Posted on 03/18/2013 3:33:21 PM PDT by naturalman1975
War hero Corporal Johnson Beharry, who saved the lives of 30 soldiers in Iraq, has married his girlfriend in a ceremony at a London registry office today.
The decorated soldier and his glamorous bride Mallissa Venice Noel were photographed leaving Old Marylebone Town Hall after today's service, which took place under a veil of military-style secrecy.
Guests at the wedding were ordered to hand over their phones before the ceremony after Cpl Beharry and his fiancee signed a magazine deal.
Friends and family who attended the wedding had to give in their phones to make sure photographs of the happy couple weren't leaked. The couple have signed a photo deal with Hello! magazine for an undisclosed sum.
Dressed in full military uniform, the 33-year-old soldier arrived for the ceremony just before 11am via a back entrance.
The waiting media didn't catch a glimpse of 27-year-old bride-to-be Mallissa's arrival as she was also ushered into the venue through a side entrance.
Further efforts were made to keep Mallissa's dress under wraps when she left after the hour-long service.
(Excerpt) Read more at dailymail.co.uk ...
Winston Churchill gives a hint of the mindset I am talking about:
In the closing decade of the Victorian era the Empire had enjoyed so long a spell of almost unbroken peace, that medals and all they represented in experience and adventure were becoming extremely scarce in the British Army. The veterans of the Crimea and the Indian Mutiny were gone from the active list. The Afghan and Egyptian warriors of the early eighties had reached the senior ranks. Scarcely a shot had been fired in anger since then, and when I joined the 4th Hussars in January, 1895, scarcely a captain, hardly ever a subaltern, could be found throughout Her Majesty's forces who had seen even the smallest kind of war. Rarity in a desirable commodity is usually the cause of enhanced value and there has never been a time when war service was held in so much esteem by the military authorities or more ardently sought by officers of every rank. It was the swift road to promotion and advancement in every arm. It was the glittering gateway to distinction. It cast a glamour upon the fortunate possessor alike in the eyes of elderly gentlemen and young ladies. How we young officers envied the senior Major for his adventures at Abu Klea! How we admired the Colonel with his long row of decorations! We listened with almost insatiable interest to the accounts which they were good enough to give us on more than one occasion of stirring deeds and episodes already melting into the mist of time. How we longed to have a similar store of memories to unpack and display, if necessary repeatedly, to a sympathetic audience! How we wondered whether our chance would ever come whether we too in our turn would have battles to fight over again and again in the agreeable atmosphere of the after-dinner mess table? Prowess at polo, in the hunting-field, or between the flags, might count for something. But the young soldier who had been on active service and 'under fire' had an aura about him to which the Generals he served under, the troopers he led, and the girls he courted, accorded a unanimous, sincere, and spontaneous recognition.
The want of a sufficient supply of active service was therefore acutely felt by my contemporaries in the circles in which I was now called upon to live my life. This complaint was destined to be cured, and all our requirements were to be met to the fullest extent. The danger as the subaltern regarded it which in those days seemed so real of Liberal and democratic governments making war impossible was soon to be proved illusory. The age of Peace had ended. There was to be no lack of war. There was to be enough for all. Aye, enough and to spare. Few indeed of the keen, aspiring generations of Sandhurst cadets and youthful officers who entered the Royal Service so light-heartedly in these and later years were to survive the ghastly surfeit which fate had in store. The little tidbits of fighting which the Indian frontier and the Soudan were soon to offer, distributed by luck or favour, were fiercely scrambled for throughout the British Army. But the South African War was to attain dimensions which fully satisfied the needs of our small army. And after that the deluge was still to come!
from 'My Early Life: A Roving Commission' by Winston Churchill. 1930.
Nice post. Thank you. I’ve read about the British overseas military from the Zulu’s to Afghanistan. Interesting reading. I read Churchill’s writings about his escapades during the Boer War then when he was an up and coming star in British politics. Fascinating gentleman he was.
Seems odd calling it a 'service', like it's a religious gathering.
I was hoping she isn’t a world-class bitch, but it looks likes she is, so good luck to the soldier.
It's no more confusing than it is for the Army lance corporal I met. He was telling tales of his service in Iraq the first time he showed up at a local bar. (I guess being a plain corporal just wasn't enough for him.) He did get more than a bit embarrassed and left quite hurriedly when I pointed out that while the Army doesn't have lance corporals, the Marines do. Funny thing, nobody's seen him since that first time.
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