5th November

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!