Lance Corporal George Kemble, Royal Welch Fusiliers, was described in the match programme - uncharitably perhaps - as 'not the prettiest hooker in the business'. Lest we confuse what business the Army hooker was in, the notes added that, nevertheless, Kemble was 'a hard bastard'.
He needed to be. Twenty minutes into the biggest collision in services sport, won by the Army 18-13, Kemble found his craggy features being rearranged by some Navy enthusiasts at the bottom of the remains of a ruck some distance from the maintheatre of combat. It was one of many such peripheral scraps on a day of high passion.
Kemble withdrew from the fray briefly and the referee, Roy Maybank, who used to play for Escombe Park and has officiated in a few internationals, handed out yellow cards to Lance Corporal Christopher Budgen, Royal Welch Fusiliers, and the Navy prop, Petty Officer Nick Bartlett, HMS Cornwall. Not quite court-martial stuff, but the exchanges were as fierce throughout as any local derby. Which, in some ways, this was.
It is the date in the services sporting calendar that their friends and relatives wait for, a chance to descend on rugby's headquarters for a scaled down version of a Six Nations, the Varsity match without the posh bits.
And this fixture was a little special. Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of the shelling by Argentine Exocet of the HMS Sheffield during the Falklands conflict. The war was four days old and, three days previously, the Belgrano had been sent to the bottom of the Atlantic to bring home to an otherwise confused audience at home that this was no little local difficulty. Twenty sailors died on the Sheffield, 24 were injured and 242 escaped unharmed. The Belgrano lost more than 300.
Twenty years on, and British forces are on duty abroad again, this time in Afghanistan most notably. But there was no sentimentality attached to yesterday's match, no minute's silence; these are people aware of their professional responsibilities. They just got on with what has become their big day on the rugby pitch.
And in the car park. There was some serious pre-match mood-boosting. The audience here - 36,000 paid £30 apiece to get in - are a little earthier than some rugby crowds at HQ, but good-natured nevertheless. As was the rugby. It was not out of the top drawer, but not a single player on the pitch could be accused of lacking commitment.
Most impressive, skill-wise, was Private Apolesi Satala, Royal Scots, a 6ft 3in, 16st 5lb flanker, who runs like the wind. The Fijian international was everywhere in the first half, ball in one hand, his free arm extended painfully into the faces of any impertinent tackler. After returning from a tour of duty in Northern Ireland, Satala has inspired the interests of several Premiership clubs.
The Army half-backs, also, worked impressively, as a unit and individually. Captain Dan Coen, Royal Engineers, at fly-half kicked intelligently from hand and kept banging over the penalties from a variety of angles. In front of him, CFN Gareth Slade-Jones (not to be confused with GNR Rory Greenslade-Jones, Royal Horse Artillery, or, indeed, Corporal Frankie Green, Royal Engineers) was a bustling presence, quick to spot a weakness.
It was the Navy who breached the defence first, though, 15 minutes into the second half, when OM Dave Jones, HMS Dryad, got on the end of a pass from MSN Spencer Brown, Bristol Careers (forte: French horn) to score in the corner.
The Army had led 12-0 at half-time but, when the Navy put 13 points on them in quick time after the break, the excitement proved too much for one supporter, who abandoned his clothes on an admittedly warm day to streak into and out of notoriety within a minute.
The appearance of Guardsman Alfred Vakacakavanua, Scots Guards, in the 50th minute was greeted with a huge cheer. Alf, as we might be allowed to call him, occupies nine feet of vertical space when he dons his bearskin outside Buckingham Palace and is a hugely liked figure. A big hit in the Army Sevens who took the Middlesex by storm last season, he proved to be a robust force in the back row.
At the end, Capt Coen kicked the Army home, much to the disgust of the vocal Navy supporters. They will no doubt drink off their disappointment (some had made an early start) and they will be back next year to do it all again, a noisy celebration of one of sport's most appealing fixtures in an age of money-driven excess.
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