Page 5 Advertisement 2

Camp News, Volume 1, Issue 18, 12 April 1940, Page 5

HAND OUT A SMILE THE LAST SHOT The machine-gunner had just come out of action somewhere in France. For hours he had been burning up ammunition and he was tired-out. Eagerly he stepped forward as the mail was distributed. One post-card was handed to him. Forwarded from the post office in his home town, it read: “Dear sir, this is to notify you that your gun license has expired.” .*. * * * For weeks little Bill had waited patiently for a letter from home. Day after day he’d wistfully watched the other evacuees as they opened their mail. At last a letter arrived for him. He opened it and took out a grimy postal order for sixpence. “Blimey, mates,” he declared joy--1 fully. “My old man’s sent me a cheque.” * * * * “On the right . . . form platoon,” roared the sergeant. The raw recruits carried out some kind of manoeuvre which left the serI geant speechless. He looked at them for a moment — two moments. Then his voice returned. ... No , words- can describe the tones of his voice. But he said: “All right. Now take your partners for the Lancers.” *** ■ * The soldiers were billeted in an ancient railway carriage, converted into a bungalow. Going on his rounds the orderly officer found Corporal Jones sitting outside his billet. Rain lashed down and Jones, soaked to the skin, unhappily puffed at his pipe. “Are you crazy?” snapped the officer. “Why aren’t you indoors?”