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Camp News, Volume 1, Issue 31, 12 July 1940, Page 5

YULE SMILE LIKE AMATEURS! ~ It had been a very mediocre regimental boxing championship, and afterwards the men were discussing it. «. “Not much of a fight, was it, Bill?” said Private Jones. - “Gor. lumme,” said Private Smith, “if me and the missus put up a show like that on a Saturday night, why, the kids ’ud boo us.” V ,• *>!:** As the sergeant-major was being borne to his last resting-place, the coffin accidentally hit the corner of a wall. From the interior came a yell. The sergeant-major had merely had a cataleptic fit. < He did actually die a week later. As the coffin was being carried along the path there came a shout from the ranks: “Mind that wall, mates.” * * • * ' * “Don’t refuse a trifle, sir. I’m an old soldier,” whined the beggar. “Old soldier, eh? We’ll see,” said the General. “Shun,” he roared. . . . “Eyes right . . . eyes front. . . Stand at ease. . . . . “What comes next?” “PRESENT ALMS,” said the beggar. * * * * “There we were!” exclaimed Tommy, “surrounded by Germans ... trapped, with no ammunition. There was no food, nothing to drink. The rum jar had been smashed by a sniper. . . .” “Wasn’t there any water?” interrupted a listener. “Course there was,” snapped Tommy, “but that wasn’t no time to think of cleanliness.”