MTV here we come

Sorry, Sir John

During the recent state visit of the Chairman & First Lady to Cyprus, you might be amused to read that the discovery by your correspondent that the Captain of Boats has recast himself as some sort of latter-day Stephen Spielberg, maker of ground breaking cinema to rival the works of the late, great pairing of Michael Jackson and Alfred Hitchcock respectively. So, for your viewing pleasure, the Chairman is delighted to present a trailer from a forthcoming release of “Ice Cold in Cyprus”, and a spoof music video featuring the Secretary and Vice Captain of Boats (and friends). Suffice as to say that the Chairman is now on a diet, and the Captain has enrolled at RADA. And not before time, I hear you add….

Patients are a virtue

The Captain hard at it, prior to knocking off early for a game of golf

The Captain is in

“Well, she’s one in sixty one million, Captain”.
“Mmm, very interesting”

The Chairman is delighted to announce that after many years being safely locked to a junior staff job, the Captain has seen fit to come out of retirement and start seeing patients again. Suffice as to say that in light of the current global state of play, the Captain is not often found with time on his hands, but those of an unbalanced disposition can be secure in the knowledge that they are in safe hands with the Captain, if a somewhat unsafe couch, as I almost discovered to my peril when invited to step into his office and tell him about my dear Mama.....

Call me Captain

A present fit for a Captain

The Captain hoovering his well appointed swmming pool.

Note the inflatable Spitfire, purloined from the Battle of Britain dinner in the Officers Mess last Friday.

I had occasion to enquire of the Captain of Boats as to how he is addressed in his position as OC DCMH Cyprus. "Well", he said, "I have tried to encourage them to call me Ben, but am not having a great deal of sucsess". At least he tried, I thought, but the Captain was not finished yet. “You have to remember that old habits die hard in the services, Chairman. And, after all, I am bloody important.” Never let it be said otherwise, I thought, although I particularly liked the “bloody” prefix to his status. Vivat Captain!

Consider yourself cast!

The WRC party at Kourion yesterday evening

The Secretary at Kourion last night

Waiting for Campo as performed by the St. Johns Players, 2008

Following in the footsteps of her Father, who treaded the boards at Westgate Middle School all those years ago in their seminal production of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, the Secretary has secured the starring role in her school’s production of Oliver! this winter, having been cast in the seminal role as “fifth orphan”. As your Chairman said to the Secretary only last night whilst attending a performance from the band of the Royal Corps of Signals at Kourion Theatre, “from small acorns do large conker trees go”. "Never a truer word said in jest", the Secretary replied, and you can’t say fairer than that, can you? Break a leg Mollster, as we say in the Witham.

NCO our type, darling

This is 2009, not 1955, you know!

Readers of this occasional august blog concerning matters WRC related will no doubt be amused to note that social apartheid is alive and well, and flourishing in the Soverign Base Area on that far flung outpost of Empire otherwise known as Cyprus. This does not manifest itself in anything so crude as Officer classes paying the local indigenous Cypriots a bowl of Greek salad a week folk to scrub their verandas and to mow the one blade of grass that the sun has this far managed not to kill in their extensive gardens. Oh no. Nothing so crude. It manifests itself, you might be amused to read, by the children of the Officers travelling to school in luxury air conditioned coaches, whilst the children of the other ranks travel in a somewhat less auspicious fashion, emerging from their charabancs red faced and panting as a result of in-bus temperatures of over 50 degrees, one can only surmise. You therefore wonders whether or not a Rosa Parks moment is only sunny day away in the isle that is home to the Campo’s for the next two years. Then again, probably not, but just imagine the Secretary shouting down the bus “you’re not allowed on here, Dwane, your daddy’s only ground crew!” You could sell tickets for that, couldn’t you?

Tempus Pro Cyprusio

Asbsolutely splendid

Dear Daisy's quarters

The Mollster's room

The Captain at home. The Empire is safe in his hands, rest assured.

Greater love have no club members than to host the Chairman & First Lady for 10 whole days in end-of Colonial era splendour in sunny Cyprus at their splendidly appointed house at RAK Akrotiri. As such, the Campions will forever be in our debt. Well, them and the HSBC, anyway.

Suffice as to say that the Chairman & First Lady wish you were all here, and the Chairman thought you might like to see some decorative ideas for how to personalise your house in club fashion. And the weather? Schorchio, as ever. The sun always shines on the Witham, after all. And the Empire, of course!