Rommel_ Gunner Who__ A Confrontation in - Spike Milligan [19]
“Stop that fokin’ noise,” hissed an angry Irish voice, “you’ll get us all fokin’ mortared.”
We took the spindle from the drum and unwound by hand. More flares, suddenly a rapid burst of automatic fire. It was a Spandau, a return burst, the unmistakable chug, chug, chug of a Bren gun. A flare silhouetted us beautifully for the whole Afrika Korps to see. “Freeze,” hissed Fuller. I had one leg raised when he said it. Somewhere a German O.P. officer was saying “Himmel! zey are using one-legged soldiers.” The flares fade. Fuller says “I’m lost.”
“I thought you’d never say it,” I said. We groped our way back to the party who were inside the Bren practising fear and smoking. Dawson attached a phone to the line.
“Hello, Gun Position here.”
“This is Sergeant Dawson. Tell Major Chater Jack we can’t find the bloody O.P., will it be all right tomorrow?” We waited. “Yes’ Chater said ‘OK tomorrow, but before first light.”
“Let’s bugger off,” said Dawson.
We piled into the carrier. I looked up. What a sky! The heavens encrusted with stars, the milky way hung like a luminous veil across the firmament.
“Halt.” Two sentries loomed in the dark. “Friend or Foe?”
“Friends,” we all screamed from the grovelling position. “What’s the password?”
Dawson tried explaining in a thick Jordy accent, “Why mon, we doant noe. Weaire Gooners from 56 Artilury, weaire layin a lyine.” The accent was sufficient for us to pass. About one o’clock we arrived at the G.P. Our guns were firing. What a bloody noise. What in heaven’s name did they think they were doing—it was past midnight! What would the neighbours say? Soldiers needed rest. They have to get up every morning looking lovely for their Regiments.
Map of route to O.P.
GENERAL MONTGOMERY:
Have you seen Gunner Milligan this morning?
GENERAL ALEXANDER:
No, why?
GENERAL MONTGOMERY:
He looks so tired and washed out. The Germans shouldn’t really see him like that.
GENERAL ALEXANDER:
By Jove yes, I’ll ask him to see the M.O.
The scene:
Later at the M.O.:
GNR MILLIGAN:
I don’t know, every morning I wake up listless and jaded and the men are talking.
M.O.:
Milligan, you’re suffering from night-starvation. I want you to wake up five times a night and drink three gallons of Porridge.
The scene:
Next morning:
GENERAL MONTGOMERY:
Seen Milligan this morning?
GENERAL ALEXANDER:
Yes, he’s back to his old self, thanks to
TOGETHER:
Porridge!
I got to bed. Yawning, I pulled the blankets over me, doused the lamp and slid into dream-lit hours of dark freedom. To sleep under the ear shattering blasts of our guns seemed impossible, yet as they thundered in the night towards Medjez el Bab, we slept like babes. It seemed I had just put my lovely head to pillow when the boot of the sentry delicately kicked me conscious.
“Milligan.”
“Mmmm? Arggggg Schmatter Gwanpizorf.”
“You and Fuller have got to connect the O.P. line.”
“Whassermarrer? Ahhhhhhhbalztoyer alllll.”
“There’s early breakfast laid on for you.”
“I don’t like people laying on my food!”
It was 05.00 hours, it wasn’t fair! Who invented early? The late people were much happier, like the Late King George, or the Late Rasputin. I didn’t bother to wash or shave. Red-eyed I ambled to the Cook House. “How long you been dead?” said the Cook. The morning air was cool, light blue mist cast a hazy veil over the landscape. The dawn peace was shattered by the Fifth Mediums laying down a barrage. Breakfast was a surprise. The new Compo K rations had arrived, cases of tinned and dehydrated foods. We had scrambled egg, sausages and Ahhha Porridge.
“They’re just fattening you up for the kill,” said the Cook.
0600: Bombardier Fuller and I set off. We skirted our guns to avoid the muzzle blast and Porridge. The ground was covered with a very light dew that was now drying out. Every twenty yards we stapled the wire to the ground.
The 1st round in anger— 79 Battery at War
The sun came up, it was going to be a lovely day. Reaching the foot of the hill Bdr Fuller suddenly ‘remembered’ where the O.P. was,