British Humour

[Blue Walter]

British humour is dying out due to wokeness that is slowly removing it from our culture. Some will say good riddance while others will rue its passing, I am of the ruing kind. I can understand why people see 'banter' as wrong because there is normally a 'victim' that is at the centre of it serving for other people's amusement. It can be seen as bullying as well, especially if it is the same 'victim' each time. On the other hand if the victim can take it as a joke and return the banter I think that is OK.

I remember that I used to work with a chap from an Eastern European ex Soviet state that came to England to work. He was a very well educated person and was a university history Don where he came from, as was his brother. He was originally working on an assembly line earning way more than he did back home as a lecturer. His education and his obvious articulation meant that he moved on and is doing very well in Swindon. Because of his love and knowledge of history we became friends and spent time with each other. When he came into the place where I worked he was subjected to 'banter'. Among other things he was told that when the revolution came he would be first up against the wall along with all his other 'commie mates'. At first he was shocked that the people that said that to him were also very friendly towards him any other time. Eventually he got the humour and gave it back in spades. When he went home and people asked him what it was like in England he told me he found it difficult to explain British humour. He said I couldn't say it was a bit like German or French humour in any way. He said how do you explain to people that when someone says to you "go back to where you come from you commie bar steward' means that you have been pretty well accepted.

What has brought this to the fore is when I was looking up an article concerning the Falklands War, the battle after Goose Green where they had to clear the mountain region near Port Stanley. Apparently the British decided to attack at night time to flush out Argentinian defenders. Because they did not want to give away what they were doing the advance party were issued with orders to use their bayonets, the first such orders since World War 1. Apparently, and I can't find the article covering this, but a soldier was court marshelled for 'inflicting unnecessary wounds of an enemy'. What he done, apparently, was that the mission was almost complete and he came accross an Argentinian sniper still operating. He crept up behind him and stuck his bayonet up his bottom. The ethical question afterwards was if he had killed him outright the British soldier would have been carrying out orders and there would be no problem, but by taking him prisoner and leaving him with a life long incontinence problem was illegal. I couldn't find this article so it may or may not be true. Researching this led me to amusing anecdotes illustrating British humour.

A night time reconnaissance (reccy) party of Royal Marines were looking at an area where they were going to advance into. They came across a forward Argentinian position which was unguarded with the occupants asleep, and apparently drunk, but as the marines didn't want a fight which would have alerted nearby Argentinian troops they carried out their job they had been sent to do. All this done with the Argentinians oblivious to what was going on. Apparently the place was a mess with rubbish and very untidy. With good old British humour when the marines withdrew on completion of their mission they left a note written in Spainish for the Argentinian soldiers to find. "This place is a mess, call yourself soldiers. You are a disgrace to your uniform. Get it sorted because we will be back".

The Argentinians were petrified of the British coming but absolutely mortified at the knowledge that the British had brought Gurkhas with them. Everything that moved would make them jump with fear in case it was a Gurkha. They believed that they scalped their prisoners and ate them. When the Paras arrived in Port Stanley they started rounding up Argentinian prisoners. They told them that the Gurkhas would take over from the Paras and advised them not to make eye contact with the Gurhas when they arrive. They told them if they smile at you it means they want to eat you. The Gurkhas came to take over the prisoners from the Paras and the Paras told them that the Argentinian prisoners were scared stiff and needed reassurance that they will be treated with lawful respect by their captors. With British humour in mind they suggested to the Gurkhas to smile at the prisoners to put them at ease.

[eltorrro]

British humour is dying out due to wokeness that is slowly removing it from our culture. Some will say good riddance while others will rue its passing, I am of the ruing kind. I can understand why people see 'banter' as wrong because there is normally a 'victim' that is at the centre of it serving for other people's amusement. It can be seen as bullying as well, especially if it is the same 'victim' each time. On the other hand if the victim can take it as a joke and return the banter I think that is OK.

I remember that I used to work with a chap from an Eastern European ex Soviet state that came to England to work. He was a very well educated person and was a university history Don where he came from, as was his brother. He was originally working on an assembly line earning way more than he did back home as a lecturer. His education and his obvious articulation meant that he moved on and is doing very well in Swindon. Because of his love and knowledge of history we became friends and spent time with each other. When he came into the place where I worked he was subjected to 'banter'. Among other things he was told that when the revolution came he would be first up against the wall along with all his other 'commie mates'. At first he was shocked that the people that said that to him were also very friendly towards him any other time. Eventually he got the humour and gave it back in spades. When he went home and people asked him what it was like in England he told me he found it difficult to explain British humour. He said I couldn't say it was a bit like German or French humour in any way. He said how do you explain to people that when someone says to you "go back to where you come from you commie bar steward' means that you have been pretty well accepted.

