Backwards Through Ohio

Arawa Guerilla, Issue 8, 1 November 1942, Page 2

Backwards Through Ohio

The Swiss newspaper, “Kramma Whoppa,” furnishes us with the latest episode in the meteoric demoralisation tour of the Editor of the “Guerilla.” Last week a terrific sensation was created in Rumania. The Mayor and Corporation of Budapest were lining the railway platform ready to welcome General Antonescu and his entourage on an official visit. The train arrived and the band struck up the Rumanian national air, "I’ll be Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascal, You!” But no, official figures descended. Suddenly, amidst a terrific clatter of tiles, two forms scrambled down the waiting-room chimney, and, delicately brushing their gold braid, turned to receive the plaudits of the multitude. It was General Antonescu and his aide-de-campe, Captain Privescu. At once they were driven to the Hotel Nastipest, where a sumptuous banquet was consumed. ■At the end of the eighteenth course, the General was called upon to speak. He rose to his feet, and veering slightly, uttered the cryptic words, “Take your change in Guerillas!” Before the crowd could recover, the General and his aide-de-campe hqd decamped through the window, ' and had fled the' country in an aeroplane, taking with them a batch of secret plans, seven beautiful spies, two bottles of vodka, the Rumanian War Memorial and three dozen pieces of hotel silver. One hour later, the real General Antonescu and Captain Privescu were found bound and gagged, and suspended head downwards just inside the entrance of Budapest’s largest public convenience. Round their necks were strung copies of the latest “Guerilla”! The Iron Guard are scouring the country for the Editor of the "Guerilla” and his chief of staff, Colonel Bluphly■Gadsyre who were last seen crossing Tibet disguised as a couple of yaks.” SANITARY SIDELIGHT.

PRESENTING Captain Beveridge, the Bane of the Bacteria, the Demolisher of Dirt, the Scourge of the Streptococci. t For it is Dr. Beveridge who is responsible for the hygiene of the camp, and whose familiar form is seen daily methodically dissecting the huts. Woe betide the careless P.B.P. who sheds a segment of match-stick, or who omits to conceal that packet of Rinso. S.S. is on the job! ADOLF HITLER. This little bankrupt grew so fond Of getting dupes to take his bond, The world, despite rich Nature’s rules Ran very nearly out of fools. “German General on the Spot,” says the local newspaper. marks it. Terrific shortage of cups in Sergeants’ mess. Scores of N.C.O.’s literally dying of thirst. There is frantic competition to grab the solitary cup which graces each table, miserable degenerate specimens of cups though they be; rejects, rumour has it, from Frankton railway station. And every cup is mortgaged three deep when a bloke wants one. Isn’t Fate cupricious?