Thinking of him still makes me laugh.
When Andy and Crispin were trying to get into Sandhurst I rather assumed the army would take Crispin (Durham school, daddy a Lieutenant-Colonel) and overlook the claims of a rather less-privileged Gloucester boy. So I was pretty impressed when they actually made the right call.
However, if you were to fall through the looking-glass into Sandown racecourse for the Royal Artillery Cup (yesterday), or the Grand Military Cup (in a couple of weeks), you'd never believe them capable of that decision.
It's fence-to-fence chinless wonders, as the Harrys, Ollies and Tarquins of this sceptred isle gather on the concourse to cheer on their double-barrelled officer chums - Trice-Rolph anyone?
And the greatest of them all was the now sadly-retired Dominic Alers-Hankey. I doubt he actually won the race but he certainly upheld the proud legacy of Balaclava as I'm fairly sure that over the years I've seen him fall at every single one of Sandown's fences.
Iain and I used to make an annual event of it, with our finest voices - me joining in the braying with a "come on dear old Alers-Hankey", and Iain giving it the full Hornchurch "Oi, Oi, come on my babby" as Hankey-Pankey eats dirt at the Pond Fence.
Yesterday he and I raised a glass to the Queen and remembered those who have fallen for our pleasure. Hurrah Hussar Hurrah!
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