By Spike Milligan
'At Victoria station the R.T.O. gave me a trip warrant, a white feather and an image of Hitler marked 'This is your enemy'. I searched each compartment, yet he wasn't at the train'. Spike Milligan's at the march, blitzing good friend and foe alike together with his uproarious memories of military lifestyles from enlistment to the touchdown at Algiers in 1943. Bathos, pathos and gales of drunken laughter, and insane army goonery explode in superlative Milliganese.
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Extra resources for Adolf Hitler: My Part in his Downfall (War Memoirs Vol. 1)
M. blew the six G’s until he had fits, a hernia, and realised the age of the horse was over. He was knocked out in the early Montgomery Purge. Anyhow, we had learned our lesson: we knew now what six G’s on the bugle meant. Hernia, fits, and your ticket. Gunner Mosman. He’d get blind drunk, stagger back by 23:59 hours, feel his way into the barrack room then urinate in a corner. One day a well-spoken recruit, Gunner Donald, arrived. ” Of course we didn’t mind. That night, we heard the sound of Mosman streaming on the sleeping form of Gunner Donald, and strange damp screams from the victim who was a mouth breather.
I can’t understand it,” he said. ” Whatever that was supposed to mean I’ll never know. We climbed into bed. “I’ve never heard so many bombers before,” said Harry. We lay in bed smoking for about quarter of an hour, then Smudger Smith came in. ” We pulled on our trousers and climbed up on the roof. The sky was on fire. Other Gunners had joined us. We watched in silence for a while. “I fink it’s London,” said a cockney voice. “Could be,” said another. George Vincent went down for his prismatic compass.
An English version of the Highland Fling, see page 100. As a parting gift our host gave us each a fiver. We stood stunned. ” He waved us off. Outside, in the dark, we loaded our gear on to the fifteen hundredweight truck. Looking up I saw the night was alive with stars. In the Eastern sky I could make out Saturn, Pegasus, Castor and Pollux. I could hear the distant sound of sea washing the pebbled beaches of Pevensey. The Romans must have heard it once. We drove back in silence until Alf Fildes spoke.