Morning Corporal, there’s been a right old bally-hoo here since last report old boy. Barely know where to begin. Do I start with the explosions, the insurgents, or Miss Perivale’s sexual fantasies or…?
Well at least it solved the riddle of Carruthers live shells. Let me explain old boy. After the last report when Carruthers had a bit of a funny turn involving the vicars wife and a coffin the General instigated a bit of an investigation into the goings on with Carruthers et al. MP’s running all over the place; when one of them was in the chapel of rest looking for he knew not what, he stood back to get a breather from his labours and lent against the row of supposedly empty coffins stood end up in the corner. Well he lent a little too hard and the whole bloody lot came tumbling down knocking the lids off many of them and gave himself the fright of his life! There in two of them was a large quantity of all kinds of munitions and in a third was the recumbent corpse of the very late sergeant Green from no. 2 platoon, whose complexion was now starting to live up to his name. Nothing strange in finding a body in a coffin in a chapel of rest you may be saying, except that he has been dead and buried for a month; at least that’s what everyone thought including his wife who has been tending his grave since the funeral! As for the munitions, well that did strike the MP as a little strange, he’s not the brightest button on parade you understand. Of course the two big questions needing to be answered were, if he was now looking at Sergeant Green, resplendent in full uniform, then who was in the coffin at the bottom of the grave where Sergeant Green had been rumoured to be laying at rest and how on earth did two coffins become so heavily laden with so much ammunition?
The General ordered an exhumation of the grave and at the bewitching hour two luckless privates were despatched to the graveyard with a tent and two shovels, the General declined to take part himself citing a long established appointment at his gentlemen’s club and nothing at all to do with the rumour flying around the barracks that he was scared of whatever may have been lying at the bottom of that grave. Well our two intrepid privates, after an age taken erecting the tent over the grave, started to dig. The soil being still loose from the burial, it didn’t take long to expose the coffin in question and feeling well deserving of a quick break they climbed out of the hole and lent against the grave stone for a cigarette. After trying their best to scare each other with ghostly stories they were about to resume their labours when one of them lent a bit too hard on the stone and dislodged it. The stone tumbled into the grave and smashed the top of the coffin revealing yet more ammunition however the vibration of the stone falling was having a very profound effect not only on the bowels of the two hapless privates, but on the trigger mechanism of one of the shells inside the coffin. What followed will be the talk of the village pub when the lamplights start to flicker for a good time to come I can tell you! It would appear that someone had been pilfering munitions for some time and burying it in coffins in the graveyard. Time will tell who and why, I’m sure! The first shell exploded with a mighty ‘Wump’ and that triggered other shells buried in surrounding graves and they triggered others. It was like some war film with explosions going off all around, body parts from the few coffins that actually did contain what was intended were flying all around and our two intrepid privates trying to dodge the flack as they made their bid for safety trying desperately not to put too much strain on their anal sphincter for fear of leakage! When daylight dawned Carruthers has two ‘flatmates’ in his tank all gibbering about the shadows and the graveyard looks a bit like the Somme after the battle with shell craters and bodies laying all around.
Miss Perivale lives just the other side of the grave yard from the church and is known locally as a sexually predatory spinster of some fifty years with more facial hair than a Sikh. Still rumoured to be untouched, if she takes her virginity to the grave with her it will not be for the want of trying! On the night in question she had left her washing on the line and the late Reverend Bloomfeldt having been disturbed from his eternal slumber a little earlier than I guess he had anticipated found that his knee and arm joints were not as connected as they were when last seen in the light of day and with the aid of the force from the explosion of a 4inch shell found his right hand flying through the air only to become lodged in the waistband of Miss Perivale’s not so small, smalls. Those of an unkind yet truthful disposition have remarked that he is the first man to have his hand in her knickers and others who can remember him have also remarked that she is the first woman to have allowed him that pleasure.
Anyhow Corporal, need to go! Have to organise a repatriation party to try and match arms and legs with their owners and then with the grave to which they belong.
Got any duct tape Corporal, may come in handy!
Over and out!
Sunday, 18 December 2011
29th October
Good afternoon Corporal!
