Monty, his part in my victory - Spike Milligan [8]
The result is the only picture ever taken of Oudna to prove there’s no such place. If you are wondering why I’m playing the trumpet, so am I.
“There’s a battle scheme starting at 0600 hrs tomorrow.”
We were divided into opposing sides, Ack and Beer — by mid-day thunder flashes kept exploding everywhere, referees would rush up, chalk you with a white cross and say ‘you’re dead’. I asked Lt Budden permission to throw a thunder flash under our vehicle so that we could play cards.
“Let’s have lunch first.” He pointed to a cool conglomerate of date palms.
Halt — in German
A crowd of black-faced lunatics jumped us from behind bushes.
“You’re all prisoners of Ack Army.”
Says Budden, “We are Ack Army.”
The attackers lowered their rifles, grinned sheepishly and retreated.
“I thought we were Beer Army sir,” I said.
“We don’t want everybody to know,” said Mr Budden.
A referee roars up. “You’re all casualties,” he said, and marked us with white and red chalk. “Sign here,” said the referee, “three dead and two wounded.”
Dutifully Budden signed, the Sgt saluted, mounted his bike, kicked the starter which failed, he kicked again, then several agains, the starter kept sticking, suddenly, when he wasn’t ready, it shot back. With a scream he clutched his shin, and well he might, he’d broken it. He lay on the grass, and we radioed up an ambulance.
“Which one is hurt?” said a soppy RAMC orderly.
“I think it’s the one on the ground screaming,” said Budden.
As they put him on the stretcher, I marked him with red chalk.
“You bastard,” he said.
We returned to base at the prescribed hour, where dusty and weary, the Battery took tea.
“We must never go to war again,” said Gnr Devine, “we’ve lost the knack.”
The great Edgington gave forth: “Ohhhh,” it says, “Ohhhhhh,” the sound was from his trembling tent. “I’m ill. I and my tent are very, very ill.”
He was sweating, steaming, shivering and groaning, a versatile man. He thought me strange for contracting a cold in this climate, now he’d gone one better, he’d got pneumonia. No! he’d gone two better, it was double pneumonia. We waved as they took him off to dock in a lorry, one man in an empty three tonner, the army were like that. Dutifully we rifled his tent for fags.
GENERAL WAR DIRECTIVE No. 13694
HITLER:
Hear zat? one of zer British Army and his tent is ill, let us attack now while zey are under strength!
I decided that we should climb the Roman Aqueduct, so Gunners Forrest, Devine and Milligan set off. We walked briskly across the dusty flat, the morning young, with a touch of pre-dawn coolness still in the air. “You never know what you might find at the top,” said Forrest.
The Aqueduct was built of giant stone blocks, no mortar or cement, miraculous. When I tell Forrest and Devine they get the shits, “It’ll fall over,” they said running clear. “That’s it,” I said, “it’s been standing two thousand years ‘and now it’s going to fall over.”
We walked around the Aqueduct and came to a low feature. Forrest scrambled up it. “There, we’ve climbed it. Let’s all go home.”
I was not put off, I led an assault up the ruins till we were a good fifty feet up, close behind, moaning, was Forrest. “If I wanted to be this high,” he said, “I’d have joined the ‘air force.”
OUDNA
“I can’t turn round!” said Devine.
“You’re not missing anything,” I said.
“It’s no good,” said Devine, “I’m bloody stuck, it’s all your fault.”
He was stuck. He stayed stuck for an hour. Despite all my implorings he wouldn’t budge. The sun was starting to set and so apparently was Devine.
“For Christ sake,” I pleaded. “Do something.”
“I think I already have,” he said.
Night was surging across the land. Exasperated; Forrest shouts “Helppp…someone fetch a ladder!”
“A ladder? Round here, you idiot?” I said.
“Alright, clever dick. What else can you shout? ‘Fetch a 3 piece suite’?”
An American plane flew over.
“Help, fetch a ladder,” I shouted.
Suddenly. Idea!
“Forrest, take yer trousers off,” I said.
“What?”
“Tie ‘em together as a rope.”
“I am not wearin’ underpants,” says Forrest.
“Living