Six-inch Men

Observation Post, Volume 1, Issue 30, 11 December 1942, Page 11

Six-inch Men

(By Gnr. M. A. Parker.) A TALE OF TWO GUNNERS. To come upon, in the darkness, two pair of fishlike eyes glaring damply right through you, and these eyes, mounted over two yawning fishlike mouths would be most disconcerting. In the harsh light of day, this phenomenon would .reveal: itself as some inanimate object, previously rendered fearful by a combination of moonlight, jumpy nerves and optical gymnastics. We are not concerned however with occular theories, but with two gunners, of that school of philosophy which con aiders, and rightly so, that alcoholic liquor, or plain z booze, is the natural anodyne for all maladies, both mental and physical. These two men, at first glance, give rise to an illusion. They stood in the true “Hoyle’’ positron, with legs apart, heads thrown back, apparently suspended by the mouths from two handles, at which they were gulping manfully. ' They applied elevation rapidly, and as the frothing flood vanished from its glassy container, their adam’s apples bobbed up and down in the vertical plane with enthusiastic rapidity.. Looking at them from eye level only, they resembled re markably the fishy spectre already referred to. The sound of suction increased and rising to a crescendo, finished with as juicy a squelsh as any heavily moustached soup swiller ever achieved. For perhaps ten seconds they continued to apply suction with a hopeful optimism, but as nothing was forthcoming but aridly dry air, they switched off their vacuum gear, and with slightly hurt expressions, replaced the two tankards on the bar, with a suggestive one and twopence alongside them. BERT AND TONY. With the glassware removed from their faces they presented a remarkable pair, the first who for want of a better name, we could call Bert, presented all the characteristics of an apostle of Bacchus. His most prominent feature was a nose, which for its size and lurid hue, tipped with a snow cap of froth, completely dominated and subdued the rest of his face. On getting past this obstacle, a pair of sad reproachful eyes looked wetly upon the world, while surmounting his melancholy upper lip, was a

straggling growth possessing also its burden of artificial snow. His F.S. cap fitted his head like a canoe, and but for the cradling effect of his ears, would have slipped down over most of his upperworks. His battledress was wrinkled and shapeless and looked as if he had concertinered down a foot or so. His companion was the acme of what the well-dressed soldier should be, from a jauntily tilted hat to his glistening shoes, not a button or pocket was out op place. He wore a tie, peeping demurely from the neck of his battledress, ironed back at just the right angle. Every now and then he would adjust the fall of his sharply, creased pants, slightly belled at the bottom, and suggesting a two-inch gusset. His face was brown and regular, with merry blue eyes, a laughing mouth, and a stray lock of curly golden hair escaped under the brim of his ‘ ‘ officer ’s felt. ’ ’ To those who might be curious, I will introduce him as Tony. /

The barman had grasped the two handles, and with the gusto and flourish peculiar to his tjade, was applying himself to the pump. Two long pulls, a short one, and a couple of squirts and once more the beakers were bubbling over the brim with the "amber and cool.’’

j For a while Bert contemplated his portion with a delicious anticipation, then turning his head he said, ‘‘ Ow much on the z "Tote’’ now Tony?’’ Tony elevated his brows and replied, "Damned if I know old top, but judging by the sparcity of my exchequer, a goodly total.’’ Bert blinked once or twice and then hitched a jaundiced eye back to the bar, and stared fi-xidly at the two handles. With a somewhat unsteady hand, he reached out, grasped his measure, and transferred it to his face. Tony did likewise. In a space of appreciative silence, suction was once more applied and when the two beakers were lowered, their contents was sadly depleted. Tony looked at Bert and then continued to look, with an expression of hope, even awe. By the facial contortions he perceived, he could tell that Bert was about to spin one of his whoppers, and was going through the preliminary mental struggle for words. (Continued Next Week.)