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This AAR great if not for the Trailer alone!:D
 
Clydwich, I now dub you this AAR's very own, official "Pidgin Afrikaans to English Translator"! I'll get round to producing you a shiny badge soon.

Well, I'm only a dutchman, pretending to understand Afrikaans (which is a very similar language), so I will make mistakes.... ;)
 
Clydwich, I now dub you this AAR's very own, official "Pidgin Afrikaans to English Translator"! I'll get round to producing you a shiny badge soon.

hey! I translated the great Aboulgharib's name and got no badge! Grr. :)
 
Well, I'm only a dutchman, pretending to understand Afrikaans (which is a very similar language), so I will make mistakes.... ;)

I wouldn't worry - I'm a Scotsman taking scraps I've heard from a South African colleague and shoe-horning it into an AAR. You're in good company ;)

hey! I translated the great Aboulgharib's name and got no badge! Grr. :)

Yeah, but you got acknowledged as a wise and noble scholar or something such like (I think). Besides, any more chat like that young man and it's The List for you ;)
 
Yeah, but you got acknowledged as a wise and noble scholar or something such like (I think). Besides, any more chat like that young man and it's The List for you ;)

I remember being the scholar, just tried a bit hard in case you have forgotten that :). On the other hand, I am sure Aboulgharib Almighty will not take me into his list. I was his father's wise and noble scholar. Only a remarkably flatulent king would have done that ;).
 


As you can see from the above, I've been given the rare honour of being interviewed by canonized, he of Timelines fame. If you've not checked out his AAR yet I can't recommend it more highly - it really is a treat to read!

Anyway, if you fancy getting to know yours truly a bit better, click on the image above and take a read!

(oh, and for the record I am NOT a Highlander...)
 
Brilliant hilarious stuff with double-awesomeness!

Admit it you are Terry Pratchet in dísguise, aren't you?

Why thank you!

And no, I'm not the great man I'm afraid!
 
Congratulations!

Wonder if I'll ever get that honour. But I guess you need to actually read the Timelines if you want to. X|

It is well worth a read. Daunting due to it's size, yes, but it hooks you :)
 
Part 4

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"Dutchman".

As insults go, it's not very...well...insulting is it? Even under the harsh light of national stereotyping the Dutch managed to fare quite well. Whereas the British are generally seen as violent, xenophobic drunks (1), the French as sly and cheese-eating, the Germans as cold, anally-retentive, Teutonic psychopaths, the Italians as sleazy, womanizing cowards and the Americans as brash, loud-mouthed braggarts, the Dutch are generally thought of as chilled out, liberal and welcoming (2). If you were planning on starting a fight with someone you would probably traditionally open hostilities by yelling something like "I'm going to fucking kill you!" to your opponent rather than looking him straight in the eye and screaming "DUTCHMAN!"

However, to the people of a small nation like the Orange Free State which was desperately trying to hold onto its sense of self-identity in the face of foreign aggression, any suggestion to a Vrystaat burger that he was anything other than an out-and-out Boer was fighting talk. An insult such as "Dutchman" carried with it overtones of treason, cowardice, submission to colonial rule and a distinct lack of self-identity.

It should therefore came as no surprise to the burgers of Groot Slaperig that Lucas Lugstapper's nickname was "Dutch".

Or "Dutchy".

Or "The Dutchster".

Initially he had tried to fight back with reasoned argument, pointing out that his family had been in the Orange Free State since the beginning and were hardy pioneers to a man (and woman). However, such observations crumbled in the face of such well thought out and reasoned responses like "Oh - I'm sorry! I'm afraid I can't understand you, DUTCHY, because I don't speak DUTCH because I'm not a DUTCHMAN!"

After a few weeks of this he gave up trying to fight it, accepted the nickname and let it nestle like a mischievous little paper umbrella in the ill-tasting cocktail of teasing that was routinely thrown in his face.

It wasn't always clear why the other teenagers picked on Lucas. Certainly his physical appearance didn't help. A tall, gangly youth with a shock of curly red hair, Lucas always gave the impression that he wasn't entirely in control of his own body. When he ran he was often accompanied by hoots of laughter from his peers as his ill-proportioned limbs flapped about comically in a frenzy of movement. He was surprisingly strong given his emaciated appearance (years of farm work will do that to a boy) but nonetheless would go as red as a beetroot whenever engaged in physical exertion - something else that his friends found hilarious.

