Tricky wallahs, sitcoms. In Fairly Secret Army, writer David Nobbs took the basics of his Jimmy Anderson character from The Fall And Rise Of Reginald Perrin extended the personality and landed a new series. But while the same actor, Geoffrey Palmer, played the part, viewers were no longer seeing Jimmy but Harry. Harry Kitchener Wellington Truscott.

True, there were many similarities between Harry and his role-model. Like Jimmy, Harry is a retired army johnnie, formerly a major with the Queen's Own West Mercian Lowlanders. Trouble is, although the services have retired him, Harry has not retired the service. He is singularly unqualified to do anything else, and still talks like a military machine ('cock-ups', 'nosh', 'caper', 'hush-hush', 'mum's the word', and so on).

One of the many highlights of The Fall And Rise Of Reginald Perrin was the episode in which Jimmy displayed to Reggie his secret cache of rifles, put aside 'in case the balloon goes up'. In Fairly Secret Army that inflatable object - Harry believes - is about to ascend. He supposes there's a battle to be fought, to 'rekindle the spirit of the British Lion' by forming a group dedicated to fighting the 'wet-leftie-feminist-loonies' taking over the country. He and his fraudulent and dangerous right-wing cronies set out to rescue the country from itself.

They're destined to fail, fighting among themselves much of the time. No surprise, really - Harry has been a failure all his life, not to mention two sandwiches short of a picnic. And naive to the point of being ripped off at every turn, he doesn't have a clue how to relate to people, least of all the opposite sex, with one wrecked marriage behind him and more failings ahead, despite becoming engaged to Nancy. 'Treacherous chaps, women.' Indeed.

Shot on film and without an audience, Fairly Secret Army lasted two series but received little attention from viewers or critics. As Harry would have said, 'awkward blighters'.