Begging your indulgence perhaps over the next several, but your correspondent - having already served this week on a Board of Inquiry for one poor, benighted soul - has now been summoned for to serve on a court martial. It appears that he has won the Navy Legal Service lottery, and of such are the joys of shore duty made.

It has been plausibly forecast that this court martial - about which no further details are known, nor, if they were known could they be publicly shared - will last the rest of this week and all of the next. This is the military equivalent of the OJ Simpson trial, for duration. I’m knackered just thinking about it, and the day job’s not going anywhere, is it?

No. It is not.

So, unless I can get my superannuated rump excused by one or the other JAGs during voir dire - and I’m hoping that rattling the Captain Queeg-style steel balls around in my sweaty palms will do the trick, because I’m not sure, but I’m thinking, that the crocheting needles and knit hangman’s noose might just be over the top - the blogging may well be even lighter, and if possible, more trivial, than even before.

So, until next we meet, I remain your most humble, ob’t servant, etc.