Been keeping my head down a bit after the last report old boy, Ringbotham has been on the warpath good and proper. The good thing is he has been so hell bent on finding people to make this ruddy concert party work that he seems to have forgotten what caused the little fiasco in the first place and has left me well alone. Carstairs has finally got what he wants and can walk around quite openly in a frock telling any who question his appearance that he is dealing with concert party business. Although I’ll be damned if I can remember the last time I have seen him in the correct uniform, but it’s a braver man than I, who will say anything around here I can tell you.
Speaking of brave men, the Vicar and Mrs. Peabody; Mr. Peabody has gone back to his desk at Whitehall and not been seen since that little incident when he was chasing the Vicar round the garden and the Vicar now seems to spend his time flitting between the vicarage and Peabody Towers. No-one realised he has a wife at home until she became suspicious about the number of parishioners who were dying and their loved ones who needed his consoling at all times of the day and night and yet there were no funerals at the church! She decided that she would follow him one night and that nearly proved her undoing. Carruthers has been coerced away from that ruddy tank of his by putting him in civvies and giving him the job as the camp undertaker and the night the vicar’s wife followed him was probably about the only genuine call-out the vicar had been on for months. The Generals mother-in-law had passed peacefully in her sleep and the Vicar was consoling the Generals wife and the Vicar’s wife was bent down at the front door peeping through the keyhole when Carruthers arrives with a coffin balanced precariously on his shoulder carrying it up the garden path. When he arrived at the door he didn’t see the good lady on her knees and hit her on the back of the head with his coffin. She lurched forward and hit the front of her head on the door which had the two fold effect of knocking her out and opening the door as she lurched through and laid herself out on the hallway carpet. Carruthers meanwhile, had placed the coffin on the floor and realised that there was a body on the hallway carpet, assumed that was to be his cargo for the evening and loaded the recumbent Vicar’s wife into the coffin and then into the back of his van. The Vicar meanwhile is becoming a little flustered at Carruthers apparent lateness to remove the Generals mother in laws body because the Generals wife is becoming a little too welcoming of the Vicars consoling attentions. He couldn’t be too sure but at one point when she laid her head on his shoulder he was sure he could feel her tongue in his ear.
Carruthers meanwhile, had taken his collecting coffin back to the chapel of rest and was busy preparing the not so late Vicar’s wife for her funeral robes. When he had got her half undressed she woke up and sat bolt upright in the coffin. Carruthers assuming that she was some kind of zombie coming to get him, passed out on the spot and the Vicars wife, assuming that she was being raped by some devil worshipper, stood up in the coffin which was not designed for bodies standing up in it, and toppled the whole lot to the ground knocking herself out for the second time that evening! She finished up lying on top of Carruthers and the open coffin on the floor beside them both; when Carruthers came round, all his senses where telling him that he had a flesh eating Zombie lying on top of him about to take a big bite out of his neck. He stood up and ran out
of the chapel of rest screaming and ran straight back to his ruddy tank again and was last seen gibbering about Dracula and vampires. In his efforts to escape he had deposited the Vicar’s wife back in the coffin and the lid had fallen shut on top of her.
Meanwhile the Vicar, in search of reason to escape the suspiciously prying tongue of the Generals wife had gone back to the chapel to find Carruthers. When he got there, unable to find the poor fellow, he loaded the collecting coffin into the van and took it all off back to the Generals. He placed the coffin on to the trolley and wheeled it into the Generals house. When the Vicar lifted the lid to place the Generals mother in law in, his own wife had woken again and sat up straight in the coffin. The Vicar passed out with fright, as did the Generals wife and the Vicars wife, convincing herself that as the Vicar was lying under the prone Generals wife she had caught him out good and proper and promptly had an attack of the vapors and passed out again falling back into the coffin with the lid closing back on top of her. When the General returned he found one coffin, full; one mother in law, dead; and the Vicar and his own wife lying on top of each other, out cold.
It caused a right old rumpus I can tell you.
Over and out Corporal.
Been keeping my head down a bit after the last report old boy, Ringbotham has been on the warpath good and proper. The good thing is he has been so hell bent on finding people to make this ruddy concert party work that he seems to have forgotten what caused the little fiasco in the first place and has left me well alone. Carstairs has finally got what he wants and can walk around quite openly in a frock telling any who question his appearance that he is dealing with concert party business. Although I’ll be damned if I can remember the last time I have seen him in the correct uniform, but it’s a braver man than I, who will say anything around here I can tell you.
