In which our brave Librarian sends in the Naval reserves....and the Absinthe

So one battle draws to a close and peace very nearly breaks out...except that here in the Barracks, a truce is never final. It seems that the new CO of the mobile catering corps has torn up the rule-book and inserted his own, in a desperate attempt to make his mark on the battlefield. Thus, when I arrived to check up on my book battalion, I found that Colonel Chez Gerald had dug a trench outside my luxury office suite (aka the broom cupboard, soon to be converted into a disabled loo) and filled it with soggy meringues. Not to be beaten (unlike the egg-whites obviously), I immediately armed myself with several packets of blancmange and built a bridge over the trench to allow both ingress and egress, grabbed a newish edition of Jane's Fighting Ships (second hand on ebay at a very reasonable price) and rounded up the Naval Reserves who were straining at the leash and ready for action.

Seeing himself outsmarted, Chez Gerald decided to pull a fast one and sneakily flogged off some of my very special new editions at a knock-down price the minute my back was turned. This of course kept the punters happy, but left my Brave Boys feeling somewhat depleted. Several in fact are laid up in the Military Hospital complete with bandages and I am reduced to rattling tins in Piccadilly Circus to collect enough money for medical supplies.

Meanwhile in the Indies, Old Colonel Gin-soaked of the Eponymous Gordon's (Highland) Regiment, is stirring up a one-man Indian Mutiny on account of his not having been able to get access to the latest edition of Wisden's Cricket Almanac...well that and the fact that Ocado have failed to deliver his weekly supply of Slimline Tonic. The poor old sod is bereft I tell you: wailing and gnashing teeth - I had to call in the paramedics and get an intravenous infusion of Absinthe set up before he calmed down.

So all business as usual really: don't shoot until you see the eggwhites......