13th August

Corporal you’ll never get your promotion if you carry on like this! With blunders like Friday night in the NAAFI bar you really should have started higher up the chain of command,
Reminds me of old Carstairs you know, he couldn’t have organised a tea party in Boston! Every morning he used to take one of the little jeep things the Yanks had left behind and drive down to the village for his morning paper, if the weather was fine he would walk back and next morning would take another jeep. He couldn’t understand where they were all going as slowly one by one they were all disappearing, kept blaming the tinkers camped behind the squadron HQ so he had them moved on, but still the pool was getting fewer in number. Then he started blaming the home guard, called them a bunch of amateurs and when they denied it he tried to have the platoon disbanded. Would have done too if it weren’t for the Colonel’s daughter, but that’s another story. Shan’t divulge here old boy in case the wife sees this! Anyway, as the car park at the paper shop got ever fuller he assumed that the bloody yanks were there visiting the newsagent’s widow. Feeling a bit randy one morning he tried to take advantage of the poor woman believing that if he tipped her a few shillings she may have been a little morecompliant, given his rank and all. What the blighter didn’t realise was that the dear lady was also the daughter of the General at HQ. The very next day he was moved to a desk job in Whitehall somewhere. Left in charge of naval operations in Scapa Flow towards the end of the war I believe. Caused a right old ballyhoo there, the Gerry fleet were coming over to surrender, and, well, the old spin doctors had a right old headache trying to come up with a plausible story to release to the press about that one!
Now, Carruthers arse! What a story that one has turned out to be, in a manner of speaking! Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, eh? After the incident with the very large small boy at the lido he was put under surveillance by the military police. What a revelation that turned out to be! No one was quite able to explain why half the junior class had the same strange auburn hair and that same facial tic. It seems the bounder was single handedly responsible for the midwife’s breakdown due to over work. The General suggested that if he perhaps had only been using a single hand he might not have been in the trouble he now found himself.
Anyway corporal, incoming, need to put the blackout curtains across the window.
Tally ho!