Angry Ginger Bastard - at the request of mr mike

 

Timeline:

Early 2008 : 10 weeks in Afghanistan (tour presumably curtailed when the press got wind of his deployment.)


20 weeks late 2012-early 2013 : second Afghan deployment, this time as an Apache co-pilot/gunner.

 

2008 :

If AngryGingerBastard was really at the sharp end, was that not a monumental misjudgement by Brig. Gen. Rupert Golightly-Jock-strap? And have we ever heard such brown-nosing praise from a C.O. to a miserable 2nd Lt? Fuck me, it was like five more minutes out there and our young ginger ninja woulda had the war, as they call it, won, and fuck all these other commoner bastards, eh, shipped home in shreds to an indifferent, cost-conscious NHS future?

Had AngryGingerBastard been killed or worse, captured, vulnerable to torture and head-chopping, all broadcast on the global net, would that not have been a catastrophically damaging propaganda victory, liable to galvanise volunteer Jihadists in huge numbers and thus, inevitably, result in even more dead Tommies, and even Joe Bloggses in the UK?

Can we imagine the scene in Oxford Coroner’s Court if, conversely, Lt AngryGingerBastard, up the sharp end, found himself, as is not unknown, collateralised unto fertiliser by Uncle Sam’s shoot-em-up air corps?

This is Bird Dog One to Bird Dog Ground Control; think we fucked up here, Colonel, big time - think that was AngryGingerBastardLimeyFoxtrotWindsor we just napalmed.

Bird Dog Control here; never mind, son, just jettison the video-tapes and fly yer asses back here. These fucking Limeys’re always bitching. Let me fucking worry about that pansy Coroner; he’s always on my ass.

The Coroner would go fucking nuts. He’d wanna see every piece of paper ever written in the history of the British Army, declare martial law and blockade the Pentagon. No Angry Ginger Bastard getting  buried round here, not until I get some fucking answers…

Brenda’d go apeshit, gold-braided caps’d be rolling down the Mall. Equerries and flunkies and aides de camp would be shitting themselves. Fuck me, Phil, I only said he should go there and shake a few hands, dazzle some fucking dimwit, media-studies cocksucker graduate from the Peeb. Shoot his gun in the sand a bit. Snot like we was fighting the Argies, most of whom went to Sandhurst. No, Phil, fuck me gently, these ragheads is fucking nutters, chop a bloke’s balls off soon as look at him. We didn’t say nothing about the drunken little git being up the sharp end.

The tabloids and the Dimblebys would have a field day, of course. John Shitbrain from the Sun would be glowering : Hanging’s too good for these Yanks/Ragheads/Anybody. The Sun says Torture the Fuckers Wot Killed Our Own AngryGingerBastard, Or Any Other Bastard, It’s Wot The People Want. Turn on the idiot-box and it’d be…

And now. As the sombre cortege. Files past. As it did so poignantly. With his late mother. The Princess. Some called her. Of Tarts.  A stricken nation. Bids farewell. To a suddenly favourite. Right royal. AngryGingerBastard. Reflecting on. The very great. Some say unpayable debt. That the poor owe. To the rich. Like myself. And my entire family. His late mother, the deranged NHS Stalkerwoman, used to say that there were three in the marriage. But. As it turned out. There was only one in the coffin. But, for now, we mourn Wotsisname. Slain in the line of Duty. By whoever. Join me for Question Time when my guests will be the usual bunch of cunts. Lembit Opek, Caroline Flint and some other tossers. From the Cenotaph.  Back to you in the studio.

It was criminally irresponsible to deploy him to Afghanistan, regardless of what the mouthy little prick, himself, wants. I think, for reasons above, that it was inevitable that he would and should be shepherded and protected in the national interest. Although any part of Afghanistan is more dangerous than UK, claims of heroism are a little overblown and unjustified.

At first the national interest, articulated by the Chief of Staff, was held to be that there was no way AngryGingerBastard could serve in Afghanistan, for this, this, and this reason. And then, presumably after pressure, he secretly countermanded those orders. Literally thousands of people, in the press, in the regiment, in the MOD, in the snooty wine bars will have known about this; it was not a state secret, and given - according to Blunkett and Schmidt and M15 - the massive penetration of thousands of mad Jihadi conspirators, it is almost inconceivable that someone from the Other Side would have not deduced, even by his absence from the drunkards’ circuit, that His Ginger Nibs was on active duty.

He never should have been allowed to set foot anywhere in which he might, by his death or capture, enflame things further or endanger genuine soldiers; he is a deeply obnoxious, spoilt little prick who has been able to bully a personal PR triumph out of a Senior Command which should have known better, and the connivance of what we still call the press in this load of fucking rubbish is deeply offensive, even by their standards. Nancy Brown, presbyterian lunatic, slithering around, praising the troops he has consistently betrayed, is just another ladling-over of self-interest from the most disgusting crew of media-political slags in history.  Knighthoods and medals all round.

 

2012 :

WHAT THE PAPERS SAY

PRINCE DICK-OUT TO RISK LIFE IN WOGISTAN

PARTY PRINCE IN P.R. EXERCISE : SEND HIM VICTORIOUS

After a meeting with Head of the Royal Playing Soldiers Brigade, Brigadier General Sir Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap (Eton, Sandhurst and the Chelsea V.D. Clinic) it was announced that the nation’s  favourite Prince, Harry Knobhead, has agreed that in order to clean up the mess left by his latest FuckTrip to LA, he has to start pretending again that he is actually a serving army officer, and not a pampered, idle playboy git, like the rest of his family.

The pretence must be maintained that His Grace, said the Brigadier, is mad keen to get his royal arse blown off by some raghead freedom fighter, that he is gagging for it, any opportunity to bounce up Everest on his arse, or what’s left of it, with some poor people, that’s what is uppermost in His Excellency’s mind. His brother? No, I should jolly well think not. Flight Lieutenant Gormlesss, the future king, is fully occupied rescuing commoners from the Irish Sea, when he is not unavoidably on holiday, that is…

Asked how much danger the popular young prince might find himself in, Brigadier Golightly-Jockstrap said Not very much, hardly any, in fact; depends on how much we can mock up in the studio and how the other young pilots co-operate. I suppose that if we  actually let him near the controls of an Apache he might crash it, like his father would, or fall out of it, but that’s not likely to happen, not without him being detoxed fully, over about six months, and then being taught to fly the damned thing. And anyway there’s probably someone down below the cockpit, actually operating the controls while Hairy’s up top, waving; or maybe we do it remotely. Queen’s grandson killed in some MickeyMouse war about oil?  I should bleedin Cocaine, I mean Co-Co.

6th January, 2023

In his memoir, Spare, which was released in Spain on Thursday, the Duke of Sussex details how he flew on six missions during his second tour in Afghanistan in 2012 and killed 25 Taliban fighters. 

The Taliban, who returned to power in Afghanistan last August, reacted with fury to the statements. 

"Prince Harry will always be remembered in Helmand - Afghans will never forget the killing of their innocent countrymen," said Khalid Zadran, the Taliban’s police spokesman in Kabul.

"The perpetrators of such crimes will one day be brought to the international court and criminals like Harry who proudly confess their crimes will be brought to the court table in front of the international community."

Mr Zadran added that Prince Harry’s description of those he had killed as "chess pieces" and that he was "neither proud nor ashamed" of his actions, was "cruel", "barbaric" and that such actions had legitimised the Taliban’s deadly insurgency against Nato troops in Afghanistan.