What has brought this to the fore is when I was looking up an article concerning the Falklands War, the battle after Goose Green where they had to clear the mountain region near Port Stanley. Apparently the British decided to attack at night time to flush out Argentinian defenders. Because they did not want to give away what they were doing the advance party were issued with orders to use their bayonets, the first such orders since World War 1. Apparently, and I can't find the article covering this, but a soldier was court marshelled for 'inflicting unnecessary wounds of an enemy'. What he done, apparently, was that the mission was almost complete and he came accross an Argentinian sniper still operating. He crept up behind him and stuck his bayonet up his bottom. The ethical question afterwards was if he had killed him outright the British soldier would have been carrying out orders and there would be no problem, but by taking him prisoner and leaving him with a life long incontinence problem was illegal. I couldn't find this article so it may or may not be true. Researching this led me to amusing anecdotes illustrating British humour.

A night time reconnaissance (reccy) party of Royal Marines were looking at an area where they were going to advance into. They came across a forward Argentinian position which was unguarded with the occupants asleep, and apparently drunk, but as the marines didn't want a fight which would have alerted nearby Argentinian troops they carried out their job they had been sent to do. All this done with the Argentinians oblivious to what was going on. Apparently the place was a mess with rubbish and very untidy. With good old British humour when the marines withdrew on completion of their mission they left a note written in Spainish for the Argentinian soldiers to find. "This place is a mess, call yourself soldiers. You are a disgrace to your uniform. Get it sorted because we will be back".

The Argentinians were petrified of the British coming but absolutely mortified at the knowledge that the British had brought Gurkhas with them. Everything that moved would make them jump with fear in case it was a Gurkha. They believed that they scalped their prisoners and ate them. When the Paras arrived in Port Stanley they started rounding up Argentinian prisoners. They told them that the Gurkhas would take over from the Paras and advised them not to make eye contact with the Gurhas when they arrive. They told them if they smile at you it means they want to eat you. The Gurkhas came to take over the prisoners from the Paras and the Paras told them that the Argentinian prisoners were scared stiff and needed reassurance that they will be treated with lawful respect by their captors. With British humour in mind they suggested to the Gurkhas to smile at the prisoners to put them at ease.

Most amusing..can't get the image from my mind of Gurkhas smiling at Argies!!

[Sam_Brown]

Why does this read like something ChatGPT wrote lol

[Blue Walter]

Why does this read like something ChatGPT wrote lol

What is ChatGPT?

[Blue Walter]

Why does this read like something ChatGPT wrote lol

I have just looked it up but it has gone right over my head. Sorry but I don't get it.

[Sam_Brown]

It was a joke due to the length of your post. Apologies. It’s a AI tool I use at work. You can say things like “give me the high level steps needed for migrating this software to a new server” and it’ll write it for you. “Summarise this proposal as an executive summary in two paragraphs” or my favourite “rewrite this email so it’s more professional”.

It’s amazing.

[Blue Walter]

It was a joke due to the length of your post. Apologies. It’s a AI tool I use at work. You can say things like “give me the high level steps needed for migrating this software to a new server” and it’ll write it for you. “Summarise this proposal as an executive summary in two paragraphs” or my favourite “rewrite this email so it’s more professional”.

It’s amazing.

Yes, I think I will have to take your word for that. It was a rather long winded post I suppose but I tried to shorten it by cutting stuff out. Like a story concerning a bloke who had his leg blown off. Apparently he was repeatedly saying "I have lost my leg" but the medics comforted him by saying they knew exactly where it was.

[Sam_Brown]

It was a joke due to the length of your post. Apologies. It’s a AI tool I use at work. You can say things like “give me the high level steps needed for migrating this software to a new server” and it’ll write it for you. “Summarise this proposal as an executive summary in two paragraphs” or my favourite “rewrite this email so it’s more professional”.

It’s amazing.

Yes, I think I will have to take your word for that. It was a rather long winded post I suppose but I tried to shorten it by cutting stuff out. Like a story concerning a bloke who had his leg blown off. Apparently he was repeatedly saying "I have lost my leg" but the medics comforted him by saying they knew exactly where it was.