Speaking of brave men, the Vicar and Mrs. Peabody; Mr. Peabody has gone back to his desk at Whitehall and not been seen since that little incident when he was chasing the Vicar round the garden and the Vicar now seems to spend his time flitting between the vicarage and Peabody Towers. No-one realised he has a wife at home until she became suspicious about the number of parishioners who were dying and their loved ones who needed his consoling at all times of the day and night and yet there were no funerals at the church! She decided that she would follow him one night and that nearly proved her undoing. Carruthers has been coerced away from that ruddy tank of his by putting him in civvies and giving him the job as the camp undertaker and the night the vicar’s wife followed him was probably about the only genuine call-out the vicar had been on for months. The Generals mother-in-law had passed peacefully in her sleep and the Vicar was consoling the Generals wife and the Vicar’s wife was bent down at the front door peeping through the keyhole when Carruthers arrives with a coffin balanced precariously on his shoulder carrying it up the garden path. When he arrived at the door he didn’t see the good lady on her knees and hit her on the back of the head with his coffin. She lurched forward and hit the front of her head on the door which had the two fold effect of knocking her out and opening the door as she lurched through and laid herself out on the hallway carpet. Carruthers meanwhile, had placed the coffin on the floor and realised that there was a body on the hallway carpet, assumed that was to be his cargo for the evening and loaded the recumbent Vicar’s wife into the coffin and then into the back of his van. The Vicar meanwhile is becoming a little flustered at Carruthers apparent lateness to remove the Generals mother in laws body because the Generals wife is becoming a little too welcoming of the Vicars consoling attentions. He couldn’t be too sure but at one point when she laid her head on his shoulder he was sure he could feel her tongue in his ear.
Carruthers meanwhile, had taken his collecting coffin back to the chapel of rest and was busy preparing the not so late Vicar’s wife for her funeral robes. When he had got her half undressed she woke up and sat bolt upright in the coffin. Carruthers assuming that she was some kind of zombie coming to get him, passed out on the spot and the Vicars wife, assuming that she was being raped by some devil worshipper, stood up in the coffin which was not designed for bodies standing up in it, and toppled the whole lot to the ground knocking herself out for the second time that evening! She finished up lying on top of Carruthers and the open coffin on the floor beside them both; when Carruthers came round, all his senses where telling him that he had a flesh eating Zombie lying on top of him about to take a big bite out of his neck. He stood up and ran out
of the chapel of rest screaming and ran straight back to his ruddy tank again and was last seen gibbering about Dracula and vampires. In his efforts to escape he had deposited the Vicar’s wife back in the coffin and the lid had fallen shut on top of her.
Meanwhile the Vicar, in search of reason to escape the suspiciously prying tongue of the Generals wife had gone back to the chapel to find Carruthers. When he got there, unable to find the poor fellow, he loaded the collecting coffin into the van and took it all off back to the Generals. He placed the coffin on to the trolley and wheeled it into the Generals house. When the Vicar lifted the lid to place the Generals mother in law in, his own wife had woken again and sat up straight in the coffin. The Vicar passed out with fright, as did the Generals wife and the Vicars wife, convincing herself that as the Vicar was lying under the prone Generals wife she had caught him out good and proper and promptly had an attack of the vapors and passed out again falling back into the coffin with the lid closing back on top of her. When the General returned he found one coffin, full; one mother in law, dead; and the Vicar and his own wife lying on top of each other, out cold.
It caused a right old rumpus I can tell you.
Over and out Corporal.
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
22nd October
Morning Corporal,
Bit of a time lag since last entry old boy, had to keep the head down, you know how it is.
Got a bit squiffy myself the other night, one too many brandies in the officer’s mess. When I say one too I probably mean one two, as in twelve to be precise! Got talking to the general and his batman and let it slip about old Carstairs and Major Ringbotham, the general was incensed at the prospect of two gays living in camp! Kept ranting on about sexual proclivities and debauchery. Particularly when he realised that Carstairs was the one he had moved after trying to take advantage of his widowed daughter. You know how it is when you’ve had the odd one over the eight, the mind is saying shut up and the mouth is in full swing.
