Rambling Anecdotes

[4V50 Gary]

I've heard nightmare stories about the KMT armies. March through a village and grab the peasants and tie them down at night so they can't desert. Limit of 5 bullets a soldier if they were lucky enough to get them. Constant retreat w/Japanese hot on their tails. Poor training if any training at all. Corrupt leadership with one of Chiang Kai Shek's brother-in-laws stealing 90% of the funds, the general taking his 90%, the colonel 90% and so on until the soldier got barely anything. US advisers were so frustrated they suggested that weapons be given to the Commies who were willing to fight the Japanese. CKS was conserving his strength for the post-war Chinese Civil War.

I give your grandfather a lot of credit for surviving through those horrid battles and the war. Can you tell more?

[tangolima]

All you said is mostly true, except that chicom didn't do jack. KMT did the heavy lifting. The communists just sheltered themselves to get stronger, and fooled the Americans, so that they could seize power after the war. Look at the number of people who died in action, overwhelmingly KMT, officers and enlisted. But that's for some other time.

That grandfather was my mother's father. His cousin, my mother's uncle, was studying at St. John college in Shanghai. He volunteered when the Japanese invaded Shanghai, and became 2nd lieutenant. He remembered the Americans fighting with them. He remembered the flying tigers defending Kunming.

On my father's side, 2 uncles were officers. One died of dieses. One was missing.

Grandfather didn't talk much about the war. He told me those bits when he was half drunk. Maybe he said more, but that is what I remember.

-TL

Sent from my SM-N960U using Tapatalk

[4V50 Gary]

Nurses and teenage boys drafted to help are helping unload wounded from an ambulance train that just arrived from the Eastern Front.

A "walking wounded" with his right arm missing shouted, "Hey sister, I am right-handed. How do I wipe my a**?"
"You are right handed? Use your right foot," said one of the nurses. Everyone still conscious laughed.
"You think that's possible?"
"Listen," she replied, "the Fuhrer said, "For a German soldier, nothing is impossible.' Nothing!" Again wild laughter, soldiers' gallows humor.

[4V50 Gary]

Patton visits the Sultan of Morroco.

"During the tea some screams were heard followed by two shots. The Sultan excused himself and walked out with great dignity and after a while returned. General Nogues asked him what happened. He said that one of the panthers in the museum had made a very beautiful leap of twenty feet and had gone through the hole and started to eat up one of the ladies of the harem, but some of the guards had shot it. The lady was only cut on the throat, and it made little differene, as she was not a wife, but a concubine. With this slight interruption tea went on."

Patton's War As I Knew It pgs 14-5.

[4V50 Gary]

Pre WW II Austria and a young boy has his Catholic Confirmation Ceremony but his God Uncle wouln't buy him a gold watch like other boys traditionally received (but in all fairness, it's the depression and who has money?). Oh well.

He was asked what he would like to eat in the celebratory meal that followed at his aunt's house.

"I wanted a schnitzel so large that it hung over all of the edges of the plate. That was what I'd been promised and I had a right to it.

"The table was already laid out after our return from church. I noticed that in front of my seat there was no dinner plate, rather just a little sugar dish, as is used in Austria for the sugar cubes. I thought this must be a mistake and so I fetched a bigger plate for myself. After a short time, as we sat down for our supper, at my spot there was only the tiny sugar dish again. But then auntie came with the schnitzels already, handing out the portions for everyone during which she passed over me. Lastly, I received as I wanted my schnitzel, it even hung over all the sides of the plate, only the dish was tiny and the schnitzel 'bigger' by comparison.

"I sat there flabbergasted, everyone looked at me and laughed at the top of their voices.

"I started to bawl, knocking the midget schnitzel back and howling like a wounded dog. I still don't know today why I had taken this harmless joke so seriously back then. I only know that I didn't take a single bite from either the small schnitzel nor from the larger one they brought out after. I was deeply hurt. First everyone spoke nicely to me, then they all told me off, but the day was totally ruined for me now."

Taken from 30 Years' Travel, page 86. It's also offers insights into post WW I depression era Austria.

BTW, a stunt was done in my family. My nephew loved chocolate cake so one was made for him. Initially he only received the top curved portion that was sliced off to make the cake flat for the frosting. It had frosting and candles on it along with his name. He didn't bawl like the kid above did but accepted it. Then the real layered cake was brought out and the joy on his face was priceless.

