Page 7 Advertisement 1

Camp News (Northern Command), Volume 1, Issue 5, 31 May 1940, Page 7

YULE SMILE r - I ? ' -i'll FIRE AT WILL!—AND WILL FLED To the platoon detailed to fight a rearguard action the sergeant was ' giving final instructions. L “Remember, as there are no enemy Ilin sight, we shall have to fire at will. Company—load! alji All except one man obeyed. The legged it like mad for the I main body of troops. - i “No message?” echoed the C.O. t when he panted up. “If you’re not a what the hell are you?” “W-w-well, you s-see, s-ir, it’s like this. I’M WILL.” ffl * > Di- * ♦ ♦ ♦ st Staunch Captain: Now then, my hearties, fight like heroes till your "powder’s gonethen run! I’m a little lame, so I’ll start now. ; ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ | I say, Mac, they tell me lam going laway in the Second Echelon as coriporal. I Mac: Sure, Corporal Punishment. si ♦ * * * | TAILPIECE: Voice from the blackfcut to group of men heard marching: ■‘Are you the West Riding RegiBnent ?”. ■ Voice back: “No, we’re East LancaShires, ruddy well walking!” * * * * * IT fl AND HE .SWALLOWED IT! It was supper-time and Jimmy’s ’oster-mother gave him custard and prunes. The little evacuee refused to 3at the prunes. its. “God will be very angry with you for not doing as you’re asked,” he -was told. At midnight a violent thunderstorm : sent the hostess hurrying into Jimmy’s | bedroom. The room was empty, but downstairs she found him gobbling the prunes. When he had finished he ■ looked out at the lightning. “Hell of a racket to make about a couple of prunes,” he mumbled. ■ ' *:!:**„ It was a filthy day. The recruits ||were “dumb.” Private Smith was the (dumbest of them all. The sergeant strode up to him. “What was your job in civil life?” he barked. i-x j “Bank clerk,” replied Smith. - / 1 “I suppose,” sneered the sergeant, “you dusted the desks and washed out the ink-wells, and made nice cups of tea for the manager?” I.'; “Oh, no, sir,” repiled Smith. “We kept an old sergeant for those jobs.” * * * * « |. - ■ I' GONE SCREW-Y IN FACT! 8 “Say, Bill, the sergeant ain’t ’alf i| lookin’ worried,” said the recruit. || “Yus,” replied his pal. “Pore bloke’s got so many wrinkles on his fore-ead ’ee ’as to screw ’is helmet 'J on iiiff.-