CHRISTMAS 1940

Posted by Admin on Tuesday, 7th April 2009, 00:00

’Twas a week before Christmas in an
old public-house, where some natives
of Northwood had started to grouse
about the meat ration, and how they
could not give a real party with
what they had got.
“A party? No problem.” A very low voice
interrupted their grief. “A nice bit of
sirloin – a ham – what’s your choice?”
“You’re joking?” Their faces expressed
disbelief.
“My pal’s in the cookhouse.” An
eloquent thumb indicated the camp-site
from which he had come.
“But what if he’s caught and put on
a charge?” In civilian minds the
danger loomed large.
“Forget it.” The sergeant their caution
rejected. “Taff’d flog a whole NAAFI
and go undetected. And the troops
won’t go short. By the way things
are planned, there’s more than enough
of the best grub on hand.”
“How much?” From their pockets their
wallets have slid.
“As a favour to you gents, a joint
for two quid.”
I was not one who dealt with that
black-marketeer, but we did have
a ham for Christmas that year!

T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.

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