“Your ’ands is right, and your ’eads is right, but you haven’t got that look of regret you ought to ’ave.”
A squad of rookies, composed of various nationalities, mostly Italian, on being given the command “mark time!” all executed the command with the exception of one small dark-skinned son of Naples.
The sergeant asked him why he did not execute the movement and he replied:
“Why not?” sharply demanded the sergeant.
“Cause-a we walk-a like deuce and don’t-a get-a no place!”
Before entering the Army this rookie was a peaceful lad, but rising at 5:15 in the morning went against his principles. On this particular morning, as he fell in line by the light of the moon, his bunkie heard him mutter:
“It’s clear to me now. Why didn’t I think of that long ago?”
Bunkie (puzzled)—“What’s clear to you now?”
Rookie—“The reason why all great battles begin at daybreak.”
Rookie—“Because, when men have to get up that time, they feel so much like fighting.”
Bess: “That’s Mrs. Grabbit—she’s a great war-worker.”
Bess: “Yes; she’s married four of her daughters to soldiers.”
Sandy M’Tavish was a highly-skilled workman in a new aeroplane factory. It happened one day that he was asked if he would care to accompany the works aviator on one of his trial flights in a machine. Sandy, after some hesitation, agreed to do so.
During the flight the aviator asked how he was enjoying the trip.
“To tell the truth,” answered the Scot, “I wad rather be on the groun’.”
“Tut, tut,” replied the flying man. “I’m just thinking of looping the loop.”
“For heaven’s sake don’t dae that!” yelled the now very serious M’Tavish. “I’ve some siller in my vest pocket, an’ I micht lose it.”
Brown was transferred to another unit his adjutant wrote to the adjutant of the new regiment saying: “We are sending you Brown. He is a nice boy, but he has a shocking bad habit of betting on every conceivable subject. Try and choke him off.”
Brown arrived. At mess on the first night he sat next the colonel and, turning the conversation on India, made the astounding assertion that every white man who went there developed a curious green patch between the shoulder-blades. This rubbish annoyed the colonel. He said that he certainly had no green patch on his back. Brown, with all deference, offered to bet him ten pounds that he had! The bet was accepted by the indignant officer, and in the ante-room afterwards he pulled off his shirt. There was no patch. Brown apologized and paid up. Next day the adjutant wrote to Brown’s former regiment: “Brown turned up. * * * I think we have choked him off. Last night he bet the colonel, etc. * * * and lost.”