Heh that’s great. My father in law is an ex copper and told me about the time he had to deal with a suicide on the railways. One of his colleagues asked if he could give him a hand with something and my FIL apparently threw a recently severed hand at him and said “here you go mate”. Late 60s I think.

If you wanna try the AI malarkey Microsoft have CoPilot which is what I use. I just said ChatGPT cause that’s the most well known one. Just give it a prompt and see what it comes up with.

https://copilot.microsoft.com/

I asked it to creat a story about a policeman on a train track.

Once upon a time, in the quaint little town of Whistlestop, Constable Percy Puddlefoot found himself in a rather peculiar situation. You see, Percy was the only policeman in town, and his beat included the railway track that cut through the heart of Whistlestop.

One sunny morning, Percy was patrolling the track, twirling his baton and humming a tune. He loved the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the rails—it was like a lullaby for his soul. But today, fate had other plans.

As Percy strolled along, he noticed a chicken perched on the track, pecking at imaginary breadcrumbs. Now, this wasn't just any chicken; it was Henrietta, the notorious escape artist. She'd broken out of Farmer Higgins' coop more times than Percy could count.

"Morning, Henrietta," Percy said, tipping his hat. "Back to your old tricks, eh?"

Henrietta clucked defiantly and continued her pecking. Percy sighed. He'd tried everything—barbed wire, motion sensors, even a tiny chicken-sized jail cell—but Henrietta always outwitted him.

Just then, the distant rumble of an approaching train reached Percy's ears. Panic surged through him. He couldn't let Henrietta become the world's first feathered pancake!

"Stop!" Percy shouted, waving his arms. "Henrietta, get off the track!"

Henrietta looked up, blinked, and then calmly hopped onto the other rail. Percy's heart raced as the train hurtled closer. He sprinted toward Henrietta, arms flailing like a windmill.

But Henrietta wasn't done. She darted back to the original rail, clucking triumphantly. Percy's legs turned to jelly. The train was seconds away.

Desperate, Percy lunged at Henrietta, scooping her up just as the locomotive thundered past. Feathers flew, and Percy stumbled, landing face-first in a pile of chicken droppings.

The train's engineer leaned out of the window. "Constable, you okay?"

Percy emerged, chicken in hand, covered in—you guessed it—chicken poop. "I'm fine," he gasped. "Just saving Henrietta."

The engineer raised an eyebrow. "Henrietta? That chicken's caused more delays than a snowstorm. You're a hero, Constable."

And so, Constable Percy Puddlefoot became a legend in Whistlestop. The townsfolk erected a statue of him—a man with outstretched arms, clutching a chicken. Henrietta, unimpressed, continued her escape attempts, now with a bronze plaque that read, "In memory of our feathered troublemaker."

And that, my friend, is how a bumbling policeman, a rebellious chicken, and a speeding train collided to create the most absurdly heroic moment in Whistlestop's history.

[pompeygunner]

I love this thread,full of quirky anecdotes that perfectly describe the unique British humour. Superb.

[Blue Walter]

It was a joke due to the length of your post. Apologies. It’s a AI tool I use at work. You can say things like “give me the high level steps needed for migrating this software to a new server” and it’ll write it for you. “Summarise this proposal as an executive summary in two paragraphs” or my favourite “rewrite this email so it’s more professional”.

It’s amazing.

Yes, I think I will have to take your word for that. It was a rather long winded post I suppose but I tried to shorten it by cutting stuff out. Like a story concerning a bloke who had his leg blown off. Apparently he was repeatedly saying "I have lost my leg" but the medics comforted him by saying they knew exactly where it was.

Heh that’s great. My father in law is an ex copper and told me about the time he had to deal with a suicide on the railways. One of his colleagues asked if he could give him a hand with something and my FIL apparently threw a recently severed hand at him and said “here you go mate”. Late 60s I think.

If you wanna try the AI malarkey Microsoft have CoPilot which is what I use. I just said ChatGPT cause that’s the most well known one. Just give it a prompt and see what it comes up with.

https://copilot.microsoft.com/

I asked it to creat a story about a policeman on a train track.

Once upon a time, in the quaint little town of Whistlestop, Constable Percy Puddlefoot found himself in a rather peculiar situation. You see, Percy was the only policeman in town, and his beat included the railway track that cut through the heart of Whistlestop.

