![]() ![]() ![]() “No one’s kissed me,” complained Gunner Holt, his face like a dog’s bum with a hat on. We motored slowly through the crowded streets, being kissed several times by pretty girls and once, by a pretty boy. In perfect broken English they replied, “Ve are vaiting to be took prisoners old poy.” At a café, two German officers drink coffee. ![]() In the Tunis streets the milling throng are thronging the mills. Something that went ‘Splush!’ was dropped in his mess tin. “What’s for the victory feast?” says a cheery voice. In the twilight our ground sheets glistened with rain. Looming behind us is Longstop Hill, a blood drenched salient taken at Bayonet point by the Argylls. We gathered round the Cook House in a gulley adjacent to the now silent guns. “You must have good hearing, that’s 20 miles away.” “I bet the victory cost Ladbrokes a fortune, we was 100-1.” Gunner Lee parts his hair, the comb clogged with a six months paté of Brylcream and dust. “We won,” said White, as though it had been a game of football. Had we ordinary layabouts beaten the formidable German Army?ĭear Führer, beaten ve haff been by zer Ordinary Layabouts, signed Formidable German Army. ![]() How Spike Milligan helped Monty capture North Africa during world war two.Īt least that's his side of this dead-pan humorous storyĬould this be the beginning of the end? Or the end of the beginning? ![]()
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