‘We aren’t allowed to serve squaddies’: Pub refuses custom of soldiers back from Afghanistan after parade through town

Daily Mail:

  • Staff at The Bull refused to serve troops on Tuesday after their homecoming march in Romford, Essex
  • The 1st Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment held the parade to celebrate the end of their final tour to Afghanistan
  • Sixteen of their troops had been killed while on duty
  • The pub apologised for the incident and said it ‘was a mistake’

By Alex Ward

PUBLISHED: 04:04 EST, 9 November 2012 | UPDATED: 07:59 EST, 9 November 2012

A pub refused to serve soldiers as they celebrated their return from fighting in Afghanistan in a parade through the town.

Staff at The Bull told stunned troops that they were ‘not allowed to serve squaddies’ when the troops tried to order a round after their homecoming march in Romford, Essex on Tuesday.

The astonishing ban was imposed on the 600-strong 1st Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment, in which 16 men were killed in Afghanistan, on the day they paraded through town to mark the end of its final tour of the war-torn country.

After the 1st Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment paraded through Romford to mark the end of its final tour of Afghanistan they were refused bar service at The Bull in the town's market placeWon’t serve squaddies: At the end of the 1st Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment parade through Romford on Tuesday (pictured) marking the end of its final tour of Afghanistan, troops were refused bar service at The Bull in the town’s market place

The soldiers’ proud families and friends had joined thousands of locals and officials to cheer and salute them in the high-profile Remembrance Day week event.

The tough mechanised infantry unit, famously known as The Vikings, has just been awarded the Freedom of the Borough of Havering.

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About Eeyore

Canadian artist and counter-jihad and freedom of speech activist as well as devout Schrödinger's catholic
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One Response to ‘We aren’t allowed to serve squaddies’: Pub refuses custom of soldiers back from Afghanistan after parade through town

  1. Richard says:

    Rudyard Kipling
    Tommy

    I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
    The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
    The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
    I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
    O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
    But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
    The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
    O it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play.

    I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
    They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
    They sent me to the gallery or round the music-’alls,
    But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!
    For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, wait outside”;
    But it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide,
    The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
    O it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide.

    Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
    Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
    An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
    Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.
    Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul?”
    But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
    The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
    O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.

    We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
    But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
    An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints,
    Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;
    While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be’ind”,
    But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind,
    There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
    O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind.

    You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’ all:
    We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
    Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
    The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.
    For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!”
    But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country” when the guns begin to shoot;
    An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
    An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

    Pay attention.

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