Mussolini_ His Part in My Downfall - Spike Milligan [47]
Lt.-Colonel:
Leaps short buildings with a running start in favourable winds. Is almost as powerful as a speeding bullet. Walks on water in indoor swimming pools. Talks with GOD if special request is approved.
Major:
Barely clears a Nissen hut. Loses tug-of-war with a steam engine. Can fire a speeding bullet and swims well. Is occasionally addressed by GOD.
Captain:
Makes high marks when trying to leap tall buildings. Is run over by trains. Can sometimes handle a gun without inflicting self injury. Dog paddles, talks to animals.
Lieutenant:
Runs into tall buildings. Recognises trains two out of three times. Is not issued with ammunition. Can stay afloat if properly instructed in the use of a lifejacket. Talks to walls.
2nd Lieutenant:
Falls over doorsteps while trying to enter buildings. Says, “Look at Choo Choo.” Is NEVER issued with a gun or ammunition. Plays in mud puddles. Mumbles to himself.
Sgt.-Major:
Lifts tall buildings and walks under them. Kicks steam-engines off the track. Catches speeding bullets in his teeth and eats them. Freezes water with a single glance…HE IS GOD!
This occasion was at Santa Maria. The weather was bitter cold. The rain had stopped. For some reason, we had nowhere to sleep, so Edgington, Pedlar Palmer, Trew, Fuller and myself made a giant bed right out in the open. First we laid down a huge canvas Gun sheet. On that we all made our beds in a square, all feet towards the middle. That done, we laid over the top yet another giant canvas Gun sheet. I’m still desperate to remember why we did it, so I ring up Edgington in New Zealand, he recalls the occasion, but again the reason is unexplained.
ME: Harry?
H: Yes, is that you, mate?
ME: Yes, it’s me, mate.
H: Cor strewth, what’s the time there?
ME: It’s ten past eleven here in the morning.
H: It’s ten past ten at night here.
ME: Good night.
H: Good morning.
ME: Harry, I’m on Volume 4 of the war memoirs, now Rocamanfina…and Terra Corpo…do you remember the occasion of the great bed?
H: Cor yes, we did it right out in the open, we used gun canvas.
ME: Good! Can you remember why we did it?
H: Yes.
ME: Why?
H: We were all bloody balmy.
ME: I know that, but was there any other reason? Were we short of tents?
H: No, sanity.
So there we have it. In that bed we slept like babes. Alas for Edgington, in the middle of the night someone from the Command Post tells us, “The line to the OP has broken.” No one answered except the innocent Edgington. He gets up, and in his words, “I don’t know why no one else heard the call. [I know.] I got up and for some reason didn’t lace up my boots. I started to trace the line. I reached a stream that was so churned up by crossing motor traffic, the water was like porridge. I found the break, but had to cross the stream which was about three feet deep. On my return, I took my boots into the Command Post, which had the brazier burning. I was too tired, I just threw my boots in the fire and waiting for them to dry I fell asleep sitting up. Next morning I took my boots from the embers, they were snow white and as hard as iron. To soften them I had to soak them in water again.” End of Edgington bit.
When the remaining Giant Bed sleepers awoke at dawn, the gun canvas was covered white with frost, yet I remember I had slept soundly and warm. End of Milligan bit.
I had been feeling a bit groggy all day. I could feel a cold coming on, so I dosed myself with hot tea and rum.
The 16th ended like it had started, with thunderous deluges of cold rain. It numbed the mind, the body and sapped the morale. My sleeping ‘Quarters’? I had found a small embankment. In it I noticed a crevice that was about the length of a man lying down. It was recessed back about five feet, and from this I made a small, very dry, little sleeping quarters. There was only room for the bed, my small pack and an oil lamp.
By astute placing of my gas cape