Gone to the dogs (part 3)

I had stayed on the other side of the city the previous night, as I’d met this beauty from Clonskeagh on the Southside of Dublin, and she had invited me to stay the night /.../. Due to the nature of my stay I had little sleep and had to race across the city, a ten-mile journey during the morning rush hour, in order to attend this stupid meeting. I just had time to change into uniform and head for the Director’s office.
Roland Rooney, myself and the Mess Corporal were present and had to do with uncomfortable wooden chairs, while the six stone Director sat on his comfortable armchair at the top of the room. The meeting got off to a bad start, when 26-stone Roland’s chair collapsed under him and the Mess Corporal had to summon assistance to raise the Major off the floor. A few sturdy soldiers were enlisted for help, and preceeded to lift my colleague, who was gasping for breath, and they eventually re-seated him on a heavy-duty chair, which was taken from one of the other offices.
Some of the other officers and senior NCOs came to the door to see what happened after they had heard the big bang from the Director of Artillery’s office, and they could appreciate that getting Rooney of the floor was no joke. Two big soldiers stayed behind as a precaution in case the new chair didn’t handle the job, so they could swiftly grab the Major before he hit the floor again.
At last all was well and the meeting proceeded.
The Director was called ‘The Nipper Walshe’ and he was a small, thin, waspish tyrant who was disliked by most officers including his own peers. He was a well know nasty who was regarded with scorn, and very few took him seriously.
During the meeting he went into a long boring monologue, which sent me into a trance, and eventually I fell into a deep sleep and fell off the chair hitting the floor. I’m not sure if I hit my head, but I heard ‘The Nipper’ screaming at me, as I woke up, and saw that the Corporal was trying hard not to laugh. The two soldiers were embarrassed seeing an officer in this position and didn’t know what to do. ‘The Nipper’ was in a rage and his ratty face was turning purple insulted that a junior officer didn’t find him interesting and wasn’t overawed just because of his rank. There was a dead silence from my audit partners, and he threatened me, and made me stand up for the rest of his boring meeting. I almost fell asleep again standing up, but caught myself before I fell.
I never heard anything about the incident and I’m sure my Regimental Commander would have laughed at him, as he would know better than anyone that ‘The Nipper’ would bore an army to death.