Rommel_ Gunner Who__ A Confrontation in - Spike Milligan [2]
75 Battery Signallers attacking the Cook-house for second helpings at X Camp, Cap Matifou
Part Two orders
Disciplinary action will be taken against other ranks responsible for the stamping and groaning on route marches.
I noted Frangipani everywhere, but not yet in flower, magenta coloured Bougainvilleas were in full bloom. Towards evening the air filled with the cloying perfume of Jasmine, Belasarius was said to have placed one in his helmet at Tricaramaron saying, “ If I die, I will at least smell sweet…” Generals! Going into battle? Then use Perfume of Jasmine! Hear what one General says: General Montgomery: I use Jasmine—I couldn’t have won El Alamein without it. Get some today.
Marches took us through timeless Arab villages, Rouiba, Ain-Taya, Fondouk, when we halted I’d try the Arab coffee; piping hot, sweet, delicious. I watched Gunner White sip the coffee then top it up with water! I explained the water was for clearing the palate. “I thought it was for coolin’ it down,” said the descendant of the Crusaders.
Local Arab. Mr Fondouk—Jan 20 ‘43
Lieutenant Joe Mostyn was Jewish, five foot six, on bad days five foot two, and, no matter how frequently he shaved, had a permanent blue chin; “try shaving from the inside’ I suggested. His forte was scrounging grub. One route march he bought a hundred eggs for twelve francs. Having no way of transporting them, he made us carry one in each hand till we reached Camp. Puzzled wayfarers watched as British soldiers marched by, clutching eggs accompanied by mass clucking. Water was rationed but we were on the sea. At day’s end we plunged into the blue Med. I watched gunners, unfamiliar with salt water, try to get their soap to lather. “Something wrong wiv it,” says Liddel. “Nuffink can go wrong wiv soap,” replies Forrest, who plunges into a furious effort to prove his point. “You’re right,” he finally concedes. “This soap is off.” NAAFI Managers tried to understand how some fifteen gunners all had soap that wouldn’t lather. No one mentioned salt water, dutifully they exchanged the soaps. Next morning the soap lathered beautifully. “This is better,” said Forrest. That evening, at swim parade, I watched Forrest and Liddel arguing about what had gone wrong with the soap since morning. We all bathed starkers, the lads gave wonderful displays of Military Tool-waving at passing ladies with cries of Vive le Sport’ or ‘Get in Knob its yer birthday.”
It was all good stuff and bore out Queen Victoria’s belief that ‘Salt Water has beneficial effects on the human body’. There were dreadful gunners who floated on their backs playing submarines. At the approaching of a maritime phallus, Gunner Devine shouted “Achtung! Firen Torpedo!” and threw a pebble, and the hit ‘periscope’ would sink with a howl of pain. Another nasty trick was invented by Gunner Timms: Tie rock to piece of string, make noose at other end, next, dive under unsuspecting happily swimming gunner, slip noose over end of his Willie, let go rock; retire to safe distance. Mind you some gunners liked it. You can get used to anything I suppose.
We had received no mail. “They’ve forgotten us! Out of sight out of mind!” says Gunner Woods scratching himself in bed.
“You’re always moaning,” says ‘Hooter’ Price. “I got a wife and two kids, and I bet they haven’t forgotten me.”
“With that bleedin’ great nose, I don’t suppose they can.”
“Look, a large nose is a sign of intelligence. The Duke of Wellington had one.”
“Yer, ‘e ‘ad one, but you look like you got two, and,” I added, “how come you’re only a bleedin’ driver eh?”
“I chose to stay with the men,” said Price with great indignation. In the dark, a boot bounced off his nut.
One morning, on Part Two orders, 0800 hours:
Gunner Milligan, S., Golding, Hart, E., Wenham, B., report to Sergeant Andrews for ‘Camouflage’ course.
This consisted of climbing over walls, ditches, fences, fag packets, in fact, anything. The course showed