The following morning, Carstairs and Ringbotham were marched up to the Generals office by two sniggering MP’s. Somehow they managed to convince the General that the reason for them spending so much time together and for Carstairs apparent delectation for female clothes was that they were working on putting together an entertainment troupe for the chaps. The General fell for it hook line and sinker and told them of my own little indiscretion the previous night which left Ringbotham in a right foul bate and he’s been on the warpath looking for me ever since. The real problem for them is that now they have got to come up with the goods and produce something that resembles an entertainment party. They tried to get Carruthers away from that tank to join them, we were all hoping they would manage it as the far side of camp has become a bit of a war zone now that Carruthers tank has an engine. After the last time he took it for a little foray the three new Landrovers the vehicle pool had just taken delivery of were all left with a tank track mark right up the middle and the wheels leaning out at a rather jaunty angle. They nearly managed to get Carruthers away from the thing and the MPs were waiting to go in and remove the batteries and starter when Carruthers heard they were planning on getting him to dress as a woman. He must have had some recollection of that terrible incident down at the NAAFI which led to his rather precarious mental stability; as soon as he saw the dress he ran back into the tank shouting random profanities at anyone and everyone and tried to fire another of those blank shells. Well the barrel was still blocked from the wadding of the previous one, and there then followed one hell of a bang and the whole tank disappeared as smoke exuded from every part of it. When the smoke cleared, the barrel of the tank was peeled back like a banana on all sides, all the doors and traps were blown off their hinges and a smoke blackened Carruthers was sitting on what was left of the turret, sucking his thumb and calling for ‘mummy’.
Need to go old boy, I can hear Ringbotham and Carstairs approaching and I don’t think they are feeling any better disposed towards me yet so I need to make myself scarce. I say, you don’t fancy dressing as a woman and singing Lilly Marlene on a stage do you? Be awfully helpful if you did, I think it might take the sting out of the situation.
Bit of a rum do all round I say!
Over and out.
Bit of a time lag since last entry old boy, had to keep the head down, you know how it is.
Got a bit squiffy myself the other night, one too many brandies in the officer’s mess. When I say one too I probably mean one two, as in twelve to be precise! Got talking to the general and his batman and let it slip about old Carstairs and Major Ringbotham, the general was incensed at the prospect of two gays living in camp! Kept ranting on about sexual proclivities and debauchery. Particularly when he realised that Carstairs was the one he had moved after trying to take advantage of his widowed daughter. You know how it is when you’ve had the odd one over the eight, the mind is saying shut up and the mouth is in full swing.
The following morning, Carstairs and Ringbotham were marched up to the Generals office by two sniggering MP’s. Somehow they managed to convince the General that the reason for them spending so much time together and for Carstairs apparent delectation for female clothes was that they were working on putting together an entertainment troupe for the chaps. The General fell for it hook line and sinker and told them of my own little indiscretion the previous night which left Ringbotham in a right foul bate and he’s been on the warpath looking for me ever since. The real problem for them is that now they have got to come up with the goods and produce something that resembles an entertainment party. They tried to get Carruthers away from that tank to join them, we were all hoping they would manage it as the far side of camp has become a bit of a war zone now that Carruthers tank has an engine. After the last time he took it for a little foray the three new Landrovers the vehicle pool had just taken delivery of were all left with a tank track mark right up the middle and the wheels leaning out at a rather jaunty angle. They nearly managed to get Carruthers away from the thing and the MPs were waiting to go in and remove the batteries and starter when Carruthers heard they were planning on getting him to dress as a woman. He must have had some recollection of that terrible incident down at the NAAFI which led to his rather precarious mental stability; as soon as he saw the dress he ran back into the tank shouting random profanities at anyone and everyone and tried to fire another of those blank shells. Well the barrel was still blocked from the wadding of the previous one, and there then followed one hell of a bang and the whole tank disappeared as smoke exuded from every part of it. When the smoke cleared, the barrel of the tank was peeled back like a banana on all sides, all the doors and traps were blown off their hinges and a smoke blackened Carruthers was sitting on what was left of the turret, sucking his thumb and calling for ‘mummy’.
Need to go old boy, I can hear Ringbotham and Carstairs approaching and I don’t think they are feeling any better disposed towards me yet so I need to make myself scarce. I say, you don’t fancy dressing as a woman and singing Lilly Marlene on a stage do you? Be awfully helpful if you did, I think it might take the sting out of the situation.
Bit of a rum do all round I say!
Over and out.
