The Inside Story

Northern Advocate, 18 March 1939, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Inside Story

by the “PRIVAiE D. ”

JN view of the alarming reports being issued every day -the Private D has begun the immediate construction of an air raid shelter in his back yard. It is quite the fashionable thing in these days to have such shelters littering the back garden, and they should be quite ornamental if creepers are trained to grow over them and; a few marrows and pumpkins set up house in the vicinity. At any rate, an air raid shelter would probably look more attractive than some outbuildings which flaunt themselves in the hindermost parts of many houses.

r J'HE Private D’s shelter will be of

the most modern type. Comfort will be the keynote and wall-to-wall carpets will be laid, with a cocktail bar in one corner, well stocked with various cordials to counteract the illeffects of the gas. In fact, comfort will be so well provided for that the Private D will not mind how many air raids occur as he will be able at long last to recline in his bed! and do no work. One can hardly expect a man to tramp dov/n Bank Street while half a dozen aeroplanes are dropping their eggs on the Trough at the Regent Corner or attempting to reduce to smoking ruins the borough rubbish tip.

JT the enemy ever do attack Whanga-

i' rei—and it 'is to be hoped it is attacked, for if the grim invader ignored the town it would be a deadly insult, going to prove that what the Chamber of Corhmerce has been saying about the town’s importance is all a pack of exaggeration—the Private D would probably be one of the first to be sought out for destruction. The Private D is at the moment non persona grata in the Chancellories of Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin, and in South Bohemia, the Police Club, the Crooks’ Club and the Private Bar of the Yak Hotel, Tibet. As to his being barred from the latter hostelry, that was an unfortunate affair which happened away back in ’O7 when the Private D rolled in and cracked a joke about the “Grand Llama” being a kind of animal. People hadn’t such a keen sense of humour in those days, but the Private D has not been back to the dear old Yak Hotel to find out if the manager has been transferred.

fpHOSE were the days! Ah me, etc.,

THOUGHTS ON BOMBS

when the Private D had the entree to every court in Europe—please do not make the usual mistake of reading “police court” for court —and he was known to every police sergeant who ever wore flat boots, purely because of his association with royalty.

This is becoming complicated. The Private D explains that the police sergeants had no connections with royalty, but it was the Private D who was associated with me wearers of the nine carat crowns, who in those days could always find a prince or princess to marry, though they somehow preferred commoners in a good many cases. There should be no misunderstanding in reading the above paragraph. It is important, and the correct solution will be given in the Private D’s column of Saturday, February 25, 1989. Watch out for this interesting disclosure. !

fJHiE following should be read in parentheses: That got past the edtior at any rate, and filled up two or three inches. It’s wonderful how easy it is to fill a column if you try.)

x° return to A.R.P. matters the Pri-

vate D hopes that the enemy, when they arrive 4 will drop a bomb on his front lawn. It would save the trouble of digging it up. Unless war is declared the lawn will never be dug. That is the Private D’s final word (to his wife) on the subject. In fact, if 1 the enemy did not drop a bomb on the Private D’s front lawn then he would go to the Court of International Relations and demand an explanation. The Private D’s solicitors, Messrs Bunkum, Bunkum, Bunkum, and (oddly enough) Ramsbotham are experienced in dealing with crooked claims —ahem ,that is to say, matters of great legal significance, and they could undoubtedly prove to the satisfaction of the legal sharks at The Hague that the Private D was a person of sufficient importance to warrant having bombs dropped on him. However, apart from all that, the Private D. does extend a very cordial invitation_Jo his friends (if..any), and readers to drop in and see him at his new residence, “Bomb Lodge,” any evening after midnight, provided refreshments are brought and bottle openers are not surreptitiously removed.

high explosives for such gatherings in the dug out may best be done in bottle containers, although, after six p.m. even converted jam tins are less apt to provoke suspicion among members of the force. Scotch is to be preferred to T.N.T., but the tender susceptibilities of the I.R.A. may be wounded by such a national reflection. If the truth be known the Private D confesses a partiality for the flavour of burnt peat, provided always it does not arise from the burning of a boardinghouse at which he is an unwelcome guest.