The Thumbs of Colonel Pud – as concerns the Boer War and Douchebag legacy forthwith

Posted on | November 13, 2009 | 7 Comments

The thumbs of Colonel Pud by Lord Beauregard Douchebag. From the book – The Boer Wars: Tales of Bravery — Second Edition–Forward by Madam Edith Schrum–Page 228

It came to be that I, General Beauregard Douchebag , was in encampment at the base of Wallop hill near Fozworth on Fropp. I was in my tent with my dear friend Major Diversion. We were in the midst of tea and discussing our boyhood fun along the banks of the Trent(other). Fishing for crawdads and watching the beavers build dams. When we would tire of this, it was off to Annoy Hill in search of Olfs. I laughingly remember young Divi, Divi being my nickname for Major Diversion, losing his prize Olf hunting hat in the thick brush at the summit of the hill. Oh how he did swear. It was hand sewn by his Aunty Mimi and was of the finest silk. But I digress.

We had just finished our first cup and had lit our cigars when I heard my troops making a commotion. I looked out the tent flap and saw Field Commander Backasswards riding at full speed on his Shetland pony. He was always quite the sight on that pony. Backasswards stood 6 foot 5 and his feet drug the ground as he rode. But he preferred the pony because of easy dismount.

He got off the pony and strode to my tent, his garments in disarray. What has happened? I asked. Tea….he croaked. I poured 2 cups worth down his throat and he gasped for air.

General, he said, Colonel Pud was in encampment near Bunker Field due to the fact that it was tea time. The kettles had just begun to boil when the enemy attacked and took Pud prisoner. Those cads! I sputtered, attack during tea? Have they no honoUr?

I began to devise a battle plan in which to achieve rescue of the Colonel but then thought otherwise. I shall go alone to the enemy camp and resue Pud myself. In this way few will suffer pain and anguish. It’s the Douchebag way.

I called for my water boy Gunga Amur. Fill my canteen Amur,said I. There may be time for tea as I travel. My men brought my fine steed Jungian up from the pasture. A great horse, but at odds with himself at times. I galloped off at high speed knowing full well that Pud may be in great danger.

It was nightfall when I came upon the enemy encampment. I saw only one sentry. Using my knowledge of the ancient martial art of Kung Fu which was I learned from my teen years living with the Shoie Lyn monks, I disabled the guard with one swift movement. It was then that i spotted Colonel Pud.

The fiends had hung him by his thumbs from a tree branch. They knew full well that it would ruin his ability to hold a tea cup properly. I managed to catch his eye and using secret hand signals that we learned as Masons was able to communicate my plan to him.

There was tall grass leading to the tree so I crawled on my belly like a reptile till I reached the base of the tree. Then climbed the tree with the agility of a monkey. I crawled out on to the branch that Pud was tied to. It was the that I realized that my Royal Guard pocket knife was missing.

How could i cut the ropes? There was a full moon and I happened to have my magnifying glass with me. I focussed the moonbeams through the lense on to the ropes. In a matter of seconds the ropes burned in two.

Pud fell to the ground. I splinted his thumbs with sticks and native vines and then slung him over Jungian. I swatted Jungian on the rump and he headed back to my base with Pud. Now I was alone with the enemy. They were all sleeping so I put them into an even deeper sleep by singing a Gregorian chant that I learned from Poontoc people of Tibet.

After gathering vines and twine I tied the wrists and ankles of each soldier. Finally, I could rest. I had lit my burlwood pipe when in the distance I heard the trumpets of my regiment approaching. Once again a Douchebag had saved the day.
Quite.

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