Perhaps I might diplomatically change the topic of conversation to assist. I could recall that heady day when I first parted the delicate, golden, gossamer like chest hair of The Fire Breathing MemSahib. The Malaysian campaign was at it's height of fury and confusion, and in some leech infested swamp I copped a severe knock from a burly, swarthy insurgent blighter. The rather embarrassing lump it induced defied our Regimental surgeon and only the tender ministrations of a bonny young lass who had come out East saved my battered hide. This "braw but bonny" young lass in her stiffly starched Nurses ensemble plyed the ever reliable Carbolic acid vigorously with generous abundance on the affected region as I languished in delirium in the darkness between life and death. As I lingered in mortal peril 'twas only the sweet piping of her voice & scent of her jasmine perfume mixed with the fumes of Carbolic acid that persuaded me, enticed me to cling to this mortal breathing world. What an intoxicating, if slightly odiferous brew. A restorative stronger than the whiff of whisky and tobacco.
Some weeks later, as this angel of Mercy ( or Retribution, I get confused on that point ) sat with me in Singapore port during my convalescence the first tender buds of romance sprouted between us when I discovered her father had been a brawling sergeant major of the dreaded Black Watch and that his daughter, this wonderful apparition truly understood just how to properly sharpen a bayonet in addition to her other womanly charms. None of my batmen had ever truly mastered this art, in fact some had barely been able to produce what I regarded as a decent cutting edge on the damn thing. Drunken, pox ridden blighters mostly, poor souls long gone now.
One steamy late afternoon as cicadas and geckos chirped in melancholy chorus and the cooling breeze faded in the twilight and the oppressive humidity dulled our senses.. well you know how strange events occur far east of Aden...
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A beautiful sight
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