At Home With the 98th
Despite the reorganisation, disorganisation, disintegration or any other nomenclature which one cares to apply to the present shemozzle, the show must go on, but wondrous strange are the duties of military minions. Take for example the day preceding the farewell dinner given at Regiment to the Brigade Commander. Getting the Bird ' The rain was pelting down and the wind had reached gale force. The Administrative Officer sitting in a comfortable fug was busy on one of the innumerable returns so dear to the heart of Regiment, between times mentally commiserating - with any poor unfortunates 'who might :be exposed to the elements, when the ’phone . rang. It was ; the." AssistantAdjutant requesting the A.O. to procure a brace of birds to grace the festive board. 1 Donning sou’»wester and oilskins, and making sure that the self-emptying cockpit in the car was in working order, this intrepid officer sallied forth. • A landfall in the shape of a poultry farm was made with unerring skill, and the nature of the erand shouted above the noise of the gale, to the poultress, or whatever the wives of poultry-keepers are called. From snatches of the shouted reply, the poultry procurer gathered that the man of the house was away, but that she would endeavour to select a pair, brace, couple, duo, or what, of drakes that would bring tears of joy to the eyes of an epicurean. Battling against the tempest, the duckyard was at long length
reached and a local feathered version of catch as catch can commenced. Catching ducks might be a very entertaining sport: for those who like it and when played 1 under good conditions, but when played" by one not versed with ,the rules, and not possessing a sense of humour which responded to slipping around in mud up to-, the ankles, the thought occurred to the officer that something out of a tin or a pound of sausages would, have been a: lot easier. Two fine birds were eventually snared and taken to the block where they were to depart this vale of misery. Grasping the axe firmly and’ fully observing the three rules of aiming, the officer made a savage attempt upon the life of the first loudly-protesting bird. Opening his eyes to observe the results the white-faced A.O. could only record a near miss. Setting in more T.E. he again essayed his skill, but this was no better. The look of reproach in the eyes of the duck was too much for him, and it was tactfully suggested that he should hold the victims steady what time ’ the poultress by guile, skill or any other means did the . trick, with highly commendable results. Numerology After this war I propose setting up business as a numerologist. A bloke approaches' touches his forelock and enquires about a form of release from the Army, “You need an N.S 179 but I am afraid we have none just now.” Another, but slightly older bloke accosts you, and after throwing a . snappy salute with his left hand, makes a similar request, “Oh, you need to make application on an N.S. 177 but we- do not possess any. See the M.P.0.” And yet another after knuckling his forehead enquires, as to when he will be released, “Your N.S. 175 hasA.not yet been received, but when to hand we shall clear your NZ 324, make up your NZ 772 and send them under cover of a 701 to R.H.Q. Of course any equipment you hand in will be. covered by a 148, and any shortage on a 323. On the infrequent occasions when I get home on leave,
per force of habit, I suggest to my wife that she make out an AB 55 for that pound of sausages. .
Personalities
We have some very lovable characters in the 98th, quite apart from the Waacs.
First of all, do you know the Muffin Man (that has a familiar sound)? Small of ; stature, large of nose, greyhaired, and eyes that sparkle with impish glee, he is always the self-ap-pointed M.C. of any function.
If the services of this S/Sgt. are required, look for him by the servery or wherever the greatest concentration of Waac power is to be found, and there he will be, striking a nautical attitude and retailing the colourful, not to say lurid, story of his life. His many accomplishments include his Muffin Act, and Cardinal ’uff, although his reluctance to pay the numerour penalties he incurs give cause for some conjecture.
Then we have Lofty, that genial long-limbed, sergeant renowned for his grilled steaks. Lofty, possesses a very remarkable voice, rather like the sound of distant thunder, but the illusion is shattered every now and again by it breaking and emitting a thin tremulo. His rendering of “Mother McCree” is something, once heard, is never-to-be-forgotten.” A remarkable change has been observed in Lofty lately, however, and is causing his bonnie wee Jean considerable apprehension. . Among the officers there is one who may be seen during his leisure hours collecting odd pieces of grass. What he does with them is a mystery. Some are of the opinion that it might be a love potion, others suggest that it forms the basis for home brew, where- 1 as the more charitable suggest a course of Botany under the AEWS. The same officer was recently called upon to say grace at a formal mess without due warning having been previously given. He started off with a rush, “Thank God —” halted, stammered, blushed furiously, admitted . that was all he knew, and sat down in confusion. Another officer, “Jessel, old boy,” during a recent stay at B.H.Q. was
badly caught on several occasions for breaches of mess etiquette and had to pay the penalty. Since then he has. been making determined attempts to recoup his losses, and it is now necessary for fellow officers to carry out rigid mutual inspections before entering the mess to ensure that no “pips” are upside down, etc., as we know that under the pretence of brushing a speck off our already immaculate uniforms, he is really checking up on the general turn out. The Acting Battery Commander is to date his best catch, when the aforesaid officer endeavoured to sneak into his bedroom unobserved to repair the omission of pips. We also have an expert Cardinal Huff performer, who has qualified as a pope on three consecutive occasions on ginger ale. Can he do it on beer? Be sure to order the next publication for the sequel.
The 'young English officer was extremely conceited and boring. . “It’s a fact,” he boasted to the young lady, “that people often take me for a members of the Guards.” “Really?” drawled the girl. “Fire, railway, mud or black?”
Permanent link to this item
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Bibliographic details
Flak, Volume 1, Issue 3, 15 April 1943, Page 4
Word Count
1,128At Home With the 98th Flak, Volume 1, Issue 3, 15 April 1943, Page 4
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