Please don't laugh...

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I'm off work until Friday and am waiting for delivery of a bed, so can't leave the house. I'm intensely bored so I've just sat and written a little bit of a story. I can't imagine myself ever following through and writing anything proper, as 1. I'm too lazy; 2. I can't write properly, with a solid beginning, middle and end, or join scenes together seamlessly; and 3. I'm too thick.

So please don't poke fun and laugh at my pathetic attempt, it only took me 20 minutes. Thought I'd share it. It's basically supposed to be about the Peninsular War between Britain and France.

[Year – 1808 – Lisbon, Portugal]


The sweltering Lisbon heat beat down upon Sergeant O’Keife and his men as they sit lazily around a pot of boiling tea in the parade yard. O’Keifes head drops as he sees an officer marching towards him with gusto and obvious purpose.

“Watch out lads, officer afoot. I smell either march, or a parade”. He slowly gets to his feet and performs a weary salute.
"Sergeant O’Keife, you are to take your men around the yard again, if you please" the stiff looking moustachioed lieutenant commanded.
A groan escaped the sergeant’s lips. "Christ, if ol' Nosey has me run around this yard one more time, I swear I'll feckin' lose control"
The lieutenant sprayed spittle at the sergeant in his anger "Do as you’re told without the chat, damn your eyes! Why Wellington dotes over an impertinent paddy like you is beyond my understanding! Now lead your men around this pissing yard, damnit!”
“Alright, alright... OK LADS, UP YOU GET OFF YOUR LAZY ARSES. WE’RE TO LAP AROUND THE PARADE YARD AGAIN! FULL KIT - 5 MINUTES!”
“Oh, saaaarge!” bemoaned a green looking young private “don’t they have anything useful for us to do?”
“Like what, Pike? What is it you want to do, fraternise with the local fish wives? You’re still tied too tight to your mams swaddling clothes to do anything wi’ that wormy pecker o’ yorn! Now get you hence!”
As Private Pike turned a distinct shade of red the squad chuckled and began half-hearted gathering their gear and tying the uncomfortable stocks around their necks ready for the 4th yard lap of the day…
“Honestly-“ said Private Cooper, quietly to the soldier next to him, “-if I don’t get a pop at the French soon I’m going to explode. All I’ve had since I’ve got off the boat is drill this, drill that, march here, march there!”
“I heard that, Cooper-“ the sergeant interjected, “-and believe me, you’ll be getting all the action you’ll ever need soon and it’s not something you want to wish upon youself…”

[Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Wellesley’s command tent]

General Arthur Wellesley is sat behind his desk, maps, letters and documents are spread hish-hash all-over. He is staring down his long nose at the young, but rich, corporal who's just interrupted him. He doesn't know what he wants and doesn't much care, but the boy has a rich father and so must be indulged.

“My lord, the men are growing bored and restless. I had to prevent a scuffle today between 2 ensigns. The fight was over who got the warmest soup! We need somewhere purposeful to direct their frustration. That froggy fort over yonder, just past Rolica, perhaps… “
“Lord Carline, you’re a good engineer but the day I take military advice from you is the day I resign my commission. Now, tell me, how goes the young paddy I made sergeant?”
“Paddy? My lord, if I may say, were you not born in Dubli-“
“- Sir, being born in a barn does not make one a horse”
“Ah, of course my lord, apologies. If I might go back to the business of action…”
“I take your point on that, Sir! I took it 5 minutes ago, without your help! The frog fort would already be flying some proper colours were Horse Guards not staying my hand! Thrice bedamned fools, I can not move an inch without their say lest I find myself leading some piss-pot palace guard! This is precisely why this war is not already wrapped up! Napoleon need heed no-one; he is his own master whilst I have to pander to coffee house fops! Now begone, I am busy enough without your unnecessary interferences!” the commander of the British forces then picked up his quill and turned back to the map spread on his desk, giving his visitor not another look.
“Yes, my lord”, said Lord Carline meekly in the face of Wellesley’s now legendary rage.



---


I'll pop some more on soon and get some more scenes. But that's all I have at the moment .

Please feel free to NOT take the piss I know it's not great!

 

Being bored and stuck at home waiting for a bed is not such a bad thing if you can come up with such a start. The hard thing is to keep the story going, not starting it. You should definitely give it a try when you feel like posting again.

 

Like Caradhras said, you could go somewhere with this, so long as you remember to keep working on it.

In terms of advice:

Be careful of your tenses- you swap between present and past. Now, I'm pretty sure the intro bits were supposed to be present tense, but have a look at these:

Based on what else you have written, I would suggest that the heat 'beats' and that he 'got to his feet and performed a weary salute'. That, I think, would make it feel a bit more consistent.

