He wanted to be a diplomat, you know.

I blame the parents, myself

It seems scarcely possible to believe that the Captain has made it to his 39th birthday, which you will be delighted to know that he celebrates today. I mean, statistically, you would have thought he might have been “winged” once or twice in his high profile position on the front line, but perhaps defence psychiatry is a little less dangerous a profession than is painted by the Captain. Still, as the Captain will tell you (ad nauseum), he has survived the combined forces of the Mick, the Mad Mullahs, the Taliban and the Iraqi insurgents, not to mention the Hun who he encountered whilst in continental Europe. In fact, the closest he came to being shot was in Cyprus, where he asked for a Turkish coffee in down-town Larnaca, but that’s another story. Anyway, many happy returns of the day, Captain. Here’s hoping you make it to 40, at the very least.