One sunny morning, Percy was patrolling the track, twirling his baton and humming a tune. He loved the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the rails—it was like a lullaby for his soul. But today, fate had other plans.

As Percy strolled along, he noticed a chicken perched on the track, pecking at imaginary breadcrumbs. Now, this wasn't just any chicken; it was Henrietta, the notorious escape artist. She'd broken out of Farmer Higgins' coop more times than Percy could count.

"Morning, Henrietta," Percy said, tipping his hat. "Back to your old tricks, eh?"

Henrietta clucked defiantly and continued her pecking. Percy sighed. He'd tried everything—barbed wire, motion sensors, even a tiny chicken-sized jail cell—but Henrietta always outwitted him.

Just then, the distant rumble of an approaching train reached Percy's ears. Panic surged through him. He couldn't let Henrietta become the world's first feathered pancake!

"Stop!" Percy shouted, waving his arms. "Henrietta, get off the track!"

Henrietta looked up, blinked, and then calmly hopped onto the other rail. Percy's heart raced as the train hurtled closer. He sprinted toward Henrietta, arms flailing like a windmill.

But Henrietta wasn't done. She darted back to the original rail, clucking triumphantly. Percy's legs turned to jelly. The train was seconds away.

Desperate, Percy lunged at Henrietta, scooping her up just as the locomotive thundered past. Feathers flew, and Percy stumbled, landing face-first in a pile of chicken droppings.

The train's engineer leaned out of the window. "Constable, you okay?"

Percy emerged, chicken in hand, covered in—you guessed it—chicken poop. "I'm fine," he gasped. "Just saving Henrietta."

The engineer raised an eyebrow. "Henrietta? That chicken's caused more delays than a snowstorm. You're a hero, Constable."

And so, Constable Percy Puddlefoot became a legend in Whistlestop. The townsfolk erected a statue of him—a man with outstretched arms, clutching a chicken. Henrietta, unimpressed, continued her escape attempts, now with a bronze plaque that read, "In memory of our feathered troublemaker."

And that, my friend, is how a bumbling policeman, a rebellious chicken, and a speeding train collided to create the most absurdly heroic moment in Whistlestop's history.

Yes that is amazing what you can do with technology theses days but I will take your word for it though. I enjoyed your Father in Laws story though, I much prefer factual stories than fictional ones.

[pompeygunner]

So I'll tell you just one of the very funny (looking back) experiences I had in the RN. I got drafted to HMS Tiger aged 18 in Jan '77, we were due to sail for a trip to the W.I., Brazil & Africa but 1st stop as always was Gibraltar. I was out on the lash the night before we sailed, in Joanna's until 2am. Very hammered. Sailed the next day into a terrific storm. Once we got out into the channel out of sight of land boy was I seasick, my Chief said go to the Port n Starboard cross passage & get some fresh air on one of the waists. So off I toddled & the ship was pitching all over the shop. So I get there & the P.O. whose part of ship it was took one look @ this green young sprog in ft of him & said "p i s s off, you aren't throwing up in my part of ship". Hurt by this remark & went back to my Chief & told him what the P.O. there had said, know I noticed he & others were sniggering. Anyway @ this point Chiefy pi s sing himself laughing said "I know" & then cracked up completely. Now I never knew whether they were in cahoots to ritually humiliate a young seasick sprog or not. I suspect they were. And that in a nutshell is military humour for you.
The really great thing is that after I'd got my sea legs I would see that P.O. & he'd give me a big grin. Bastards!!

[Blue Walter]

I love this thread,full of quirky anecdotes that perfectly describe the unique British humour. Superb.

That yarn about the Royal Marine Reccy troop has been exaggerated over time. The legend doing the rounds has grown into a slightly different story where the note left has changed from the real one. Instead of a note saying how untidy their camp was it has it that individual notes were placed next to the sleeping Argentinian soldiers saying, in Spainish, "bang bang you are dead". The source I have got them from are more accurate, some coming from internal inquiries and accounts from the time.

[NSRailings]

I don't think it's only about British humour. Would they make an 'Airplane' or 'Airplane 2' these days?

[phat_chris]

I don't think it's only about British humour. Would they make an 'Airplane' or 'Airplane 2' these days?

Surely you can't be serious?

[NSRailings]

I don't think it's only about British humour. Would they make an 'Airplane' or 'Airplane 2' these days?

Surely you can't be serious?