Hopefully that was of some assistance, without coming off as condescending.

 

When I saw that Barmy Army had posted to Creative Surge I had to take a look. Of course I expected something sports related but one of the things I love about BoM is how the members constantly surprise me.

Now I could critique a few grammatical errors but to do so would take away the Barmy Army flavor. Besides Decados beat me to the tenses with which I have a great deal of trouble.

Good job, Barmy. I hope you get bored soon and post some more.

Hokay, I did chuckle a few times but only because I thought you caught to military interaction quite well.

 

Thanks for the tips, hadn't noticed the tense thing to be honest! I'll keep an eye on it and see if I can stop doing that.

I'll try and get some more. It's just finding ways to fit scenes together and actually create a structured story that's hard!

 

I'm pretty sure that Barmy has plagarized this story, mainly due to the fact that most of the words he used were normal ones, and not incomprehensible British slang.

Anyway, to whoever actually wrote it - it's not a bad start. I'd be interested to see where it goes.

 

Well, either that, or you're becoming more literate.

 

Barmy, maybe you should make it a play instead of trying to write a short story or novel. I think your style would go well with play writing.

 

Don't listen to the grammar fanatics, they may mean well, but don't let the rules hinder your artistry!

I second that. Nothing wrong with using the present tense in stage directions.

 

It was indeed easy to imagine this as a script. A lot of dialogue and not bad either. Actually quite enjoyable. A good slap on the back and a punch to your shoulder Barms, do keep it up.

 

Not bad, Barmy, not bad at all.

I agree with everyone else - post more when you feel like it. I'm interested in what will happen next.

Nice work with dialogues, too. - (I find those the hardest parts to write, personally.)

(And yes, it's not hard to imagine your scenes as part of a script.)

 

Barmy, It is quite natural to want to write something good. When you write a story you put your spirit into it. A little friendly construtive critism doesn't hurt and can help but here on SP in Creative Surge we are writing for our own enjoyment and hopefully the enjoyment of others.

My advice: Caradhras is right don't worry about the rules too much. You'll end up getting bogged down and it just won't be fun any more. So relax and let your muse guide you.

 

Barmy in CS? Oh ho, I see Four Horsemen on the horizon...

I must say this is a side of Barms I never expected. This place is full of surprises.

 

Here’s a bit more I just did now. This took 30 mins, I’m beginning to take it seriously, hah. Probably made the same mistakes in this piece as before! See what you reckon….




“Stay where you are! Oi, get back here now! Stand and fight you cowardly in-breds!”
“Ignore the bastard, run lads! Run like Medusa herself is on your arse offering head!” shouted Sergeant O’Keife over the heads of his quickly retreating men.
“O’Keife! I’ll have you flogged raw for this! You be hanged for desertion! I’ll have you shot!” screamed Captain Birkes, commander of the light company.
“Go boil your arse! We’re rats in a barrel here! I’m not dying for your foolishness! DON’T STOP LADS, GET BACK BEHIND THE PICKET LINE! BASTARDS WON’T FOLLOW US THEN!”
Panting, Captain Birkes grabbed Sergeant O’Keife by the front of his jacket and shouted, red-faced “Why did you run! They were there for the taking! You’ve made me look a fool! I’ll have you strung up by the neck as soon as I can arrange it!”
“Don’t be a damn fool, sir! We had nothing! The French outnumbered us 3-1 and I spied cavalry hiding behind the bushes waiting for us to form line! We would all have been dead within minutes! For the sake of a small skirmish that gains the army nothing? I just saved your damned unit, be glad of it!”
“Nonsense! You’re a coward! I’ll go and see the general now; your neck will be stretched by dawn tomorrow!”
“Aye, and I’ll make sure my piss heads your way you yellow-belied arse wipe. You're the one who lost the colours".
“Damn your impertinence!” bellowed the captain as he stormed off.


