Six Inch Men

Observation Post, Volume 1, Issue 31, 18 December 1942, Page 1

Six Inch Men

(By Gnr. Parker.) (Continued ■ from last week.) STARVED TO DEATH. Bert leaned closer and with a confidential aspect said softly.“ Did I ever tell you about the time I was starved to death?’’ He stood back slightly then, to observe the effect of his words and by the incredulous expression on the face of Tony perceived that for. a while, he would be able to bathe himself in a small area of limelight. “Go on,’’ said Tony, with the mental thought that for a may starved to death Bert looked remarkably well fed, why the only place where his battledress fitted at all was a paunch that would have made the lacing of his boots a most difficult if not hazardous performance. “Art a minute,’’ said Bert and with a rapid motion elevated his handle, swallowed twice and planted it on the bar with its gaping mouth crying eloquently for more. Tony, likewise tossed his tot and blinked a little dizzily while , the bartender " did his stuff. Bert planted his foot on the rail, his elbow on the bar and placing his handle within easy reach, spoke thusly. . “Back in ’39, the Army was a grouse show, and being at Foxton’was a darn sight ‘‘grouser,’’ what with leave from five to ten every night, plenty of beer, an steak an’ eggs, an the old gang, all as ' keen as mustard. i I remember the time;’’ he said, “when me an’ old Lobo -went out on the scoot, an’ drank ourselves silly. We got tossed out at seven o’clock and wandered off across country, quite slap happy we was, and singing fit to raise the dead. Lobo had a damn silly idea that he wanted a rooster to take\ back . to' the cooks, and as I was just as silly I said, what about'two. She’s right gunner, he said, and sniffed the air, he could smell chooks miles away. After we had wandered around for a while and bust

through a few hedges and fences, we ran slap bang into a fowl run. . Bert took a long thoughtful pull at his beer, his eyes a bit brighter than before, as though kindling with the sparks of reminisence. '' Anyhow, we opened the door and' sneaked in.’’ Lobo winked- slyly. “Ever seen this one he said.” He picked up a short stick, an I followed him, as he oiled into the fowl house. The place was warm and ranking with a foul 'smell. ’ ’

He! He! Get the —fowl smell. Tony opened his eyes and gave a sickly grin. . ' ‘‘Well after we got used . ter th’ dark, ” Bert went on,' “ Lobo goes up to a cackler, all fluffed up and snoozing on its perch and holds the stick in front of it, just near; its legs, and then started to move the stick slowly forward, until he was touching the blooming hen, and strike me pink if the darn thing didn’t climb on to the piece of tree! Sorta walked in its sleep it did, and carried on with its shuteye as calm as you like. . Lobo gives a chuckle and started moving out, with the cackler on its new perch in front of him, and rocking slow like. We got into the yard again, an’ Lobo has to' step into a bucket. It was just like a battery openingfire. There was crashes and squawks and cackles an’ the air was thick with feathers, then a darn dawg starts barking and . Lobo rushes. clean through the wire netting with me after him, an’ off we go again larruping across country. Lobo gives a yell and vanishes, an’ I pulls up on the" edge of a blinking ditch and judging from the smell, it must have been a sewer. Lobo crawled out the other side, and boy did he talk long and loud and when he saw me cackling at him he fairly blew up. (To Be Continued Next Week.)