POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXX, Issue 39, 14 August 1940, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGE

Intimation: In re problem No. 2: for 748 read 648. * * * News note: "The Women's Auxiliary Territorial Service is efficiency itself." The members know W.A.T.S. what. » * * An American journalist says that Hitler is "little more than a raucous noise." All sound and Fuhrer. # * # 'Chaser Flashlight came into the limelight (vide a Turf commentator), but he blew out in the Grand National yesterday. * # ♦ THE "DOUBLE." Clarion Call And Lady Tinkle Made bookmakers' Dark brows wrinkle. » * ♦ AN AMERICAN ON ENGLAND. England has been destroyed every ten or fifteen years—from the time of the Armada to the present day—in the prophecies of men. Every few years she has been about to be overthrown by sea; she has been about to be ploughed up by the land; she has been about to be stripped of her resources in India and in other parts of the globe. Nations have formed alliances against her; the armies and fleets of the civilised world have gone about her; her interests, political and pecuniary, have been repeatedly and violently assailed; and yet she stood, as she now stands, mistress of the seas, and the strongest Power on earth. H. W. BEECHER. # • * * INFORMATION DEPARTMENT. In reply to McLeod, who wants to know the difference between a White Paper and a Blue Book. As an orderly Government holding itself responsible to public opinion, Britain issues an enormous mass of documents, which are usually published by his Majesty's Stationery Office. Most of the material thus issued is of a routine description, and is generally bound in blue paper covers. Hence the term Blue Book. A White Paper in Britain is simply a Blue Book from which the cover of blue has been omitted, either to save expense or to save time. Usually White Papers are issued to meet some special and immediate situation. For example, the earlier account of Anglo-German negotiations appeared as a Blue Book, but the later narrative by Sir Nevile Henderson, British Ambassador to Berlin, of interviews on the eve of war wa» issued as a White Paper. # # ♦ ■ SWINGING THE LEAD. About 150 years ago some bright soldier wrote a comprehensive handbook on the subject of lead-swinging. Among the ruses suggested by the anonymous one were these: Chewing tobacco to feign illness, knocking an elbow against a wall or tent pole to induce fever, applying quicklime to legs to give them the desired lame appearance, using lacquer over brass to save the necessity of polishing it. Here are one or two other ideas: "If a comrade deserts, sell all your kit and claim he has stolen it.^ If he is not caught, nobody can dispute it. If hd does, nobody will believe him, anyway." Advice to tired sentries: "To relieve the strain bore a hole in each side of the sentry box, and when on duty pass a stout stick through them, making a natural seat on which you may sit perched like a parrot in a cage, when nobody is passing." N.B.—The author, of course, was joking, though certain ironic references have a glimmer of historical truth in them. * * * THE DAWN FLOTILLA. Where are the little ships—precious little gems? Pleasure-craft, river-craft, launches from the Thames, Dirty little fishing-craft, motor-boat» and scows, Stately little sailing-craft dipping up from Cowes. Where are the staunch ships—ships that Britons bred, Fine ships, tall ships, ships with canvas spread, Rough ships, bluff ships, ships that smelt of tar, Long ships, low ships, all have crossed the bar! I have seen the little ships beating out to sea, Butting through the Channel's trough, tossing wild and free, Heading for the shores of France, rushing through the night, Sailing out at break of day, sailing out of sight.

I have seen them marvel, and have marvelled like the rest At the miracle of waters that lay calm at God's behest, At the curtain of destruction that descended on the shore, At the blazing, smoking ruin that proclaimed the path of war. I have seen them streaming back t© England's shore, and when They came in sight each one was crowded gunwale-down with men, I have seen them sinking long before they reached the land, And others crowd around at once to lend a willing hand. I have seen all this, though we're ten thousand miles apart, I have seen all this because I know the British heart. I know the British fishermen, Great Britain's grit, and then, I know her vessels, hearts of oak, and hearts of oak her men! JAYBEE. Northland. * # * UNCLE-WORSHIP. Dear Flage,—The New Zealand schoolboy has become enthusiastically "uniform" conscious. The various distinctions, badges, etc., of the fighting forces fascinate him. So it was not at all surprising to be overtaken—at the double —the other morning, by a bright-eyed youngster and greeted with . the popular refrain: "Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant-Major." "Hullo, son! Off to school?"/ ' "Yes." But school was a mundane affair at the moment. "My uncle is a sergeant-major!" he proclaimed proudly. Then added triumphantly: "He is higher than you!" "Good! Somebody has to be higher. There is a long waiting list of majors, colonels, and armchair generals. Everybody cannot be higher up. You. must have some ordinary soldiers to do the fighting."

He considered this vital aspect of the military situation for a moment, then burst out with:. "I have another uncle who is a soldier!"

"Good! Then we shall win the war after all. Good-bye."

A cheery "Good-bye" came back in return, and we parted.

May schoolboy nephews ever feel gratified at "owning" he-men uncles. but be spared the ordeal of the good night kiss of the company sergeantmajor. Leave it to the girls! One femininely volunteered, is worth ■ dozen sergeant-major "lullaby" effort*. G.F.