WW2-era army food
 

Karman and Geoff;
Don’t want to spoil your evening meal but here is an army tale that I am afraid will never be reported in regimental archives.
The regiment was stationed in Little Hampton. Myself and 7 other guys were billeted in a little room with a small coal fireplace. We had a great old guy by the name of Duke Mc…….. He was a Scotchman from Nova Scotia. How the enlistment officer misread his age, because I swear he must have been in his sixties. Now we were all jammed in this room foot to foot and we had our kit bags with us, which wasn’t always the case. Well Duke was quite a drinker and each night he would come home pretty well smashed. As you know, lights out meant lights out and so all you would see was a glow from the soft coal still burning in the fireplace. Duke had this rather unsanitary habit of urinating in the fireplace when he came home, as it was a long walk outside the building to the latrine. So I can tell you urinating on a soft coal fire was something else. If you have ever smelled piss on burning soft coal it would put mustard gas to shame.
On one evening I heard Duke come in and there was always someone who could nudge him to the fireplace, because none of us wanted to be anointed with urine. Well! I waited patiently for the hissing sound that I knew would surely come but nothing happened, to my surprise. The next morning when one of my buddies who was rather a reserved and dainty person and always received a great number of food gifts from home. The next morning he opened up his kit bag and said oh my God, my cake is soggy I must have spilled something over the Christmas cake my Mother sent me. Anyway he wanted to know if anybody wanted a piece of cake. Well I can tell you my answer was negative, negative, negative.
I then went in to a laughing spell that I could not control, If only this chap and the rest of the guys realized what truly happened Duke would have had a patrol waiting to take him to the latrine each night he came in late plastered. .
My question is, if the food gift had of been vegemite, would it have been soggier?

:D :D :D

Piddling Pete?
 

Norm here is another story from Bill DeHarte's "80 Years Under The Kilt"

Stanley was an engraver who worked for Eatons, and was by most of our standards a well-paid man. Eaton paid their employees who joined up the difference between their army pay and what their civilian pay would be,so he was a millionaire among us. He undertook to personally make Aldershot’s publicans happy. The barrack-rooms were “T” shaped with beds up each side of the shaft, and then around the cross-room that formed the “T”. Stanley slept at the left end of the T, with Robertson beside him, and they left their boots on the floor between the beds. One night Stanley came stumbling in well after “lights out” with only the very dim blue “black-out” bulb for lumination. He stopped between the beds and proceeded to pee in Robbie’s boots. Robbie, out of bed steered Stanley out to the urinal and to wash out his boots. A couple of days later, Stanley is on the town again. Robbie wisely moved his boots to the other side of the bed. In stumbled Stanley, stood between their beds, and then backed out, went around the other side and peed in Robbie‘s boots again!!! Robbie went through the same routine. He was a rough-talking, harsh-looking man, but very soft-hearted.
Alf. Dougherty, who slept at the other end of the room went on leave. The next time Stanley took out, Robbie moved all his kit to Dougherty’s spot and settled down. We all lay there waiting for Stanley. In he came, turned left as usual, took a couple of steps, stopped, turned around and came to the other end and peed in Robbie’s boots again. That was too much, Robbie hit him, and the next told him that was a sample of what could happen. surprisingly, though he still kept the pubs solvent, he never repeated his act.

wet
 

Piss on it, eh? :D:D:D:D:D

You guys are too funny ... Ma :yappy:

Note to self:

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