Mick Nash - The Man, The Legend

[sparks will fly]

When I was at the big J as a JT one of our Cpl's was good mates with MN and told us that one morning in j when the briefs were upstairs the Groupie said after his int speech anyone have anything and MN raised his hand and the groupie said yes flt and MN replied would anyone like to see my Penis DT_Xtremez_30: everyone burst out laughing and MN was ordered out of the room. Have met the man when I worked in J and have to admit very funny man who was only interested in sailing or what us techies could fix on his boat for free.

 

[In Tor Wot]

Machine gun Ted

Machine gun Ted

Late 80s early 90s Mick bought a Russian ex-military motorcycle and sidecar, same style and a copy of the German types used in WWII (like this one). As it was an ex-military type it had the mount for a machine gun on the sidecar.

Being of an imaginative disposition he thought it was missing a bit so made a wooden mg, painted it black, and put it on the mount. Satisfied with his handy-work he then decided it needed an operator . . . so installed a giant teddy bear (complete with flying helmet and goggles) in the sidecar and tie-wrapped its paws to the MG.

Everything went well until he turned into the camp gates in this thing and nearly got shot by the guard . . . . OC Fed was most displeased!

 

[the offspring]

yeah come on

yeah come on

I'm Nashers darling son and carrying the torch of bad behaviour and would really like to know a bit more.

 

[Kryten]

I've just been re-reading these, and they are truly classic....i am surprised no one else out there has more stories of the Legend that is Mick Nash....

PANG......DT_Xtremez_02:

 

[St Omer]

Arctic Falloroup

Arctic Falloroup

Mick is a lot smarter than he looks. Most of the stories we know cannot be told. Naked in Norway, Plastered in Peru and Crashed into in Cyprus (by a donkey) may sound like corny film titles but they are but a few episodes in his remarkable life. I worked with him in Norway where he drove our ancient Landrover in the most appalling weather with such ease. Many younger more expensive (German) vehicles were stranded as Mick just crawled on past in second gear grinning. His secret? Just let a few pounds of pressure out of each tyre. Both Mick and I had been indoctrinated into a bewildering number of TS+ compartments and on one long winter night at Bardufoss we played ‘codeword scrabble’ with triple points for each ssh word used. Back at Colt he used to wear a large motorbike jacket over his uniform to visit SHQ, he looked like the character in ‘Blot on the Landscape’. But beneath the extrovert skin is a very clever man. I learnt more about myself from Mick than from anyone else. Shame we can’t tell the best stories.

 

[Cat of Shadows]

Pang!!

Pang!!

St Omer, your words are so wise. Mick was a breath of (not so) fresh air just at a point when I needed his sage advice and his truly outrageous alter ego.

I feel though, that I must end up being the one who delivers the PANG Story, which is my all time favourite.

It was a normal day at the Big J and Mick was very close to finishing his terms of service and he was in the process of handing of his tasks to a young prodige who he hoped would follow in all his footsteps.......clearly an unachievable task for anyone, anyhow.

A young female JO was working in Mick's office for about 6 months; what was then 4D. But within a very short space of time, Mick had named her PANG, openly calling her it in public, in much the same way as he liked to call young male JOs his young catamite (I refer to a previous post in this thread).

Well, as is always the case with young and impressionable JOs, at some point, curiosity will get the better of then and in this instance it certainly proved spectacular.

Said JO very candidly walked up to Mick's desk one day and politely asked "Flt Sgt, Why do you call me PANG?" Now at this point I can here the sucking of teeth from the readership and the NO YOU DIDN'T JUST DO THAT DID YOU? Well the JO did.

Now what makes this even funnier is that she had already asked another SNCO in the office the same question, but the Snr could not face the truth and on the spur of the moment had said, "It means Pretty And Nice Girl ma'am".

On receipt of the same question, Mick proceeds to spring from his seat, stand perfectly to attention and state as bold as brass - "Ma'am, the reason I calls you PANG is that was the noise the shovel made when it hit your face".

Enough said.............the man was a comic genius!!

 

[Sy V]

Mick, as Omer has stated, was a very intelligent bloke who was either devoid of common sense or (as I prefer to imagine) never actually gave a fcuk.
He was late arriving at Big J one morning following an unfortunate incident on his Triumph Cub. Apparently, it had caught fire whilst ticking over at a junction and Mick's instant appraisal and cure for the situation was to accelerate as fast as possible in an attempt to blow the flames out. Priceless!
If I may, I'd like to remind readers of his two main honchos, who were of a very similar disposition:

Bob Stewart
Knocker Preston

The seventies, with these three at Big J were a real hoot!

 

[St Omer]

I saw this, it was Coltishall in the mid 80's and it was a Station Call-Out. I was driving into camp past the quarters and I saw Nashers tandem heading away from the base. Mick was on the back with his head down hiding behind his young son on the front. Toby had been staying in the mess with his dad and when the hooter went off they threw the tandem over the boundry hedge and legged it.
We smiled all day at that, nice one Mick.

 

[the offspring]

You certainly can't tell me the good stuff. I'm not to be trusted.

Mick is a lot smarter than he looks. Most of the stories we know cannot be told. Naked in Norway, Plastered in Peru and Crashed into in Cyprus (by a donkey) may sound like corny film titles but they are but a few episodes in his remarkable life. I worked with him in Norway where he drove our ancient Landrover in the most appalling weather with such ease. Many younger more expensive (German) vehicles were stranded as Mick just crawled on past in second gear grinning. His secret? Just let a few pounds of pressure out of each tyre. Both Mick and I had been indoctrinated into a bewildering number of TS+ compartments and on one long winter night at Bardufoss we played ‘codeword scrabble’ with triple points for each ssh word used. Back at Colt he used to wear a large motorbike jacket over his uniform to visit SHQ, he looked like the character in ‘Blot on the Landscape’. But beneath the extrovert skin is a very clever man. I learnt more about myself from Mick than from anyone else. Shame we can’t tell the best stories.