tells us, “is between an English-speaking destination versus a non-English-speaking one”.

Spellcheck

IAN Noble remembers one of his primary school teachers, back in the fifties, who had an unusual way of checking her pupils’ spelling homework.

She would invite the class to stand and would ask each pupil to spell a word in turn. If they got it right, they sat down. If they got it wrong, they received two of the belt.

“I am convinced to this day”, says Ian, “that that is why my speling is so excelent”.

Stiff penalty

AND Matt Vallance recalls his old PE teacher at Cumnock Academy, Jock ‘Stiffy’ McClure, who famously kept his belt hanging from a hook in his office. The rumour, says Matt, was that he pickled it at weekends to keep it stiff.

If a class become too noisy, Jock would walk around the gym, balancing the tawse on the index finger of his right hand. That did the trick - by the time he got halfway around, the pupils were working hard, and sweating profusely.

“Boy, could he belt”, adds Matt. “The loose-head prop for the First XV, a farmer’s son who was allegedly impervious to pain, was in tears after getting four of the belt from him”.

Shop songs

DIARY readers have been offering some more plays on shop names.

* Show Me the Safeway to Amarillo

* Tesco Round Again (both by Douglas Kirkham, the latter suggestion inspired by an old Average White Band song)

* These Boots Are Made for Walking

* If You Go Down to the Littlewoods Today (both by Keith McClory).

Any more?