Location: Runaway Bay
…..LEST WE REMEMBER!
People remember Remembrance Day for varied reasons but in essence it is to pay homage to those who fought and sacrificed themselves for the benefit of those of us still living….. The freedom that we, in the West at least, enjoy and which is the envy of those poor buggers without it.
There is something particularly wholesome about the annual Remembrance Day celebrations, starting with the Dawn Service, the splendid-looking old Diggers in their starch pressed uniforms and gleaming medals, red poppies, the silence, the Ode of Remembrance and the Last Post. It’s simple, it’s honourable, it’s a dignified way of remembering our veterans at the Cenetaph.
The Gourmet Hash has it’s very own veteran, a bloke we call “Veteran” (Bloody genius whoever thought of that) and one who fought bravely and survived the Boer War, the Great War, WW2, the Korean War and Vietnam. Recently, he put up his hand for deployment to Afghanistan but despite forging his age in his passport the authorities weren’t to be fooled this time and, at the ripe young age of 126yrs old, he was told “Thanks, but no thanks ole timer, it’s time to put the feet up instead”.
Veteran would have none of that of course, so instead of heading to Iraq, he headed to Hope Island where he set a run for his ‘mates’ at the GCH3.
-“And just like Iraq” commented Two Dogs in the Circle “it was an absolute fucking fiasco. As a war experience it probably rate fairly well” he continued, “but as a hashing experience it was a total fuck-up!!!”
For an added special-effects-touch to the proceedings, Veteran proved that there were no lingering hard feelings when he introduced a German who he’d injured in the Dardanelles and who he’d cared for after the Germans threw in the towel and headed back home. Passing comment on “ze vok”, the German said: “It voz a very good vok. Zer voz some kangaroos but I did not ave my gun to shoot zem.”
Although without hash experience, and having shown no notable inclination or commitment to the Gourmet Hash, the affable German was baptised by the Grand General; from this day forward he will be known as “Fair Dinkum”.
And so, onto the nosh……the Hash held its collective breath as Veteran announced the nosh details. “You know me fellas, I’m a bloody ordinary cook, I fuck up boiling an egg, so I thought that, in keeping with the occasion, I’d let the good ladies from the RSL cook up a storm for youse all. There was an immediate cheer from the pack as they eagerly streamed across the road to the local RSL club. And what a storm it was, including lovely stewed mince, some roasted pumpkin and some boiled veges. Only ‘Not Tonight’ (Josephine) was heard complaining: “Fuck this crunchy veges bullshit…..if I want al fucking dente veges I’ll ask for them, but I want mine boiled to almost mash consistency. Gives me the bloody shits all this al dente crap”.
While the rest of the Hash was enjoying the RSL ‘treat’ some of them began reminiscing of days ago…..
Ferret told of a time when he attended the annual Mekong Hash brouhaha. He takes up the story:
-” We was sailing down the Mekong on this thing called a slowwwwwwwwboat and slow it bloody was too. We were heading to a run site with my bird ‘Sheep’ and about 20 odd local hashers. At one point we had to pull in on the Laotian side of the river to refuel at this tiny fishing village but when we almost done, 2 blokes with AK47 and balaclavas jumped aboard and threatened to kill us if we didn’t hand over our possesions. After some negotiating, the Skipper came over and said that they’d be prepared to let us keep our possessions as long as they got to keep ‘Sheep’. I told the Skip that I valued my wallet more than anything else and so they were most welcome to her. After we’d fucked off out of there the other hashers came to thank me for my generosity but I told ’em it was no big deal………in fact, if truth be told, she was a bit of a dud root anyway!”
Truck Tyres told of a time back in ’94 at the Rotorua Interhash in NZ.
-“The Hash was bloody awesome but it was the after hours shenanigans that made it truly great. There was that much bangin’ going on that they renamed our hotel the ‘Get Lucky’ Hotel. Anyway I’m a discreet kinda guy and I had my eye on this big Maori bird called Haka Haka who, as luck would have it, lived locally. One night I was following her back to her place -I was a bit pissed- when I tripped on this bloody tree root across the pathway; I fell headlong into the scrub besides losing me fucking glasses….
