I am a US soldier based in Greenland, and soon I'll be doing something really f**king stupid

By Lt Col Martin Bishop, US Army

NOT a bad posting, this Greenland one. Cold but you’re inside for most of it. However I do fear that any day now I’ll be ordered to do something really f**king dumb. 

There’s about 150 of us here at Pituffik Space Base, you see. Pretty much all long-distance surveillance specialists because that’s what the base does. Strategically it’s very important. It’s an intelligence nexus. Unfortunately, America isn’t.

And our commander-in-chief, I fear, has the wrong impression. He believes there are thousands of us and that we’re heavily armed elite Special Forces combatants awaiting the order to execute a hostile takeover. An order that will soon come.

‘Capture the leader and deal with any resistance with extreme prejudice’ it will say, or something similar from an action movie. Our natural response of ‘What, Jens-Frederick Nielsen, the professional badminton player? And there isn’t any’ will be unwelcome.

Instead we’ll have to venture onto the sub-zero streets with guns, which will be so embarrassing when we’re pointing them at the woman who imports our Coors specially, and tell functionaries we’re in charge now. They’ll be so disappointed in us.

Then someone, probably my boss Julia against all her better instincts, will have to send a ‘Mission Accomplished’ message and we’ll be instructed to hold our positions. Meanwhile nobody will be keeping an eye on the weather or long-range missile deployment.

Then what? Who’s going to bring us food and DVDs? He can’t station an aircraft carrier off the coast, it’ll get stuck in pack ice. Plus there’s the Sirius Dog Sled Patrol who actually are an elite force, despite the name, and would love a bit of guerrilla warfare.

Nonetheless, we’ll follow the orders from a man who knows nothing about our situation or the world. I just won’t be able to meet Sara at the local bar’s eye anymore, that’s all.

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I went on Thomas Skinner's mental health walk and I'm lower than I've ever been in my life

By Martin Bishop, relapsed depressive

BEGIN 2026 with a delightful stroll to and from a pub with the absolute guvnor and a solid group of lads? That’ll sort out my mental health. Bosh, trademark Thomas Skinner!

Cause life can seem like a bleak, thankless slog. And I thought a walk around the Brentwood countryside with a mattress salesman who lost both The Apprentice and Strictly Come Dancing would cheer me up for reasons that currently escape me. 

I gave old Thomas Skinner the benefit of the doubt. Men’s mental health is important and not given the time it deserves. He’s doing this to heal us. Two-and-a-half hours of self-proclaimed geezers yelling ‘Bosh!’ later, I feel men deserve to live lives of quiet despair.

After all there’s mental health and there’s grovelling to a man with Z-level fame who provably believes himself far more popular than he is. Which is pretty rough company when he’s planned a walk which ends before the pub even opens. 

When I asked him if the loneliness ever goes away, he punched me on the arm and laughed. It was at around this point that I began to suspect he might not be a mental health professional.

Conversation with other walkers was also limited. I tried to open up about my woes but the chat was steered back to pints and where to buy dodgy Fire Sticks to stream Championship games. 

Far from lifting my mood, my spirits sank. The Peaky Blinders caps and North Face jackets were pushing me closer to the abyss and a yawning vortex of darkness looked like an inviting release.

Saying goodbye to these twats after enduring their company for a few miles cheered me briefly, but now I’m lower than I’ve ever felt. In all seriousness, bosh.