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New Blackmore Vale, November 12, 2021
blackmorevale.net
Trading Playboy glimpses for frogs, The renowned international explorer COLONEL JOHN BLASHFORD SNELL writes for the New Blackmore Vale magazine As adventure training officer at Sandhurst, my job was to despatch officer cadets around the globe during the long summer vacation on worthwhile projects for the benefit of their characters and the least possible detriment to the Empire, as the Commandant put it. Scanning the world map in my office (labelled Training Area), Ethiopia seemed a suitably wild land to take a party of cadets on a zoological quest. A letter from my godfather, who knew the Emperor, resulted in an invitation from the King of Kings, Elect of God and Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Thus in 1965 60 wellarmed, budding zoologists set out to enhance the natural history collections of the British Museum. I recall a particular quest for a rare species of mongoose believed to exist in the South of the country. Reaching the end of the trail we left our Land Rovers and proceeded on foot. Two army drivers would remain with them and I guessed that as soon as we disappeared they would be off sunbathing. To keep them gainfully occupied, I handed out two large plastic tubs and indicated a nearby mosquito-ridden swamp. “The museum is in urgent need of small green frogs. By the time I return I expect
EASILY SPOTTED: The late Kay Thompson of Jersey and the Emperor’s pet cheetah
these to be full,” I said. “Sir,” they replied, in a tone verging on dumb insolence. Three days later, having collected the mongoose, we marched into camp and, as expected, the soldiers were dozing in the shade. “Frogs,” I bellowed. “In tub,” said one. To my astonishment both containers were crammed with writhing green reptiles.
the expedition that I discovered their method. They would go to a village with a copy of Playboy. As soon as the local men had gathered round, they would open the centre pages and permit a quick peep, and then say ‘Three frogs, one look’. Thus encouraged, the natives would rush off to collect frogs. On our return to Addis Ababa, we were invited to meet His Imperial Majesty and report on our quest. The invitation was extended to everybody, and I wondered whether the court realised just how many we were. Protocol demanded one bowed to the Emperor three times. Once on entry, again halfway up the red carpet and finally when right before him. On leaving his
‘Bow down, look between your legs: You can see lions’ ‘How on earth did you do it?’ ‘Oh, was nuffin’ really, just a bit of hard work,’ they replied with assumed modesty. Much impressed, I recommended them for promotion! It was long after
presence one had to repeat the process in reverse. No problem, you may think, for well-drilled officer cadets, but Haile Selassie had his pet lions roaming the throne room and I could imagine a terrible incident that might result if a cadet, walking backwards, should fall over one of the royal beasts. I consulted Tommy, an Ethiopian working at the British Embassy, who said: “You will notice that we cast ourselves down very low when bowing to the Emperor, pressing our foreheads upon the carpet.” “Steady on,” I said, “we’re British you know – a stiff little bow is all that is usually required.” “I’m not suggesting you be obsequious,” replied Tommy, “but if you cast yourself down low you can look between your legs and see the lions lurking behind you.” By this means 60 officer cadets and two ladies in skirts successfully entered