I was back in Rotorua 9 years later on me honeymoon and on this one night the cheese and kisses was off her tucker so I tucked ‘er in the cot and went looking for me ole flame Haka. I’d had a few that night too and as I walked up the path to her front door I tripped on that same bloody root again and fell into that scrub. I was groping my way out of there when I felt something hard and metallic…..my bloody old glasses!!!!
It is almost Gourmet Hash folklore that Prince Valiant has an incurable problem with the plumbing works; he reckons it’s the result of weeks and weeks of poor diet when he was in the trenches in Nam. Now he has no control over the sphincter and he farts at the drop of a hat….. He continues:
-“It was a posh soiree with ladies present and the tucker had been great; the Malay beef rending was particularly spicy and rich and I hoed into it. Soon after it began to take effect on me guts and I started dropping them. They were bloody stinkers too. Anyway, after a while the GM, Shat, came over and told me that dessert was about to be served so to put a bloody cork in it or leave the party. I was really hurt so I thought, ‘I’ll show you you bastards’ and headed to the fan room where the air conditioning equipment was installed. I brewed an absolute ripper, letting it mature nicely while holding it up, then I let it rip in the duct and the fan delivered it. It took about 12 seconds to vacate the entire room….. what a bloody rip snorter!!!
Full of Shit remembered back in 2007, 75 years after the Bombing of Darwin, he and ‘Killa’ Willis (BallPoint’s high school maths teacher no less) set this run in the Berrimah swamps just out of Darwin. It was to be the re-enactment of the Darwin Blitz, the idea being that as the Hash would emerge out of the stinking swamp, they would be welcomed by a barrage of fire crackers popping off around them. Killa was an expert in all things explosive but he over-reached that night…. So as the hash came out of the mud Killa exploded the first device but it was way oversized and it nearly blew his bloody leg off. He was in intensive care for a week and they only just managed to save his leg.”
BallPoint recalled his first Inter Africa Hash in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia….
-“By way of welcome Grand Master Gunzuntight was there at the airport with a can of cold St George and a bevvy of gorgeous young hasherettes of which two were assigned to me as my personal chaperones.”
-“The last thing we need is to have a bunch of Westerners getting lost” said Gunzuntight.
-“Ethiopians have that lovely habit of women feeding their men (the ones they’re attracted to) using only their delicate little fingers. My two cohorts were dab hands at feeding big boofheads even if the tucker wasn’t always gourmet. After an evening of ‘feasting’ my stomach with FirFir and my eyes (Sexwale and Baby Ababa were most easy on the eye) I got on the turps with Sucker from Nairobi Hash and Queenie from Kampala. The night got big, so big in fact that I know not how I got back to my hotel. And in the late morning, as I started coming to, I was most pleased that my bodyguards were there too, Sexwale on one side BA on the other, and both in their most decadent chocolate birthday suits. Dear Oh Dear……”
Sir Rabbit then entertained the mob with his recollection of the Loveboat cruise, after the Cyprus Interhash. The trip was organised as a Post Interhash lube, a cruise departing Cyprus for Alexandria in Egypt. With 500 odd hashers on board the shenanigans were never ending. Rabbit went on:
-“The best bit of the days were the midnight nudie runs around the pool deck. Everyone going into it, it was a bloody hoot.”
-“It wasn’t only the running they got into” helped Ferret, a fellow ‘cruiser’. “Inevitably it ended up in the cabins where there were orgies galore ey Rabbit?” he said with a nod and a wink. “Why do you think they call him Rabbit…….it not because he loves lettuce.”
Circumference then spoke about a time during one of the earlier GCH3 AGPU:
-“The hierarchy had organised these trannies to do a show and a lot of the blokes weren’t aware of it. Mumbles fell in love immediately and he let himself go a bit. The trannie was kissing him, fondling him on the dance floor etc,. A while later Mumbles and his tran’ were smoochin’ in the corner when she/he started playing with his arse. Mumbles seemed to be enjoying it for a bit but then it stuck a finger up his date and all hell broke loose. Being ex-army, you’d have thought Mumbles was used to this kind of caper but it took about 6 of us to calm him down. He dead set wanted to kill him/her.”
Ahhhhhhhhhhh memories ………………………………………………………………………long may we remember them!!!!!
Acting On-Sec Ballpoint