LOCKDOWN week 11.

The Quarter Master, chased indoors from Head Gardener duties by the inclement weather, has been turning his attention to keeping the troops entertained. Well, me and him.

Channelling his inner It Ain’t Half Hot Mum (I’m not sure this is an appropriate 21st-century approach, but QM’s a bit old school), he’s making sure morale back at barracks is tickety-boo.

So he’s devised a challenge or two by means of diversion.

First up is Desert Island Dish™. As the title suggests, this borrows from Aunty’s Radio 4 show. The QM’s version requires the contestant to imagine a meal that they would take to said desert island. Being a generous sort, QM has decreed that we can pick recipes the ingredients of which might not normally be found in the Quarter Master’s store.

The QM is missing his manoeuvres overseas, so the desert island challenge has an international flavour – we can pick a dish from each of 10 different countries.

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The QM set the pace with kedgeree washed down with a G&T. The quinine helps keep the malaria at bay and you can’t be too careful, old bean.

He also fancies some spotted dick, but isn’t sure how well this will turn out in his billycan.

I remind him that this is a game, just make-believe, and that it’s ham salad for dinner. But you’ve got to admire his stiff upper lip when faced with a challenge.

It should be noted that this is an upper lip which is becoming increasingly hirsute. Perhaps this

is a method of disguise he is planning when he’s under cover on his desert island mission. I remind him again of the fine line between fiction and reality.

Having done the Desert Island Dish™ drill, the QM had another activity lined up for R&R and we retire to the mess for a game of skittles.

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These aren’t your everyday common or garden skittles. These are toilet roll skittles. Or Shittles™, as the QM has rather coarsely named them. He has been duly reprimanded for language ill befitting of his rank.

It’s good to know, though, that after his magnificent efforts in furnishing the squadron so efficiently with loo roll, he is now reaping the rewards of his endeavours.

So we have 10 toilet roll tubes decorated airforce blue (QM found a batch of paint in the garage so old it probably has lead in it) all numbered and lined up for target practice.

In the absence of a ball, the QM has doubled down on his resources and returned to his hose supply. Obviously, stock is somewhat depleted due to the pressures of Sock-Mask™ deployment. But the QM has found the perfect pair to ball up – nice and tightly, mind – to launch in the direction of the skittles.

Strike! Job well done, old boy!

OK, so it might not have been the most thrilling way to spend a Saturday night, but it gave the Quarter Master something to turn his attention to other than counting teabags.