[4V50 Gary]

"Patton was a hearty eater and very fond of good food, particularly pies and pastries. On his African beachhead he 'captured' the cook to satisfy this taste.

"It was the first night, very dark, and the situation very tense. Everyone had his finger on the trigger. The challenge was 'George,' the reply 'Patton,' He was all over the beechhead, prodding an directing when sudddenly a near-by sentry yelled, 'Halt, who's there!'

"A long silence followed. Again the sentry barked, 'Who goes there! George!' Again no reply for a moment. Then, in squeaky, broken English, 'Me no George. Me Sergeant Lee. Best damned cook in U. S. Army.'

"Before the sentry could reply, Patton shouted, 'Sentry, grab that man. If he's the best damned cook in the Army, I want him. Bring him here.'

"That was the way Sergeant Thue P. Lee, American-born Chinese, precipitiously transferred from an Engineer battalion to Patton's personal entourage, to cook appreciatively for him until he died."

From page 44 of Col. Robert S. Allen's Lucky Forward. The history of Patton's Third U. S. Army. Col. Allen was a staff officer in the Third Army.

[4V50 Gary]

"The Germans sure wouldn't give up, and we had another occasion to provide entertainment when they attempted another review of the flats. Goodale, a few other troopers and I sat and watched a patrol circle the far side. There was a dike there offering them some cover and they could have gone undetected if they had crawled instead of stooping. The Lieutenant had six enemy soldiers spotted from way back through his field glasses. When the Germans reached the range he wanted, Goodale turned from his glasses.

'Someone man the .30 caliber.'

"I was the closest, so without looking around for Warren or another gunner I climbed into the hole. I hadn't fired a machine gun since Basic Training.

"'Set your sight for 300 yards. Fire when ready.'

"I knew what I was doing, but didn't know if the other guys knew that I knew. The weapon-sight was cranked up to 300; I lined up on the first man and pulled the trigger. Tracers launched form the muzzle flew instantly to their intended target. With a direct hit I pumped several rounds into the first man. His chest just exploded but his body was slow to drop; then it sort of melted to the ground. It was a gruesome death. I lifted my aim and before they knew what hit them, three more of the six-man patrol were laid on the ground. The other two ran for their lives in different directions. I stopped firing and let them disappear behind the dikes.

"Lieutenant Goodale lowered his glasses and looked my way. 'Damn, Dwayne, where did you learn to shoot like that?'

'I tried to suppress a grin. 'Us radio guys are taught to send communciations through the air. I figure they got the message.'"

What Sgt. Burns didn't tell the lieutenant was that when he was first trained and before he became a paratrooper he was a machine gunner (pg 3).

From pg 126-7 of Dwayne T. Burns' Jump Into the Valley of the Shadow.

[4V50 Gary]

While e/r through Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge:

"In places where we couldn't stop, the townsfolk lined the street to wave and cheer. They also threw bread and apples. That was how I might have earned a Purple Heart: as we went through one village, I was turned to face a small crowd just in time to get hit in the eye with an apple.
"'Yeow!'
"'Burns are you all right?' Joe was sympathetic.
"'Yeah, I guess. Whose side are they on?'
"'Someout out there must have a good right arm judging from the way it came in.'
"'I'm not bleeding or anything unusual am I?'
"Joe grinned. 'No, but that's too bad. You could've earned a Purple Heart.'
"'No thanks. I'd have to tell the medics I was hit by a flying missile. And if they asked what type, I'd have to answer it was a 'Red Delicious.'"

Same book, p 161.

[4V50 Gary]

Gallows humor from a general:

"If in danger,
If in doubt,
Run in circles,
Scream and shout!"

From Tony Lumpkin's Captured Yesterday, p.71.

[4V50 Gary]

British and American officer PoWs in a German camp were permitted to garden and found the soil far too hard to break up with the tools they were issued.

"They simply started a rumor that there was a tunnel in the area, and the Germans brought in a platoon to dig up the soil looking for a tunnel, and therefore loosened the soil for their garden."

Pretty smart. ROFLMAO.

From p 233-4 of Tony Lupkin's Captured Yesterday.

One thing I noticed is that our enlisted personnel could be starved and forced to work. Hardly any Red Cross food parcels reached them and they were feed bread with wood flour (sawdust) as well as a watery soup. Lupkin mentions the ferquency of packages that the officers received.

