Spanners!

'Well', continues Joachim, 'I can see Infanterie Regiment Number One ...'
'Yeeeees', says Emperor George suspiciously.
'But we then go straight to Number Three', continues Joachim, pointing at the banners.
'Yeeeees'.

Joachim frowns. 'So where's ...?'
'Don't say it!' shouts George, but he's too late!
'Where's Number Two?' says Joachim loudly.
'Stop it!'
Joachim blunders on, ignoring his father. 'Number Two!', he shouts at the troops. 'I need a Number Two!'

A slow, murmuring of 'fnars' begins to bubble amongst the assembled troops.

'Stop him! Stop him!' cries the emperor, pointing at the duke.

'Number Two? Number Two?' shouts Joachim, searching the line of banners.

The 'fnars' grow louder. Sensing an impending disaster, Wormer intervenes. Rushing forwards, he can see nothing better to do than give Joachim's codpiece a very hard slap. This does indeed stop Duke Joachim dead - but it replaces his investigations with a slow, long, piercing wail - a sound much like that likely to be made by a weasel who has just found himself being stuffed inside another weasel.

'Waaaaaaaaaaah!' cries Joachim clutching his Christmas winkie.

'What on earth is wrong, Duke Joachim?' asks the emperor.

'My test ...', he wheezes, pointing to his groin,  'test ..'

'Testing my patience, you bubble-headed buffoon?' asks George. 'Yes, you are sir!'

'No father', groans Joachim, 'my bal ... bal ...'

'You're ballroom dancing privileges, you nano-brained nincompoop? Consider them revoked!'

'No, my gona ... gona ...'

'Yes, you're going to be in hot water, you micro-craniumed muppet! Now, buck up! Pull yourself together! Stop your rude and risible rantings! Are you mad! Do you have a screw loose?'

'Yes', replies Joachim groaning, gingerly manipulating his codpiece, 'it's come out and now its poking me right in my ...'. 

'Cease your unwanted entendre antics, Duke Joachim! I don't want to have to have you imprisoned. I am relying on you to produce an heir'. 

'That might take ... that might take ... a bit longer than you think', says Joachim tearfully, adjusting his cod piece. 

George points meaningfully, which is his thing. 'Now, let us wrap up this sad bag of spanners before my son and heir creates any more disasters! Wormer, we shall hold our military review as soon as the remainder of the troops are assembled! And send me messages from our envoy in Zenta as soon as they arrive!'

'Indeed, sire!' replies Wormer. 'No doubt information will arrive very shortly!'

Banners!

Pogelswood - capital of the Empire of All the Fenwicks. At one of the gates, troops are parading with the new banners issued to the regiments of the recently re-uniformed army. Emperor George XIII, Minister Werner von Wormer, and Duke Joachim, George's heir, have come down from the council chambers to inspect the troops. For George and Wormer, this activity also has the advantage of  allowing Joachim's codpiece to roam free in the fresh air, making it much less likely that they will in any way come into contact with it.

To the martial sound of drums and flutes, the troops parade the flags of the various new regiments of the army.

All of the nicer banners are taken from Not By Appointment
https://nba-sywtemplates.blogspot.com/

Minister Wormer watches the troops arrive. Joachim seems very excited, and skips forward to direct the troops into line.
Wormer turns to George. 'I don't quite understand', says the minister, observing Joachim, 'given the tedious vulnerability of your Fenwickian subjects to double entendre, how Joachim's codpiece has not caused a lethal tidal wave of salacious fnarring sufficient to destroy the cohesion of the army'.
'Because the duke's accoutrement isn't double entendre', replies the emperor. 'Look at it'. He points at the appendage, waggling in the breeze. 'It's not a double entendre; it's not even a single entendre, or indeed any form that could be placed under the genus 'entendre' at all. It is exactly what it is - an enormous Christmas winkie -  and thus beyond the comprehension of most of the folk of Fenwick. It's too obvious, and so, in a sense, they can't even see it'.
'So if it was less obvious and more of an entendre ...' replies Wormer.
'Quite so - if we were to replace it with a cucumber, or a bent carrot ...'
'Or a long, creamy eclair ...'
'Stop it!' says the emperor horrified. He looks worriedly about. 'You can't even safely mime the words 'long creamy eclair' in Fenwick. Are you mad?'
Wormer frowns. 'So if my wife actually opened her bodice and popped out both her ...'
'Absolutely fine, Wormer'.
'But if she picked up two melons and held them in front of her chest ...'
'Fatal. Just fatal. And, it's important to note Wormer, a capital offence in Fenwick. Bringing melons into proximity with one another, or agitating them in a manner likely to cause a breach of the peace - which, just so that you're clear, Wormer, is any movement whatsoever - will have you locked up for years. Not even I could save you!'

The troops begin to form line, the banners waving proudly in the breeze - not unlike Joachim's codpiece.

Wormer peers at the banners. 'Sire, these banners look exactly like the Nabstrian banners, which is to say Prussian banners, but with the central eagle crudely removed and replaced by the insignia of Grand Fenwick'.

George nods. 'This was exactly the look that I was going for'.

'But my lord, won't this, along with having the exact same uniforms as the Nabstrians, which is to say Prussian uniforms, create untold confusion when we fight Nabstria?'

'Not at all. Distinguishing our troops from the Nabstrians, or indeed any other of the collection of the fractious weasels that comprise the other armies of Mittelheim will be easy. Ours will be the troops manoeuvering competently, obeying orders, and delivering volleys in a lethal fashion - whereas they will be the sack of sinuous military invertebrates drooling their way across the battlefield. Our troops are the Spartans of Mittelheim!'

'Aroo!' cries Joachim, helpfully.

'Father', says Joachim. 'Counting the regiments, I think that there's a problem!'

'What?' says George suspiciously.