Sjt Russell's chair

I have at this late stage in my life to make a confession. It was I, Corporal Z, who caused the chair of Serjeant R 8th Hussars, to collapse; throwing the said Sjt R clattering to the floor in a most unmilitary and undignified manner. At the time, the overweight, Sjt R was acting SSM, Jimmy being away somewhere for several days. R was OK in the mornings. No problems. He let me get on with things, as in reality he had no idea how to run a Squadron office of a mechanized cavalry unit. Afternoons were very different, and difficult. The Serjeant was in the habit of lingering in the Sjt's Mess over the lunch break. His lunch appeared to be of the liquid variety. He would appear, more than a little drunk at about 1430hrs - ( 2.30pm for those of you whose military knowledge, sadly, is of a limited nature !) he would appear swaying, belching and farting, and proceed to give stupid and conflicting orders to me, all the while tipping his chair back on its back legs and farting atrociously.
Most of the time I managed by guile and tact to avoid any confrontation, however, one afternoon he was particularly aggressive and had me standing to attention for an hour or more as a result of some imagined affront to his military dignity. Not getting mad, but getting even, the next day when he was partaking of his liquid lunch, I took his army issue wooden chair apart with a mallet and re-assembled the same. His chair was whole but glueless. On his return, he began to simultaneously tip his chair and fart. The chair lasted approximately 17 minutes - they knew how to make chairs in those days - before the whole frame collapsed under his considerable weight.
He suspected me of course, but could never really believe that I would be so insubordinate towards him that I would make his chair break apart. He never really understood how it had happened. For the remaining time he 'ran' the office he was more subdued, and on two occasions never bothered coming back after lunch. In the mornings I subverted him by slipping notes of 'unknown origin' onto his desk, the notes would demand answers to fictious demands for men for fatigues, for petrol usage on un-numbered tanks, all of which, I convinced him, could only be done on his authority. He happily sent ten men or twenty men off from their duties on the tank park, ordering them to report to a bemused cook Serjeant for bottle-washing or on one occasion to a bewildered RSM for the long stands.
Happy days. Jimmy came back eventually and normal service was resumed. If only the Red Army had known how efficient we were, the cold war would have ended then and there.