[4V50 Gary]

As a response to Braddock's Defeat (Battle of Monongahela) in 1755, the British Army had to adapt to forest warfare. A new regiment, the 62nd Royal Americans was raised (Christmas Day, 1755) and was supposed to be composed of Swiss or German immigrants. Swiss Col. Henry Bouquet was given command of the 2nd Division of the First Battalion of the now renumbered 60th Regiment. He served mainly in Pennsylvania while the rest of the 1/60 (1st Division) served in upstate NY (Ticonderoga area). They were armed with the 46" barrel Brown Bess musket with wood ramrods. I think iron later replaced the wood ones as Bouquet's papers includes accounts of spare ramrods both wood and iron.

Anyway, after the second battle of Quebec was fought, the British received reinforcements first and so the French conceded at the Treaty of Paris, 1763. However, the locals weren't too happy (many supported the French) and when the British got cheap with the gifts and couldn't stop the incursions into land that was supposed to be theirs, the locals united under Pontiac and in a coordinated attack, destroyed many of the small British garrisons that guarded the frontier. Fort Detroit and Fort Pitt (modern day Pittsburg) held.

To relieve the besieged garrison and settlers at Fort Pitt, Col. Henry Bouquet led a small column from Fort Ligonier westward. Before they reached Fort Pitt, they were attacked. Driven to a hilltop, Bouquet arranged a flour bag fort to protect his wounded. The locals almost encircled the British and left an opening in the back. They hoped that if they pressured the British enough, the British would panic and flee and then the heavily encumbered redcoats could easily be slaughtered by them.

Bouquet had studied Indian tactics and knew about their use of ambushes to lure an enraged enemy into a pursuit -- into a bigger ambush. He planned to use their tactics against them.

Instead Bouquet arrange two light companies in the front and the line companies on the flank. Two more light companies and the American riflemen were formed into a line along the flank of the hill. On the next day when the fighting renewed, the two light companies in the front fell back as if in panic. The locals sensing a British collapsed charged the collapsing center. Then the surprise. The two retreating companies wheeled about, fired and charged. At that moment the hidden light companies and Americans swept one flank of the hill, adding to the surprise and driving off the locals.

Bouquet gathered his men and marched to Fort Pitt. While some British historians claim that Bushy Run demonstrated the redcoats mastery of forest warfare, this ignores Bouquet's order that should they be attacked again, that it was sauve qui puet! and each man was to make his best way to Fort Pitt. Secondly, James Smith (memoirs published as Scoougwa (sp)) who was a former captive of the locals opined that but for the presence of the long knives (American riflemen), the attack would not have been successful. Anyway, Bouquet became a hero among the Colonists. In 1764 he led a punitive expedition that resulted in a peace treaty and the return of the prisoners (many of whom had been adopted by the locals).

Bouquet's next assignment was in Florida where he died of malaria (1765). The family owned inn, The Negro's Head/Le Negre Tete, still stands in Switzerland. I wonder if it's a play on the dark chocolate covered marshmallow treat.

Bushy Run Battlefield is a PA State Park and is located near several other historic places worth visiting. Braddock's Grave and Road, the Compass Inn, Jumonville Glen (Where Washington attacked a French party that was going east for parlay and ignited the Seven Years or French and Indian War) and Fort Necessity are all nearby.

Anyway, yesterday I found a link to an out of print book (unless it's print on demand by now) on Bouquet. Here is it:

https://archive.org/stream/colhenryb...tuoft_djvu.txt

[4V50 Gary]

Maj. James Hayes was battalion commander of the Second Battalion, 317th Infantry Regiment, 80th Infantry Division and as part of Patton's Third Army, were liberating France. He was touring his battalion and sat down with one of his company commanders.

I had visited Bob Moye and during the vist the mail carrier delivered his mail. His wife had sent him some Hershey Bars and he offered me one. As we sat on the edge of his foxhole discussing the situation and eating our Hershey Bars a rather sad sack type of individual came strolling along the line probably looking for a latrine. The sad sacked looked down at me, saw my candy bar, reached down and broke off about half of it, and began to calmly munch away at his haul. Moye was incensed and wanted to chew the soldier out but I calmed him down. Then Moye said to the soldier, "Do you know who we are?" The soldier seemed confused for a moment, then he brightened up and said, "No, but I've seen both of you around." He did not know that Moye was his company commander and I was his battalion commander.

