Aye, there's nowt mair sad a sight than a flag at half-mast. Ah mind the time Ah wis fichtin' wi' the regiment in the Falkland Islands, and a wee Argentinian on t'other side o' the hill drapped a mortar roond richt doon the chimney o' the latrine where mah sergeant major (Doon wis his name...Ben Doon) wis sequestered wi' a sheep that he wis interrogatin'. The sheep canna be trusted not tae switch sides, not because they are actual traitors mind ye, but mair due to the fact that they are a wee bit stupid, and dinna ken whit side they are on in the faerst place! So...doon comes this wee mortar roond and blows mah sergeant major and the sheep tae kingdom come! We found nowt but a boot wi' a foot in it, an' a large quantity o' wool that wis sae burnt as tae be of nae faerther use.

'Twas a sad day! We flew the flag at half-mast and played mournful bagpipe airs aw night long. At dawn the next day the whole band o' Argentinians came o'er the hill under a white flag o' surrender. Their morale wis totally broken doon for some reason...Ah dinna ken why...they focht well enough the day afore.

- LH