Part 6 (2/2)
It put a terrible damper on the rest of the holiday and soon we were in the lorry rumbling back to our Alma Mater, Maddaloni. Trouble with lorries is you can only see out of the back. ”You see where you've been and you already know that,” says the Yew.
Sometimes - on a dark night - I still see Anna's face.
April 17 MY DIARY: MY DIARY: MY BIRTHDAY. I'M 27. HAD EXTRA CUP OF TEA. MY BIRTHDAY. I'M 27. HAD EXTRA CUP OF TEA.
The news tells us that the Germans in Italy are on their last legs.
Fuhrer Bunker Fuhrer Bunker HITLER IS IN THE KARZI GIVING HIMSELF ONE OF DOCTOR MORRELL'S ENEMAS. HITLER IS IN THE KARZI GIVING HIMSELF ONE OF DOCTOR MORRELL'S ENEMAS. ADOLPH: ADOLPH: Allez oops! Ahhh! Dat is better. Allez oops! Ahhh! Dat is better. GOEBBELS: GOEBBELS: Mein Fuhrer, mein Fuhrer. Mein Fuhrer, mein Fuhrer. ADOLPH: ADOLPH: Dere's only one of me. Dere's only one of me. GOEBBELS: GOEBBELS: In Italy our troops are running out of legs. In Italy our troops are running out of legs. ADOLPH: ADOLPH: You Schwein, you haff ruined my happy enema hour. You Schwein, you haff ruined my happy enema hour.
I see Thelma Oxnevad. ”Spike, did you enjoy your leave?” Never mind that, Thelma, marry me at eight o'clock tonight. QMS Ward is asking me to come back to the band. I say, what about my impending coronary? He says that's all s.h.i.+t. As a qualified Quarter Master Sergeant he says I'm fit. But playing the trumpet could kill me! Yes it could, but if I take the risk, so will he. OK, I'll try. There I'll be, playing a great Bunny Berrigan chorus, I hit a top G, clutch my heart and crash face downwards on a mattress. ATS Candy Withers will raise my lovely head in her arms. Have I any last request? Yes, yes, yes, if she could just take her clothes off.
Also my thespian talents are in demand! Sergeant Lionel Hamilton thinks I could play a part in The Thread of Scarlet The Thread of Scarlet. Will I be the knot? We start rehearsing, but that old Black Magic called Manic Depression attacks me and I'm put to bed with Aspirins Aspirins. What a doctor, I suppose he's still practising. G.o.d knows, he needs to. The play goes on, and horror of horrors, it's a success!
Someone is worse off than me. Mussolini has been murdered; he and his mistresses are hanging upside down in a garage in Milan.
It was a barbaric act that puts the clock back. However, the natives seem happy. Nothing like an a.s.sa.s.sination to cheer the ma.s.ses.
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The Mussolini Ma.s.sacre. They shoot horses, don't they?
May 1 MY DIARY: MY DIARY: IT'S OVER! JERRY SURRENDERS! IT'S OVER! JERRY SURRENDERS!
I had just sat down at my morning desk still reeking of porridge when a very excited Colonel Startling Grope thundered into the office. ”Have you heard Terence? It's over! I've just spoken to Alex at AFHQ and it's OVER! General Vietinghoff von Nasty is at the Palace now now signing the surrender.” signing the surrender.”
”Great! Do I have to sign anything, Stanley Sir? I mean, I I haven't agreed to the surrender.” We can have the day off, he's right, it's time we had it off. The Ities are in the street singing 'Finito, Benito Finito' and 'Lae thar p.i.s.s tub darn bab'. The bells of the churches ring out their iron victory message. haven't agreed to the surrender.” We can have the day off, he's right, it's time we had it off. The Ities are in the street singing 'Finito, Benito Finito' and 'Lae thar p.i.s.s tub darn bab'. The bells of the churches ring out their iron victory message.
I walked back through the milling streets, lay on my bed and lit up a Capstan. I could hear the din outside and running footsteps, but I was strangely quiet. Suddenly a complete change of direction. How do you handle the end of a Campaign? I wanted to cry. Was it really over? 31,000 Allied troops had died - a city of the dead. Is a war ever really over?
A few days pa.s.s and Steve comes into the room. He is grinning: ”Have you seen? He's dead.” He shows me the headlines. 'HITLER, SUICIDE IN BUNKER' 'HITLER, SUICIDE IN BUNKER'. ”Yes, he's dead, his tart and and his b.l.o.o.d.y dog.” He hammered the words out like nails in a coffin. his b.l.o.o.d.y dog.” He hammered the words out like nails in a coffin.
I had better news. Back at the officers' club in Portici I had snaffled a bottle of Dom Perignon 1935. ”I've been saving this, Steve,” I said, producing the bottle from its wrapper. We toasted the end in our enamel mugs. We sat grinning in silence. It was all too much; two soldiers; just statistics; where did we fit in...? Mind you, they were still fighting in Berlin, but most of the orchestra had stopped playing.
