"Hmm" I pondered "Is there a happier alternative for a spare underfed fed boy like myself John?" ( you could call him John, in fact he insisted on it unless you were summoned to his study for all the wrong reasons then it was Sir but John was OK if you were about to stomp about in his stables up to your neck in horse sxxt and not even an iced bun on offer after you'd finished.
Now at the time I had about two or three years to go before demob and anything would have been better than spending those years lobbing horse droppings into farm trailers so I got serious -
"Right John, you win, teach me to ride but, more to the point, how to stay on Dobbin here without falling off"
"Right.Well we'll forget about 'Dobbin' here for the moment" referring to some old hack with even less life in it than the average KH schoolboy on PE Parade as he called out to Mrs JW beaming from ear to ear at the prospect of me flying through the air and back down again and preferably head first as would have been most appreciated -
"Can you saddle up Thunder Bolt and take Dizzy D here out into the paddock and teach him how to sit a horse and stay sat "
"Er Thunder Bolt? I cautiously inquired "Why's it called Thunder Bolt, haven't you got something a little more cuddly like a Trixie maybe, or a Cuckoo or something but anything other than that!" as Mrs Woollan led out 17 hands worth of steaming evil with a leg on each corner and a positive look of death about it.
"Well" informed our beloved headmaster who you should avoid at all costs after having just knocked off a packet of ten and reeking of tobacco "That's all we have available at the moment" Then turning to the pile of horse dung and empty farm trailer "Of course, there's always the pitch fork "
"Well, of course there is John, now why didn't I think of that !" as I couldn't have been happier tossing huge fork fulls of horse manure into the trailer as Mrs Woollan led a most disappointed Thunder Bolt back into the stables...