[4V50 Gary]

While the 80th Division completed the first phase of its training at Camp Forrest we had a full field inspection by the Corps Commander, Lieutenant (three star) General Lucas. While inspecting the 317th he unerringly stopped at one of 'G' Company's major problems, Pvt. Rutledge. I had reported in the prescribed manner and had the sinking suspicion that he would stop at either Rutledge or one of my other problems like Jason, Mucahey or Frost. As the General stood before Rutledge, Rutledge smiled at the General. The General smiled back and asked Rutledge his name. Rutledge, the friendly farmer, leaned upon his rifle and said, "My name is Rutledge, what's yours?" At that point I hoped the ground would swallow me because I could see myself as the perpetual 1st Lieutenant. The General turned to me with the following comment which engraved itself in my brain. 'Well, Lieutenant, I guess we all have a cross to bear.' This type of understanding coupled with a sense of humor demonstrates leadership of the highest sort.

This and the preceding incident are both from One Hell Of A War about the 317th Infantry Regiment. Very few of the men who were at that camp finished the war with the 317th and most were injured or killed. The writer finished the war as a lt. col.

The book could be read with Battle Hardened with is about Co. H of the Second Battaltion, 317th Infantry.

[4V50 Gary]

From the memoirs of an American Army sergeant in England during WW II.

"Everybody tries for a pass every night these days. As usual, most of us NCO do wihtout and let the boys have them. We only get so many for the outfit and we know the ropes too well to have to have a pass to go out. All we do is tell the guard we're going and when we'll be back. Only risk is very slight of running into some eager beaver MP who wants to check your pass, or getting fouled up some way & being late for bedcheck.

"But Hinkel & I went in togehter last night & for once thought our luck had run out. Both of us were well in our cups & for some reason Hinkel went crazy wild. we came out of the pub to head back for camp & he got to singing & yelling & kicking things over & stopping civilians & shouting at them & I couldn't do a damn thing with him.

"I saw a squad of MPs down the street & knew we were in trouble if Hinkel didn't quiet down. They're usually pretty good & don't really want to haul you in but if you're drunk and disorderly they have to. But I've used a bold front with them before & had it work, so even though we didn't have [passes & if they checked we'd be in trouble, I decided it was better to to risk it than to go on trying to quiet Hinkel down. I already wasn't getting anywhere with that.

"I took him by the arm and marched him down to them, told them we'd both had too much to drink, were about to be late, and we'd appreciate it if they run us out of camp. They didn't ask to see our passes. But durned if I'm not going to take a muzzle along for Hinkel next time."

[4V50 Gary]

There was a redlight district in Joplin that was off limits. Well, I never in my life made use of a redlight district & wasn't there for the purpose then. But 'off limits' is a natural invitation to see what it's all about. I spotted two MPs about the same time they spotted me. I was in trouble & knew it & having nothing to lose walked over to them, told them I was lost & would appreciate it if they could get me back to the main part of town. They checked my pass (I had one that night) & drove me back to main street. I've used it half a dozen times since & found that if you're polite, if you're handling your liqour well, they'll cooperate.

[4V50 Gary]

During the initial stages of the Battle of the Bulge, there was panic among the Americans as to english speaking German paratroopers who were dressed in American clothes. One thing the Germans did was get PoWs to disrobe on the pretext of getting a shower (they did) and clean clothes. Well, they GI PoWs got rags for clothes and the Germans cleaned their uniforms for their paratroopers and infiltrators. Hence nervous Americans manning the roadblocks would ask questions that only an American would know. "Who won the World Series in xxxx?" "What was XYZ's batting average?" "What's the capitol of Iowa?"

Anyway, the engineers of the 291st Eng. Co. were manning one such roadblock. The rest of the guys were sitting by a fireplace at the nearby chateau staying warm. The guys manning the roadblock stopped a truck driven by a Negro soldier and challenged him for the password. The soldier replied,

"Now, boys, you all know ain't no colored boys in Hitler's army. I bound to be a genuwine American."

Infallible logic. He passed without trouble.

Note: I've seen pictures of blacks in German uniform but can't remember the circumstances under which they were recruited? Black Arabs? I know Luftwaffe ace Jochaim Marselles had a South African friend (PoW) with whom he played chess. When JG27 left Africa, they took him with them. Post-war he was tried and executed.

[tangolima]

Free Arabian Legion. https://allthatsinteresting.com/free-arabian-legion

There were also tie between the Chinese and the German during the time. There were chinese officers sent to Germany for training. They wore the nazi uniforms. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sino...6%E2%80%931941)

-TL

Sent from my SM-N960U using Tapatalk

[4V50 Gary]

While pulled from the front line for rest & recuperation, a young subaltern resented that they (Canadians) could not unlike the Germans or American fraternize with the locals and relax. Food & drink (and perhaps willing female companionship). Instead, they had visits from officials.

