‘Granny, I met this girl while I was in Afghanistan.’

The words the Queen doesn’t want to hear when Harry gets home.

Shame he wasn’t there for Saint Crispin’s Day.

He could have given a rousing speech on the eve of battle:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
That’s neat, that’s neat, that’s neat, that’s neat
I really love your tiger feet.*

Actually there isn’t a St Crispin’s day: the Catholic Church has demoted them, on the basis that they didn’t exist, or if they did they were Celtic shoemakers, and not saints at all. At all.

*The last two lines were removed  in the second edition on the advice of his editor.