However, rather than being a fragile little soul who was bottling up years and years of bullying and resentment and who would one day expunge it all in an orgy of violence involving his abusers and a hail of rifle fire, Lucas Lugstapper was a dreamer who one day believed he would leave his uncle's farm and travel to one of the big cities to fulfill a greater destiny. Because of this, and because he was quite passive by nature, he tried to fit in with the other kids in town and get on with them - and at times he did. You see, despite the name-calling and the teasing, all of the other teenagers DID like Lucas - there was something inherently likable about him. He may have been an ill-coordinated, gangly, ginger buffoon, but he was their ill-coordinated, gangly, ginger buffoon. Nonetheless, this didn't stop them teasing him with insane regularity. It was just how things were.

~~~

The diminutive figure being escorted by the two British soldiers managed to maintain an air of gravitas despite her sooty face and dirty clothing. She was short - barely five foot tall - and wore a dress, which, although designed for traveling, was typically Victorian in its lack of practicality. As she picked her way through the ruined campsite she was forced to hitch the dress up to prevent herself tripping - something that made her look like a rather well-manner meringue. Her long brown hair was worn in a bun, and although she carried herself with the sense of poise and dignity that only came naturally to the upper classes, furious anger danced in her dark eyes. The flames of the fires still burning in the ruined campsite gave off a light the blazed dully off the many pieces of jewelry that she woman wore.

Suddenly the soldiers came to a halt in front of two officers, but the woman showed no fear and merely raised an eyebrow and gave a snort of disgust.

"Colonel Van Moordenaar, I should have known. Only you can be so bold. The British resident will not stand for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic..."

Van Moordenaar raised a gloved hand and jabbed a bony finger in her direction. His voice was low and threatening.

"Don't play games with me, your grace. You weren't on any mercy mission this time. Several letters were snuck aboard your convoy by Boer terrorists. I want to know what happened to those letters they gave you."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the British Mission on a diplomatic mission to Bloemfontein..."

Van Moordenaar snarled.

"You are part of the Boer uprising and a traitor!"

He waved his arm angrily at the two soldiers.

"Take her away."

As the woman was turned and marched back to where the rest of the prisoners were being held the other officer, a young lieutenant fresh out of the Cape Colony, turned to the Colonel. Worry creased his brow and when he spoke his tone was measured, thoughtful and concerned.

"Holding her is dangerous. If word of this gets out it could generate sympathy for the Boers in Parliament."

Van Moordenaar was dismissive.

"I have traced the Boer spies to her. Now she is my only link to finding their hidden camps."

"You realise she'll die before she tells you anything."

A cruel smile twisted Marius' lips.

"Leave that to me. Dispatch a messenger to Fort George and inform them that we've discovered the convoy and that all aboard were killed by natives."

As the lieutenant turned to leave a captain rushed up and snapped a salute. He looked flustered - his face almost as red as his uniform jacket.

"Colonel, the letters are not anywhere to be found. However, our scouts report that some slaves were seen fleeing the camp during the fighting."

"She must have given the letters to the slaves. Lieutenant! Send a patrol out to track them down. See to it personally, Lieutenant. There'll be no one to stop us this time."


1. Within the British isles their are further sub-groupings of stereotype. The Scots are seen as surly, miserly, slightly frightening drunks (3), the English as haughty, aloof, self-important drunks, the Irish as happy-go-lucky, cheery, leprechaun-like drunks who say things like "to be sure" and "begora" and the Welsh as being obsessed with singing and rugby. However, given your average Welsh male-voice choir's penchant for singing about misery, oppression and mining disasters there's every chance that they enjoy a good drink too - either to cheer themselves up or to allow them to further plumb the depths of booze-addled despair in a search for even more depressing lyrics. To the denizens of Great Britain and the Emerald Isle such stereotypes are entirely natural and necessary. To the rest of the world such behavior is patently ridiculous and confusing given the British Isles' tiny size and your average foreigner's inability to distinguish between the various people who live there. Even then, that's still no excuse for greeting any British or Irish person you meet with "Hey! Are you English?"

2. ...although it is general considered that these relaxed aspects of the Dutch national character are either chemically or herbally enhanced and those doing the welcoming tend to be scantily clad young ladies practicing the world's oldest profession.

3. Just ask any Scot who has lived "Down South". Upon hearing your Scottish accent the average citizen of the South East assumes that you're either a bank robber on the run from the law, a mindless thug looking to relieve them of their wallet or some kind of gangster. When it's revealed that you're actually an IT project manager, the look on their faces tends to be a mixture of relief and crushing disappointment. This may or may not be the author's personal experience...
 
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Not the princess! I mean duchess :p
 
Han Solo's name never made sense in Star Wars, so it does not necessarily need a meaning here. So I suggest I become Han Solo in this AAR, one of the biggest heroes of my faulty childhood :) .
 
Dammit I wanted to ask the same ^^. I wonder how chewie will look like perhaps a chinese or indian ruffian with a cut out tongue.
MAn this truly is Boer Wars simply great. Keep the updates coming :).
 
the Dutch are generally thought of as chilled out, liberal and welcoming (2).

Humm, this must be a fairly recent (as in last 60 years) stereotype then....
In my historical opinion we were more known as penny pinching sharp eyed tradesman, or full of god preachers. And sometimes both at the same time.....
 
It should therefore came as no surprise to the burgers of Groot Slaperig that Lucas Lugstapper's nickname was "Dutch".

Drat, and here I was, laughing out loud, because I figured it out from this name....
This is a proper Boer name, by the way. Lugstapper, he who walks the sky....
In dutch this would have been Luchtstapper, but then, the Boers (sensibly) did away with a lot of confusing spelling.
 
In dutch this would have been Luchtstapper, but then, the Boers (sensibly) did away with a lot of confusing spelling.

No wonder the Boers and British didn't get on... We Brits are all about confusing spellings!