Got to admit that despite being a serving foot soldier in the Tartan Army and having come through many a battle on foreign soil, I have had the good fortune never to have been sick in the kilt.

Probably the nearest I have came to disaster was in the batte against the Brazilians in Paris in 1998 when I thought that I was going to miss out due to over indulgence the day before. Fortunately, a friendly foot soldier literally dragged me to a Moroccan bar where I was given much needed medication that allowed me into the battle zone.
Mind you, Arlen, being dragged along the pavements of Paris did not do my kilt much good, it now looks like one of those battle weary regimental flags from the Napoleonic wars.

PS. footnote from foot soldier - we narrowly lost that battle but covered ourselves in dignified glory