SHADOW OF WAR

Gisborne Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20083, 1 November 1939, Page 9

SHADOW OF WAR

LONDON MUST LAUGH

STORIES OF THE EVACUES

WHERE THE ARTISTS GO

PERSONALITIES REVIEWED

Under the shadow of war, Londoners continue to find scope for the sense of humour which many foreign nations —and particularly the Germans—fail completely to appreciate. Recently a prominent New Zealander, | the Hon. William Perry, remarked ' that in the Great War the cartoons of Bruce Bairnsfather were worth an army corps to the Allies. To-day the appreciation of a dry style of humour seems just as keen, judging by the comments contained in a letter received by the Herald from Mr. W. * Barrington Miller, by the latest mail I from London.

It was Mr. Miller who introduced to Gisborne readers the joke about the R.A.F. pamphleteer-pilot, who arrived home late from a pamphlet raid, explained his tardiness by stating that things were so quiet over Germany that he went down and pushed his literature tinder the doors! Here is another prize selection of war stories made by the former Gisborne businessman.

A provincial woman whose home sheltered several evacues from London arranged with a neighbour to come in and put the young people to bed while she attended a social function. On her return home, she asked how the neighbour had fared •with her charges. “Oh, they were all very nice, and let me put them to bed without any trouble —except that red-headed one, who argued a long time. But he's safe in there now," was the reply. “The red-headed one," cried the startled householder. "That’s my husband!”

Two Little riccaninnics

Another: Two piccaninnies were included in a group of evacues sent down, from London, and the billeting officer had trouble in finding them a home. He found the colour-bar up in every house he approached, and finally took them to his own home. His wife was charmed with their manners, and deduced that they had come .from a good home of their own. When she undressed them for bed, she noticed, too, that their clothes were fine and beautifully hand-made. But most surprising of all was a note in an envelope found pinned to the petticoat of the little girl. It read: “To the woman who undresses my children to-night, with thanks for looking after them. God bless you." Enclosed was a £SO note! The money is now in the bank, to be used for the children’s food, clothing and schooling. The joke is on the people who turned the little coloured people away In the midst of their own difficulties about the black-outs, Londoners find time to enjoy situations such as that which divides the little town of Pettigo, on the border of the Irish Free State. One half of the town is in Eire, and the other in Northern Ireland. While the latter half observes the black-out regulations, those across the street carry on their normal lives. “It’s the Irish av them," comments an Englishman.

Entertaining the Troops

There is a good deal of strength in the argument offered by the Navy, Army and Air Force Institute official, who claims that world-famous enter-

tamers should be exempt from active service on the grounds that they arc of most value when doing their own jobs for the benefit of the troops, especially if they can raise a hearty laugh. “Make the troops laugh,” is the slogan of the institute, which sponsored 50C shows in the first three weeks of the war, in camps and depots. , „ , On the other hand, Noel Coward actor and playwright, is enjoying a service post well worthy of the author of “Cavalcade,” Mr. Miller writes. He now works in the uniform of a naval officer at the Admiralty, where he is a person of some consequence, with A.D.C’s. ministering to his needs. Mr. Coward’s heart has been on the ocean wave for some time. His association with the fleet began some years ago at Malta, where he was a friend and frequent guest of the late Admiral William Fisher, commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean. For a time he had a post investigating the film tastes of seamen, and later he joined the R.N.V.R. Mr. Coward was in Warsaw, where he lectured to the AngloPolish. Society, and also in Moscow, before he war broke out. Ribbentrop An “Oily Beast”

The dissection of personalities among the enemy has become one of the favourite topics of journalists, who are now allowed to say freely things which for diplomatic reasons they could not say in peacetime. Lord Donegal, writing in the Sunday Dispatch, gives a sketch of Herr von Ribbentrop, Foreign Minister of the Nazi Government. “There are some whose wishful thinking leads them to believe that the whole thing will shortly fizzle out. Hitler is one of them, and I hope that when he finds he is wrong, Ribbentrop will get what has been coming to him for a long time,” he writes. “If there is one thing we hale in this country, it is a slippery customer. And if there was ever an oily little beast, it is certainly Herr von Ribbentrop. He swarmed his way round London as Ambassador of the Reich, and has always made the mistake of thinking that he understood us. Consequently, during his ambassadorship, he was always dropping prize diplomatic bricks that had to be hushed up or glossed over. “Last week the hope of any two people who met to pass the time of the day was that Stalin and his boys would lead Ribbentrop to the edge of a metaphorical cliff and push him over. For sheer dishonesty of dealing. I doubt that there is much between Ribbentrop and the Russians. But fortunately Ribbentrop is a conceited fool into the bargain. So here’s hoping!” After Ribbentrop, a good smile, if not a hearty laugh, is in order. Another evacue story: A small boy living with strangers in the country was quite confident the war could not last ' long. "Why?” asked his hostess. “Well, dad has been called up, and mother always said that he could never keep a job more than a month or two,” was the reply.