In the circumstances, it was inevitable that we would being to feel a festering contempt for the pompous paperpushers of our behind-the-line bureaucracy, whose only discernable reason for existence seemed to be to make our lives a trial.

One such was a pasty-faced, pot-bellied major from some arcane financial seciton who appeared every time we withdrew into reserve, but never came near when we were within artillery range of the enemy. He pursued us with dogged tenacity through Sicily and Italy for six months, demanding that we rectifiy a discrepancy in the officers' mess accounts amounting to the horrendous sum of three pounds, nine shillings and six pence. He would not accept my explanation (I was mess secretary during much of this period) that my predecessor had been blown to bits together with the account books and the mess funds themselves when a landmine went off beneath his truck.

"That just won't do - won't do at all," the major huffed.

"He should have been blown up by a two-ton bomb instead?" I asked innocently.

The major glared angrily. '"There should have been copies of the mess accounts kept in a safe place. The missing monies must be accounted for or you will be held personally answerable to the auditor-general!"

He demanded that I institute a full-scale Court of Inquiry to trace the missing funds. What I acutally did was lead him a merry chase for months, until I got so sick of his face that I collected the equvialent of the missing sum in captured German marks and sent it off to him. In due course I received his official receipt, properly stamped and signed, in quintuplicate.

[4V50 Gary]

Canadian Subaltern Farley Mowat was told to find a hotel room in London. Emerging from a subway into the blacked out streets he was promptly lost.

Completely adrift I stumbed into the gutters, bounced off passer-bys and fearfully slithered away from the growls of unseen vehicles. I no longer felt in the least like the intrepid messenger indomitably pursuing his vital mission. I felt lost and lonely. At one point I ploughed into the arms of a large, invisible person who must have been an Aussie because he responded with an awesome string of obscenities to my piteous plea for help in finding a hotel. "If I knew where the essing, farking pussings sots of canting hell these bugging, slicking Limey slucks hid their flagging, mucking hotels, I'd slewing well have me one, mate!" With which he flung me from him and vanished.

Eventually I ran into that bastion of English sanity, and safety, a bobby. I recognized him as such because he carried a blue-hooded flashlight in whose unearthly glow I caught a glimpse of many brass buttons.

"Oh, constable!" I cried with a hearfelt relief. "Please, can you possibly help me find a hotel?"

Sterling fellows, the London bobbies! This one grunted something unintelligble, gripped my arm with a ham-like hand and propelled me off into the stygian night. Five minutes later he trust me through a set of blacked-out swinging doors into a brilliantly lit hotel rotunda unthinkable magnificience. When my eyeshad somewhat adjusted to the glitter, I turned to thank him...and beheld upon his navy-blue sleeve one thick and two think gold strips of a vice-admiral of the fleet.

"This suit you, Canada?" he asked with a broad grin on his rubicund face. "Best dosshouse in town. Excuse me now. Must jolly well get back on my beat."

[4V50 Gary]

Piccolo of Arfcom fame & best known for Tokie the seeing-eye-cat saga shared this:

When I got out of army basic my mother thought an Air Force colonel was a skycap.

The colonel picked up my bag, quietly whispered "Not one word!" to me and hauled my duffel bag all the way to the car.

I was one shaken up private!

I shared Pic's story with my cousin who looked like a kid when she was a cadet in the Air Force Academy. She told me:

When I went to Disneyland as an Air Force Academy cadet in uniform, a stranger assumed I worked there and wanted to know where the bathroom was.

She's retired now (full bird colonel) and still looks like a twenty-something.

[4V50 Gary]

Rosie, a tomato picker of Mexican descent caught the eye Private E. Smitty who asked her out to the opening of the New Moon Bar and Grill of Brawley, California. It was the bar's opening day and it was decorated with streamers, balloons and had party favors. Best of all, opening drinks were on the house. Anticipating a festive time at the opening, they went with high expectation for a night of dancing and partying.

But the New Moon Bar & Grill burned down on opening night.

