Monty, his part in my victory - Spike Milligan [11]
“It’ll kill us,” said Edgington.
He spat a mouthful on the fire, it exploded in a sheet of flame.
“See? When you go to the bog, for Christ’s sake don’t strike a match.”
We mellowed. Harry got hiccups.
Edg: “I wonder — hic — what’s going to hick — happen to — us next —”
He didn’t have long to wait for the answer — a spark shot out of the fire and burnt him.
We sat close to the fire. The smoke kept the mossies away — an occasional brave one would die under hand as it landed.
“Silly sods. I wouldn’t risk my life to pass on malaria,” said Fildes. “I think I’ll turn in.”
Through the night a 3 ton lorry, with a mosquito net across the back, was home to four lads from London, who slept sounder and safer than those in bomb ridden London. It seemed all wrong, but it was alright by me.
Scottish soldiers surrendering their underwear to the enemy
A letter told of my eccentric father’s career as a Captain. He had decided that the RAOC Depot at Reigate was wide open to paratroops. He took it upon himself to make a life-like raid on the Depot. He briefed a dozen NCO’s. They chose mid-day. The officers are in the Mess, having a pre-lunch pissup — the men are queueing in the mess hall. Suddenly the cookhouse staff are surrounded by men with black faces and tommy guns. Their leader is speaking in a strange patois. “‘Ands up, Schnell, git against that bleedin’ wall, Englander please.” In the Officers Mess from behind the bar arose 5 men with blackened faces, one wearing a German helmet, and holding a machine pistol, “Last orders pliss undt hands up.” It was my father. The officers were then locked in an office where it was simple to phone police. A constable arrived, and my father then explained the whole scheme. The Colonel said:
“You’re a bloody fool,” and had him posted to RAOC, Elstree.
We were up at first light and away through Tunis on the Carthage road.
“Let’s play some party games,” I said, “I make up the first line and you have to rhyme the next, ‘There was a young gunner called Harry’ ”
KIDGELL:
Told the MO he wanted to marry,
EDG:
The MO said Oh?
ALF:
Is it Bexhill Flo?
ME:
He said No, it’s old Calcutta Carrie.
The blue Mediterranean flanked the road, we were as free as we would ever be in our lives. We pulled up at a lonely beach, plunged into the azure waters, with Edgington as base man we repeatedly tried balancing on each other. We got as far as 3, then collapsed with great artificial screams and dramatic plunges into the briny. One of us would sub-merge and sing a song and from the rising bubbles you had to guess what tune it was. Life was golden, and we were the assayers. Evening; we made camp by a sandy verge. We ate and talked. At 9.30 we bedded down. ‘Good nights’ were exchanged. At midnight we were still talking.
“This is marvellous, isn’t it?” says Edgington, “I don’t like going to sleep ‘cause I’ll miss it.”
DOUG:
Holidays in Africa, cor.
EDGE:
You gone quiet Al!
AL:
I was thinking of Lily.
ME:
You dirty little devil, sleep with your hands on top of the blankets.
AL:
You don’t know what true love is Milligan, there’s too many birds in your life.
ME:
I spread my investments! Keep as many on the boil as you can, I’ve got 7 going for me back in England, see there’s —
EDGE:
Look out! He’s going to have a roll call!
ME:
There’s Beryl — Marie — Kay — Ivy — Madge — Betty — Dot — Doris.
DOUG:
Companyyy! stand at easeeee!
AL:
Don’t they ever find out about each other?
ME:
I keep the door locked.
EDGE:
You’re evil Milligan, with all that shaggin’ it’s going to drop off one day.
DOUG:
Believe me, it won’t half make a noise when it hits the ground.
We awoke at first light, and played “Who’s-going-to-make-the-tea?” By ten past 9 no-one had given in, finally Edge arises, bent double bladder bursting.
“I’ll make it.”
“He’ll only just make it,” I thought.
We heard him tinkering about outside, he broke into a little tune.
Don’t blame me,
For falling in love with you.
I’m under your spell
But how can I help it don’t blame — BUGGER!
“How’s he going to rhyme that,