Part 6 (1/2)

”OK,” he grinned.

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Winners of the 1st Army Trilby Hat Contest

20 Feb. 1943 Battery Diary: Battery Diary: Activity of enemy patrols in the hills west of Battery has increased considerably. 6 Commandoes have come up on Division Front. Degree of alertness increased to one third stand to during hours of darkness. Bombing and listening posts established in gully running north into hills. 936338 W/Bdr Jones L. W. accidentally wounded during action exercise Activity of enemy patrols in the hills west of Battery has increased considerably. 6 Commandoes have come up on Division Front. Degree of alertness increased to one third stand to during hours of darkness. Bombing and listening posts established in gully running north into hills. 936338 W/Bdr Jones L. W. accidentally wounded during action exercise.

Shapiro and I trudged dustily along the line.

”Some b.a.s.t.a.r.d's stole my shaving brush,” I said.

”That's funny, some b.a.s.t.a.r.d's stolen mine.”

We were walking over wheat fields now flattened by war machines. It was magnificent country, spring was at hand, the wild flowers were beginning to sprout, the wheat crops were about a foot high, and lush broad beans were about to flower. Compared with the English variety, these were giants, and there were acres and acres of them around El Aroussa flat lands. This was rich and fertile growing country, but depended on rain, the ancient Roman irrigation system having fallen into ruin. Another plant, Borage, was growing freely in the ditches as were little blue and red anemones that grew among the wheat stalks. Broom was about to bud. Looking back towards the guns, we were in a broad flat valley with high hills and mountains to our right, some craggy and precipitous, some smooth and rolling like the South Downs. Among the flat rock faces, lizards, chameleons and an occasional gecko would be found taking the warmth of the rocks. A few white cabbage b.u.t.terflies had appeared along with several orange tips. In the evenings swifts appeared, from where I'll never know. The African sky was like most other skies, save it had the quality of brilliant light. One felt oneself being urged to paint, paint, paint! As we trudged forward I wrote on various stones little messages for those who might follow in our footsteps.

”This way for World War II,” or ”h.e.l.lo Soldier, having fun.”

”You have just pa.s.sed Go. Collect 200 pounds.”

”Insure now now with the Prudential.” with the Prudential.”

Shapiro was patting his pockets...”Got a f.a.g?”

Me: Yes.

Shapiro: Since we have been in action I've smoked more.

Me: I've got plenty since I smoked a pipe.

Shapiro: Ta.

The scene: I lit him up and then lit my pipe.

Shapiro: What's it like with a pipe?

Me: ”It's a psychological difference.”

Shapiro: ”What's that mean?”

Me: ”I don't know. I read it in a medical book.”

Shapiro: ”Let me try!”

The scene: He took the pipe, drew, inhaled, then burst out coughing. His eyes started to water, ”Ohhh dear! f.u.c.king terrible! How do you inhale that c.r.a.p?”

Me: ”You don't.”

Shapiro: ”Now he tells me. I'll stick to f.a.gs.”

Me: ”Yes, stick to yours.”

Shapiro: Tell you what, you want to sell me some ?

Me: You come quickly on the hour!

Shapiro: How much?

Me: How much you got?

Shapiro: You thieving sod.

Me: It's twenty f.a.gs, twenty francs. Business is business. We are fighting a capitalist war, so it's twenty francs!

Shapiro unb.u.t.tons his left hand battle-dress pocket. You would tell by the wear and tear on the leading edges it was where he kept his lolly. He took out his pay book, opened it, laying between the leaves was 500 francs.

”You done a robbery?” I said.

”No, I save it and send it home to my mother, and she buys houses with it.”

He counted me out two tens.

”You're a b.l.o.o.d.y robber,” he said smiling. I could but think of the added burden he had being Jewish. If the Germans took him prisoner...

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Milligan selling cigarettes to Gunner Shapiro in the heat of battle

The line tested, we made for the Bren Carrier at the bottom of the hill. ”Anybody in?” I called. Bombardier Sherwood appeared from under the scrim net. ”Ahh! you're just you're just in time for tea.” Bombardier Hart was in the very act of pouring it. He looked up. in time for tea.” Bombardier Hart was in the very act of pouring it. He looked up.

”Cor, Cohen and Kelly! you don't half time it right.”

”We persecuted minorities have to use our nut.” I untied my tea mug from my waist. ” Weee Craskkhhhh.” An eighty-eight! Then another and another and another, then lots of anothers-in all about twenty rounds. We hugged the side of the Bren Carrier. The smell of cordite drifted across, fragments of metal scattered around us. It stopped as suddenly as it started.

”I think Jerry can see the b.l.o.o.d.y lot of us all all the time,” I said, ”whenever I've come up here, he's thrown a few over.” the time,” I said, ”whenever I've come up here, he's thrown a few over.”

”It's you you, Milligan,” said Sherwood. ”You're a Jonah, get in the Bren Carrier and we'll throw you over the side.”

We drank our tea. After two days in action I knew the most dangerous gun in Africa was the 88 mm, its low trajectory gave no warning of approach.

”Who's at the O.P.” I asked.