"Our boys on the 'Port Watch' dragged back into Camp. They had all witnessed the fire and told us the ruin was complete. I noticed Smitty was one of the few not expressing regret of the demise of the New Moon Bar and Grill. I asked Smitty, 'You don't seem to share the sorrow over the New Moon loss?' Smitty seemed hesitant but replied, 'That bartender told me to 'get that s**** b*tch out of here and across the tracks where she belonged.' I left but before going I threw a match into the waste paper basket of the head (toilet.)' Smitty cracked a broad smile and said,'He didn't have to say that. I like Rosie and he really hurt her.' After this confession I always paid particular attention when Smitty appeared to be getting upset."

The author was to witness another of Smitty's git even event later.

[4V50 Gary]

The other Smitty story:

"My friend E. L. Smith (of New Moon's fire fame) and I were involved in building crates and frames for shipping desks, gun sight and other items that had to be carefully protected in transit.

Smithy was placing 2x4's around a field desk. He seemed to be having difficult driving nails into the very hard lumber.

When out of nowhere, an irtate Major grabbed Smithy's hammer and snapped, 'What kind of a dumb son of a bitch can't use a hammer properly?' Smithy and I stood back as the Major proved he could wield a hammer. As he was putting on his exhibition of hammer proficinecy, I felt I should have told the Major that Private Smith did not take criticism very well. As he returned the hammer to Smithy, he stated the desk being crated was his and that it was 'an old English Army field desk used by many members of his family.' He stated it had to be crated to assure it did not move while in shipment.

The Major departed as quickly as he appeared. I saw in Smithy's eyes that look I saw when he returned from the New Moon's Bar and Grill's demise.

Smithy now entered into his work as a man possessed. He kept repeating the Major's last words, 'not move while in shipment.' He would lay a 2x4 across the 'old english army field desk' then drive a six inch spike trough the 2x4 into the mahogany top of the field desk. After appying six to eight spikes into the desktop, he administered a like number to each side and the bottom, continuing his chant, 'no movement in shipment.'

As we left for lunch, Smithy assured me that the desk would not move in transit. He reveled in the fact 'there are times when one gets a great deal of satisfaction in a job well done.'

I am certain the Major's questioning Smithy's family lineage drove Smithy's enthusiasm."

From Still a PFC by Eugene Peterson. It's a hilarious book. I suspect the Major was a New England blue blood used to mistreating the little fish.

[4V50 Gary]

After returning from Normandy, the 101 was being rebuilt and medals were awarded to paratroopers who distinguished themselves. Among one was Private Lee Rogers from Aberdeen, Washington. Eisenhower was present to present the medals.

While only a private, Rogers found himself and other survivors pinned down. All their non-coms and officers had been killed or wounded leaving them leaderless. Rogers rose to the occasion, organized the men around him and destroyed a machinegun. Afterward they slew a score of fallschirmjagers. Ike pinned the medal on Rogers and shook his hand. Afterward an impressed Ike turned to 101 Div. Commander Gen. Taylor and asked if he, as Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces in Europe could promote Rogers on the spot. Taylor didn't object and so Rogers marched off the parade ground as a corporal.

Corporal Rogers celebrated by going AWOL and went to London town where he celebrated by quaffing pints of beer. He was picked up by the MPs and returned to camp drunk. Lt. Col. Charles Chase took one sniff and demoted Rogers on the spot back to private. When Col. Sink who commanded the 506 PIR learned of it, he was shocked. "You can't bust Ike's own corporal!" Chase stood his ground and Rogers remained a private.

Gen. Taylor later informed Ike about his corporal. Ike turned red and laughing, promised Taylor never to intercede for a promotion on behalf of a soldier.

Rogers jumped in Holland and again demonstrated his prowess on the battlefield and became a sergeant. This time he kept his stripes.

[4V50 Gary]

[O]ne of our men on guard duty, simply as a joke, took his rifle and dragged his rifle butt rapidly along the outside of the corrugated metal surface of the Nissen hut in which our company cooks were sleeping. Inside the hut it must have sounded like machine gun fire. The door burst open and all the cooks in their 'long johns' came running out into the cold wet night.

[4V50 Gary]

"....Mr. Pollack, my representative and sole importer of my products into England, regularly spent his holidays there. On his way there he visited me to take holiday money from his commission account. He is Jewish and emigrated to England in 1938. Since he had not yet been naturalized whent he war broke out he was put into an internment camp as an enemy German. He was confined there during the entire war, and when the war ended he was transported to an internment camp in Germany to be denazified."

What irony and stupidity. Taken from page 89 of Gods of War by Hans Woltersdorf.