[A day later]


"Bring in my divan-“ Wellesley shouted from the open window of his office to the street below. He had taken a local abandoned house as his headquarters, quite spacious but lacking in furniture.
“-and be quick about it! I will not spend another night sleeping on this hard stone! It is giving startling back pains!” Wellesley then turned back to the captain he had summoned to his presence. Appraising the captain he saw a fresh, pompous face. Chin high. Uniform immaculate. This is a man used to giving orders to his lowers, not receiving them from his betters. Christ knows, why do they insist on selling commissions to such fools when there are officers out there deserving commissions! The lieutenant general took a few paces, then lowered himself into his chair and sat back, hands crossed in front of his face.
“You know why I have summoned you, Captain Birkes?”
“No, my lord”
“Hmm… I shall give you another chance… “
A long, awkward silence ensued, during which Sir Arthur Wellesley did not take his eyes from the captain, his face giving nothing away.
“My lord, I confess I am perplexed…”
“Ah, perplexed. I must admit I am somewhat perplexed also-“ he shuffled around a few papers on his desk, then obviously finding the one he was searching for, looked back up at the captain “-did you not run into a French patrol yesterday near the Maceira river? These reports suggest you did.”
“Yes, my lord, I did”
“Ah, a truth. We’re making progress. Now, Mister Birkes, might I enquire as to the whereabouts of the standard you were carrying? The Kings colours touched by the hand of His Majesty himself?”
Captain Birke’s adams apple bobbed as he let out an audible gulp “The fault was not mine, my lord! During picket duty I saw a French patrol so I naturally gave the order to advance and drive them off! The cowards in my unit cut and run as soon as they smelled the garlic! I can not answer for them!”
“You, sir, are a fool! You are the men’s captain sir, they look to for you leadership! Your colonel knew nothing of this! YOU WILL ANSWER! Where are the kings colours?” Wellesley slammed his fists down on his desk as his to punctuate his question.
“My lord, I do not kno-“
“Then I shall tell you! They currently decorate the bedroom room of Major-General Junot! You’ve shamed yourself and disgraced your unit! I have written to Horse Guards advising them of your failure and requesting they send me a new captain to command my light company.”
“My Lord! At least give me chance to redeem myself when you meet Junot in battle! I beg of you!”
“Mister Birkes, I have no wish to die beside such a bloody fool as you. You will be returned home. You may contact your local enlisting party and rejoin as a private if you so wish… ”
Captain Birkes pursed his lips to a thin white line “No, my lord”
“Then begone. I expect you on the next boat out of here and shall not be pleased to see your face again.”
Sir Arthur Wellesley stared at the man’s back in disgust as he marched from his office and slammed the door behind him.
“Brash fool. HILL! ENTER!”
A slightly balding, and slightly overweight man casually walks in and sits down in the chair in front of Wellesley’s without waiting for invitation.
“So Arthur-“ stated Infantry Brigade Commander Rowland Hill “-what mischief is old Junot up to? It’s safe to assume he’s massing to retake the Maceira river? It would not do for us to bring in reinforcements down that channel, he’d be flanked.”
“Safe indeed to assume that, Rowland. I think he’ll be here by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow! The bastard moves quick. We must stop him then. Shall I call out the guard and ready the men to move?”
“If you would please, Rowland. I’m also giving you a new unit for now, until a new captain comes from Horse Guards. It’s a light company, currently with only 1 sergeant and a dozen men. He’s a brave man. I once saw him charge headlong into a gun battery in India. As his unit was breaking he steadied the line, alone, in the face of hill arranged quite hansom with guns. I’m certain you’ll make use of him tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Arthur. It’s a crying shame more of our officers don’t have such steel! I’ll arrange the men now.”



The intention is to go into the Battle of Vimeiro next, but I’m not totally sure how I’m going to handle that! I’ll give it a shot.

 

Haha! Barmy is writing like a little girl! If only your footiemates could see you now! Hmm, what else to say, a thread title such as this just forces me to force out a few chuckles even if the dominant feeling is envy and surprise.

 

Oi, one word to the lads... !

Envy? What's to be envious of? I can't write for toffee!

 

I can see a pattern now. Keep posting and don't worry about making "mistakes" this is a first draft after all.

 

As has been suggested, I think writing in the style of a play would suit you very well: the majority of the words you type are for dialogue rather than description and you seem to naturally use the present tense when describing actions. This bit is a good example:

You notice how you used 'stated' to describe the talking itself, but when you want to tell the reader who is doing what, you instinctively use the present? I think script-writing would be well-suited to you.

 

Ah, I see what you mean. To be honest I don't really know 'how' to write one or the other, I just write and that's how it comes out! I need some coaching or something! Probably not worth it though to be fair.

 

Barmy, you are better than you think. You are writing about something that interests you and are doing a good job of it. Sure if you decided to publish this you might want someone to polish it up a bit but don't get run out and take a crash course in how to write. That would probably ruin you.

Naturally we at BoM love our Barmy Army and it is fantastic to see this hidden talent emerge. Nothing like boredom to bring out the best or the worst in a person. This much better than kicking the dog.