In the great days of the British Empire, a new Commanding Officer was sent to an outpost in Africa to relieve the retiring Colonel.
After welcoming his replacement and showing the usual courtesies (gin and tonic, cucumber sandwiches without crusts, etc) that protocol decreed, the retiring Colonel said, “You must meet my Adjutant, Captain Smithers, he’s my right-hand man, he’s really the strength of this Regiment. His talent is simply boundless.”
Smithers was summoned and introduced to the new CO, who was surprised to meet a hump-backed, one-eyed, toothless, hairless, scabbed and pockmarked specimen of humanity, a particularly unattractive man less than three feet tall.
“Smithers, old man, tell your new CO about yourself.”
“Well, sir, I graduated with honours from Sandhurst, joined the regiment and won the Military Cross and Bar after three expeditions behind enemy lines.
I’ve represented Great Britain in equestrian events, and won a Silver Medal in the middleweight division of the Olympics.
I have researched the history of …”
Here the Colonel interrupted, "Yes, yes, never mind that Smithers, he can find all that in your personnel file.
“Tell him about the day you told the witch doctor to [ Z.B. ] off.”
