Wit of the Week

Camp News, Volume 1, Issue 40, 13 September 1940, Page 8

Wit of the Week

THE SERGEANT SHOUTED “WHOA”! Time after time one recruit was slow to halt when the command came. “What’s your job in civil life Jones?” the sergeant demanded. “I’m a horse-driver,” replied the recruit. “All right, we’ll try again.” ’ The recruit took his place in the squad and they marched off. WHOA, JONES . . . Halt squad,” commanded the sergeant. ***** Word had been passed round that the Commanding Officer, had offered his men £1 for every German shot. That night a look-out ran silently to his sleeping friend. He shook him. “Ssh,” he whispered, “Don’t wake the others, Bill. Just grab your rifle and come with me. There’s fifty thousand of the blighters coming over the top.” * * * *

“Do you usually have grace before meals?” asked the hostess as the evacuated children sat down to their first dinner. “No, mam,” replied one, “but we don’t mind trying some.’ ... . < ***** Two Germans were chatting in a room when a Gestapo agent bounded in “You’re both under arrest,’ ’he shouted. “Why?” asked one of the men. “We were only talking about a foreign Government.” “Nonsense,” retorted the agent, “I heart you say the Government is corrupt, immoral, and criminal. Every- : one knows there is only one Gov- . ernment like that. You’re both under arrest!” ***** Bill was in charge of a telephone at an outpost. At 2.30 a.m. the bell rang and a voice asked, “You all right * mate?” “Yes, chum, thanks,’ ’said Bill, ’ greatly cheered at the kindly though of the ringer. At the ninth inquiry Bill began to Ipse his temper; at the tenth he became really mad. “‘What the -——’s the idea?” he bawled. “D’ye think I’m a infant?” “S’all right, chum,” came the reply. “We’ve got a sweepstake on here, and I’ve drawn you as the first casualty.” *****

Into the recruiting office went Rastus to do his bit. He wanted t© join the infantry. “Sorry, sonny, Full up in the infantry.” Then coaxingly, “How about a cavalry regiment?” took up his hat hurriedly. “No, suh. No cavalry for me, suh. When dey sound de retreat ah sho don’ want to be hampered by no hoss.”

“Quite sure you can cut your meat dear?” asked the kindly hostess 01 the young evacuee. “Oh, 'yes, thank you,” replied the youngster. “We often have it as tough as this at home.” ***** The family had spent hours impressing upon grandma, aged ninetynine, the importance of the gas-mask, sand-bagging and rationing. Time after time they had told hei the situation was serious, that all must help win the war. Grandma had listened attentively at first. Then, tiring of the repeated instructions, she revolted. . “This Hitler you talk so* much about seems a big man,” she burst out. “But they never made all this fuss in the Crimea War . . . and (proudly) THAT was quite a big turn-out., too.” ***** “War declared. Arrest all enemy aliens.” The message was flashed to

an obscure official somewhere in the heart of Africa. Back came his reply: “Have arrested seven Germans, two Dutchmen, a Portuguese, a Swede, three Americans, three Italians and a Russian . . . please reply who at war with.” * . * * * y * After * a hard morning’s drill, the company were awaiting dinner. In the kitchen, cook was scratching his head to find a way out of a nasty dilemma. He had just remembered that he had made the soup in an unwashed tea urn. Then he had a brainwave. Walking in with the soup, he announced: “If any of your blokes find tea leaves in the soup you’ll know it’s mint!” * * * * “Where born?” snapped the recruiting officer. “Newport, Mon.,” came the quick reply. - The recruit behind looked puzzled. Then his turn came. “Where born?’ barked the officer. Smartly came the answer: “Sheffield, Wednesday.” *****

First Whitehall Typist: “The general’s new moustache amuses me.” Second ditto (off guard) : “Yes, doesn’t it tickle.”