ANOTHER week, another story about Prince Harry shooting/ being questioned over killing rare birds/ drinking/ looking like a prat while he's out on the town. Don't worry if you missed it, there'll be a similar story along very soon.

Meanwhile Big bro William spends his days shooting Bambis and getting bladdered with the girlfriend who would be queen.

This is par for the royal course, of course, but sticks out like a sore thumb at this time of the year when we prepare to remember those who have laid down their lives.

While William and Harry spend their days firing at our feathered friends another Harry, Harry Patch, found the time to launch the Royal British Legion's Poppy Appeal. Despite being aged 109 and in a wheelchair. It's what you'd expect from a veteran of the trenches of the First World War and so is Harry Patch's declaration that he felt "humbled" to be asked.

But should it really be like this? Should we really have to keep wheeling out these ancient gentlemen to remind us not to forget?

Every year the Royal British Legion politely makes its heartfelt plea for more young people to come forward to help sell poppies.

Two names spring to my mind immediately. And what I'd like to know is why the hell they haven't sprang to the minds of the minions who are paid to mind the Princes William and Harry? Isn't there one person on the Clarence House staff who could suggest that if these two really can't go to the frontline, the least they can do is get their over-privileged backsides round the country, cheering up the troops.

Because they've got beggar all else to do, haven't they?

I know what you're thinking; you're thinking, oh dear, they're both poor, motherless boys and it isn't their fault if they're not allowed to go to war and all the rest of it.

Well, William is 25. At that age his mum was already juggling two kids, a grumpy husband and a looming mistress and changing lives by shaking the hands of lepers and those with full-blown Aids.

Meanwhile her sons are turning into a pair of embarrassing, drunken Hoorays whose idleness is so pronounced it makes even their step-mum look like a grafter.

William and Harry are a lot younger and fitter than Harry Patch and the Second World War veterans who flog poppies on street corners.

Is there any reason why the Princes can't sell poppies or spend their days chatting to young soldiers like Paratrooper Ben Parkinson, who lost the use of his legs and part of his brain after being blown up in Afghanistan?

Why don't they use their influence to expose the scandal of decrepit buildings and damp accommodation that comprise much of military married quarters? Or the horror of the filthy, indifferent NHS wards where too many of our returning troops are shuffled off to be treated? After all, you can bet your boots there won't be filthy floors and excrement-encrusted bedlinen if a hospital knew that an HRH was coming to call.

If the pampered Princes really must drink, then why can't they do it occasionally in the Royal British Legion Clubs (the clue's in the name) and enjoy a pint with veterans and young servicemen back from the frontline?

I think I already know the reason. But I wouldn't mind being proved wrong.