15th October
Morning Corporal,
Dashed poor show last weekend, what! Should have got Carruthers and his little harem down there to bolster numbers. The tailor down at the QM stores last week thought he had a poltergeist in his work room, every time his back was turned his tailors’ dummies kept moving around. Poor fellow was becoming quite agitated, particularly when one of them threw itself at him late one evening. The medics were called to try and quieten the poor fellow down, when they lifted the dummy off him he sat up and realised that the other four dummies were now missing, complete with the uniforms that were on them that he had been working on. Three WRAC privates and one sergeant. The General was convinced that gerry was stealing them as disguises for some covert infiltration of the ranks, and it took a rather long phone call from the General to convince him that the Germans haven’t been a serious threat for some time. After getting sergeant Foot in from the military police to ‘survey the crime scene’, (I really think that lot watch too much television you know), at great length they announced the results of their findings in a scene straight out of that Hitchcock film. They had established that Carruthers had been hiding in one of the dummies and had stolen the one he was in and three others because he liked the uniforms! Anyway, Sergeant Foot, or Foot of the Yard as he likes to be referred to, managed to track the culprit back to the old
tanks, it seems Carruthers has got fed up with being a tree and is back in one of the tanks only this one has taken on an altogether more sinister prospect, this one has both engine and tracks! He’s got all the dummies lined up ‘on parade’ and was ‘inspecting’ them. Well no one was feeling brave enough to go down there and get them back if Carruthers is armed and now mobile as well! Foot of the Yard went nervously towards the tank and asked in the most authoritative voice he could muster, which to be honest sounded little better than a five year old trembling in front of a teacher on his first day at school, if he could please have his dummies back. Carruthers let fly with one of those blanks he has got hold of, (no one is sure how many he has left), I then realised exactly why that tank was left up there. The barrel is blocked! One hell of a lot of smoke came from everywhere but no wadding came out of the barrel! One just has to hope that they can talk Carruthers down from there before he feels the need to fire another one! Foot of the Yard just stood there and wet himself when the shell was fired and was last seen running for his car. Carruthers is now smitten with his entire little harem and has carried them with him wherever he goes. Bit of a rum do all round I say, what?
Dashed poor show last weekend, what! Should have got Carruthers and his little harem down there to bolster numbers. The tailor down at the QM stores last week thought he had a poltergeist in his work room, every time his back was turned his tailors’ dummies kept moving around. Poor fellow was becoming quite agitated, particularly when one of them threw itself at him late one evening. The medics were called to try and quieten the poor fellow down, when they lifted the dummy off him he sat up and realised that the other four dummies were now missing, complete with the uniforms that were on them that he had been working on. Three WRAC privates and one sergeant. The General was convinced that gerry was stealing them as disguises for some covert infiltration of the ranks, and it took a rather long phone call from the General to convince him that the Germans haven’t been a serious threat for some time. After getting sergeant Foot in from the military police to ‘survey the crime scene’, (I really think that lot watch too much television you know), at great length they announced the results of their findings in a scene straight out of that Hitchcock film. They had established that Carruthers had been hiding in one of the dummies and had stolen the one he was in and three others because he liked the uniforms! Anyway, Sergeant Foot, or Foot of the Yard as he likes to be referred to, managed to track the culprit back to the old
tanks, it seems Carruthers has got fed up with being a tree and is back in one of the tanks only this one has taken on an altogether more sinister prospect, this one has both engine and tracks! He’s got all the dummies lined up ‘on parade’ and was ‘inspecting’ them. Well no one was feeling brave enough to go down there and get them back if Carruthers is armed and now mobile as well! Foot of the Yard went nervously towards the tank and asked in the most authoritative voice he could muster, which to be honest sounded little better than a five year old trembling in front of a teacher on his first day at school, if he could please have his dummies back. Carruthers let fly with one of those blanks he has got hold of, (no one is sure how many he has left), I then realised exactly why that tank was left up there. The barrel is blocked! One hell of a lot of smoke came from everywhere but no wadding came out of the barrel! One just has to hope that they can talk Carruthers down from there before he feels the need to fire another one! Foot of the Yard just stood there and wet himself when the shell was fired and was last seen running for his car. Carruthers is now smitten with his entire little harem and has carried them with him wherever he goes. Bit of a rum do all round I say, what?
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