Honestly, this compensation some RAF tarts are claiming for 'damages incurred' by marching is pathetic but very predictable and the words 'flood gates open' springs to mind, so, I am thinking of claiming for a couple of things myself. For a start, in '73 I was on Naval Patrol in the Bahamas and had to wear tropical shorts......with boots and gaiters, the local populace laughed their asses off so much, I was very traumatized and it dented my confidence so badly that I only did a further 34 years service. I would also like to claim for the damage to my nether regions after performing the 'Dance of The Flaming Assholes' in Gib and 'A Duckrun Derby' in Samoa. I thought it was an official part of Naval training and it was required for promotion. I only questioned it when I recently looked at my task book and could not find any authorizing signatures in it. I still have to have salt baths. I am claiming for all the scran that I had to buy ashore to compensate for the crap meals onboard and the shock I felt when, as a baby sailor, I asked a chef what was for breakfast and he said "[LIFTED] on a raft". I thought it was a direct order and was arrested shortly after for crapping on the boat deck. I would also like to claim for the injury I sustained when I fainted after asking the same chef what was for dinner and he replied "Baby's Heads". I believe I am entitled to compensation for injury, because of a particularly long spell at sea. I was as randy as a priest in a boat load of sea scouts and went 'ugly early' at Joanna's. The injury occurred after the 'fragile little wood nymph' (Sumo Champion of North End) that I had taken home, fell on me in an intoxicated state (fighting over who had the biggest kebab) and broke several of my ribs. The main injury however occurred when I chewed off my own arm so as not to wake the behemoth as I crept out to return to my ship. Luckily, the medical staff and the outside stoker were able to stem the bleeding until 'turn to' and I was able to queue up with the sickbay fresh cases. Thankfully it grew back in time for my weekend duty. As a shortass, I also had a hard time marching on divisions trying to keep up with the taller guys and when the First Sea Lord as inspecting officer, asked why the [LIFTED] 'Groucho Marx' is running around the parade ground it was the last straw. But I survived. Because I was a MATELOT. Come to think of it, I don't think I'll claim, I'll leave that the lads and lasses who REALLY need it, like those who have lost their sight or their limbs, or their minds, through combat or accident. Girls in the RAF and any others who are thinking of this, you should be ashamed of yourselves and the lawyers that advised them need kicking off Southsea Pier.

What a dick.

Really? Well, fancy that, I've been entertained by dick literature.

Really? Well, fancy that, I've been entertained by dick literature.

There are shops for that kind of thing you know.

He seems to be saying they are complaining about nothing.

Equating their complaints to eating dodgy food, or wearing tropical shorts.

Unless they are lying, these women had fractured pelvises.

Now, call me daft but a fractured pelvis that you are told to carry on marching with is slightly different than having to wear tropical shorts.