The Russians are sweeping into Berlin. Their might is awesome. The Allies and the Russians meet on the Elbe. At Luneburg Heath, Monty accepts the German surrender. It's over. Just like that. One day war, the next it's peace. It's almost absurd. The entire energy of O2E is vested in preparations for the official V-E Night celebrations. It would appear that only alcohol can generate true happiness: hundreds of bottles, barrels and fiasco are stock-piled in every available area. They are scrubbing out the fountain! Why? It's the brainchild of RSM Warburton who has ordained that it be 'filled with wine'. They had tried to get the fountains to gush, but the plumbing had long since decayed. The date is fixed. In Part Two orders: YOU YOU WILL WILL ALL HAVE A GOOD TIME, YOU ALL HAVE A GOOD TIME, YOU WILL WILL GET DRUNK, AND YOU WILL ALL STAGGER AROUND...YOU WILL GET SICK OVER EACH OTHER FOR YOUR KING AND COUNTRY. THE BAND WILL PLAY FOR DANCING UNTIL 2 A.M. GET DRUNK, AND YOU WILL ALL STAGGER AROUND...YOU WILL GET SICK OVER EACH OTHER FOR YOUR KING AND COUNTRY. THE BAND WILL PLAY FOR DANCING UNTIL 2 A.M.[image][image]
The Square in Alexander Barracks ”Where did all those b.l.o.o.d.y Union Jacks come from?” Steve is counting the ma.s.s of flags that are now starting to appear around the barracks.
”Doesn't it make you feel good,” I said, ”to know that, despite it all, there are factories still making the British Flag.”
”Oh yes, there's nothing like a good old Union Jack to cheer you up.”
”I always carried a photo of the flag, and many a dark night in a muddy trench, I've taken it out and said to my trench mate: ”Cheer up,” and shown him my Union Jack. There would always be a response.” Wait! American flags are appearing. ”My G.o.d,” I cry out, ”they're running out of Union Jacks...!” It's getting bad! Italian flags are being hoisted, Russian! Any minute now the Ovaltinies' emblem will be shown. Janker wallahs on ladders are putting up hurriedly painted banners. VICTORY IN EUROPE! others: WELL DONE O2E! A large board with a hand giving the Victory salute. It's all happening.
I was still wondering if my brother had survived the last days of fighting. I saw him in Sydney last year and he was still alive. At the time I did not know he was still alive in Sydney.
Tuesday 8 May Official Victory celebrationsssssss, commence! It starts with the day off. We can obtain breakfast up to and including ten hundred hours.
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Sergeant Beaton gives a long thanksgiving speech: ”Let us be grateful for this Victory.” We were grateful when he'd finished. On the hills behind the town, the Italians are climbing up to make a giant bonfire for the evening, a prelude to which is the occasional trial firework exploding in the street. We wash, rinse and sterilize our mess tins, then wipe them dry with disease-ridden teacloths. Years later, Peter Sellers told me that on this identical day, he was in Ceylon, telling an RAF MO that he (Sellers, that is) had heard a tiger outside his hut the previous night. There being no tigers in Ceylon, LAC Sellers was recommended for a Psychiatrist's Report. Alas, what transpired at that session has never been recorded.
PSYCHIATRIST:.
Aircraftsman Sellers, you say that you've been hearing tigers.
SELLERS:.
Yes, sir, there was one outside my hut.
PSYCHIATRIST:.
Do you know there are no tigers in Ceylon?
SELLERS:.
Well there are now.
PSYCHIATRIST:.
It says, and I quote: ”I heard heard a tiger growling.” a tiger growling.”
SELLERS:.
Yes sir.
PSYCHIATRIST:.
You're sure it wasn't some other carnivore? I mean, lots of growls sound the same.
SELLERS:.
Not this one, sir, this growl had stripes on.
At immediately-it-was-ready, the festivities started.
The Dance Hall is packed. For the first time Italian civilians are allowed in. A drunken fug hangs over everything. They've been drinking since dawn. In Alexander Square tables are laid with myriad edibles, a display that would have been a feast in rationed England. Fairy lanterns bedeck the trees, wine is flowing freely and the fountain is full of red chianti. It looks wonderful. On the hill the giant bonfire is alight. Fireworks are exploding in the streets under the great display of orchestrated electric lights.
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V-E Night in Merry Maddaloni We've never played so good. Charlie Ward sings: ”We're gonna get lit up when the lights go on in London.” It's like an anthem. A great chorus comes from the dancers. Colonel Startling Grope has sent us up six bottles of Asti Spumante! The evening wears on, the dancers wear out. A GI joins us. His name is Ken Mule. He sings with the band. What a find - he sounds like d.i.c.k Haymes! More booze is coming up, but I'm keeping mine down. At two o'clock the dance finishes, but some of the band are 'into it' and go on jamming. I creep off and accost lovely Rosetta Page. We get a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of Valpolicella. Soon we are snogging.
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