Brown: "Well, that one is Ananias, because his looks are all lies. This
one is Satan, but I nearly called him something else. It was a toss-up."
With a smile at the C.O., the sergeant-major remarked: "I would like to
know what the other name was. Tell the colonel, what was it?"
Brown: "Well, I was going to call him 'Sergeant-Major,' but I didn't
want to hurt his feelings."--_"Commo" (ex-Sergeant, R.A.M.C.), London,
N.1_.
"Don't Touch 'em, Sonny!"
We had just come back from Passchendaele, that land of two options--you
could walk on the duck boards and get blown off or you could step off
them yourself and get drowned in the shell-holes.
A draft from home had made us up to strength, and when Fritz treated
us to an air raid about eight miles behind the line I am afraid he was
almost ignored. Anyway, our Cockney sergeant was voicing the opinion
that it wasn't a bad war when up rushed one recruit holding the chin
strap of his tin hat and panting, "Aero--aero--aeroplanes." The
sergeant looked at him for a second and said, "All right, sonny, don't
touch 'em."
A flush came to the youngster's face, and he walked away--a
soldier.--_R. C. Ida, D.C.M. (late 2nd Royal Berks), 39 Hoylake Road,
East Acton, W.3._
"Ze English--Zey are all Mad!"
Early in 1915 an Anti-Aircraft Brigade landed at Dunkirk. Their guns
were mounted in armoured cars, the drivers for which were largely
recruited from London busmen.
By arrangement with the French staff it was decided that the password
to enable the drivers to pass the French lines should be the French
word _aviation_.
The men were paraded and made to repeat this word, parrot fashion, with
orders to be careful to use it, as it was said that French sentries had
a nasty habit of shooting first and making any inquiries afterwards.
About a month later I asked my lorry driver how he got on with the
word. "Quite easy, sir," said he. "I leans aht over the dash and yells
aht 'ave a ration,' and the Frenchies all larfs and lets me by."
A bit worried about this I interviewed the French Staff Officer and
asked him if the men were giving the word satisfactorily.
"Oh," he said, "zose men of yours, zey are comique. Your man, he
says somezing about his dinner, and ze ozzers zey say 'Ullo, Charlie
Chaplin,' and 'Wotcher, froggy'--all sorts of pass-words."
I apologised profusely. "I will get fresh orders issued," I said, "to
ensure that the men say the correct word."
"No," replied the French officer, "it ees no use. We know your men now.
Ze English will never alter--_zey are all mad_."--_G. H. Littleton
(Lieut.-Col.), 10 Russell Square Mansions, Southampton Row, W.C.1._