On the fiddle..........

Let me tell you about the insidiousness of corruption. Over a half-century ago I and my chum Clive were posted to the same regiment as subalterns fresh out of the egg.  Clive was assigned as ‘Battalion Messing Officer’ i.e. in charge of the cook-house. The Cook-Sergeant greeted him with the words ‘Usual arrangement about the milk, sir?’ Not knowing what he was talking about, Clive gave the standard young officer’s reply ‘Carry on, Sergeant’.

At the end of the week a brown envelope containing an interesting quantity of drinking vouchers was left in his office. Now, Clive was a bit of a Jack-the-Lad from  a famous family, and ran a dirty great Railton 4.5 litre vintage sports car, not easy on a 2^nd Lieutenant’s pay of 98p a day. This unexpected bonus was more than welcome and continued until he left the Army.

Here is how it worked.

The War Office specified a soldier’s daily rations. This included a quantity of milk per man. Now, soldiers don’t drink milk and in the normal course of events most of it would be poured away at the end of each day.

Thinking that this was a terrible waste the dairyman came to an arrangement with the Cook-Sergeant whereby only half would be delivered – more than sufficient – but the Cook-Sergeant signed for the full invoiced amount. Half the profit would go to the dairyman and half to the cookhouse staff.

Was this the perfect victim-less crime?

Clive retired a few years ago as Vicar of a pleasant rural parish.

Another ‘victimless’ instance came my way a few years ago.

The visa staff (local) in the British High Commission would track visa applications and when one had been approved, the applicant was approached and told that for payment of a ‘rent’ his application would be approved quickly. The applicant duly paid over a substantial sum of money,  which he could have saved if he had been honest. Both were satisfied.

In my book what is worse than hacking, phone tapping and leaking is ‘briefing’, the disgusting practice of politicians rubbishing their colleagues to the media behind their backs. Maybe I’m old fashioned. At school the ‘sneak’ was ostracised and often thumped. The ‘grass’, the  ‘nark’, the informer have always been particularly despised.