Sir, No, Sir!

I was recently wearing this old ARMY T-shirt I bought at a thrift store years ago at a party, and this girl asked me if I was actually in the Army. So I said, "you know how in the movies, when they have those big, fancy galas, with rich people, and important political figures, and there's always the erudite Englishman who says something like, 'Well, if Churchill had the right mind to reposition our young troops on the Western Front, then perhaps we could have avoided such a long-winded--' at which point he always gets cut off by the token, high-ranking, heavily decorated, cynical soldier, who gruffly barks something like, 'Have you ever killed a man, son? Have you ever held your dying best friend in your arms, with his entrails spilled in your lap, as he chokes on his own blood while he tries to relay his last words to you, but you can't understand him because of the gurgling sounds?' And then the British guy turns pale and it's an awkward moment for everyone? . . . Well I'm the English pussy who has an opinion but isn't willing to fight."

A long-winded answer to a simple question? Perhaps.