British pensioners are gearing up for this weekend’s festival of remembrance by remembering their contrived war stories.
Many, like 78 year old Justin Case, spent a great deal of the war throwing up, pooing into a nappy and sucking their mother’s nipples. However, they’re not letting this stop them pretending they were on the front lines.
Justin told us, “I was involved in the D-Day landings. I was in one of the first waves on Sword beach. I remember the boat got to the beach and there were machine gun bullets everywhere. We stormed onto the beach but we were pinned down by machine gun fire. I realised I had to do something so I got a bunch of us together and led an assault of all of the machine gun nests in our way. Once they were clear we got inland. I was told I had to go and find a Private called Private Ryan by my Captain.”
84 year old Bingo Wings told us, “I was in 56 squadron during the Battle of Britain. We would arrive at the dispersal hut at 5:30 am. We’d sit there until we were scrambled. We’d often read or just play chess waiting. I remember once I beat Douglas Bader at back gammon and he threw his hat at me.
“A ringing bell would be the signal for us to scramble. We’d all take off and intercept the Jerry’s. I’d normally bag a couple then, after giving Jerry a good old kicking we’d head for home. We’d always go via Dover and do victory rolls over the white cliffs. Then, we’d land and at the end of the day all pile into a car and go to the pub. We’d sing “We’ll meet again” for a few hours and drink 17 pints of beer then drive back to the base. We’d do it all again the next day. ”
75 year old Stan Still said, “I was a navigator in bombers and flew 150 raids. I remember our skipper for one tour was a man called Bill Board. Often I’d look up and see his drug addled features illuminated by the glow of his instruments. He wasn’t a drug addict. We all were given Benzedrine in those days.
“One day, Bill Board asked if I wanted to join him on a special squadron. It turned out it was the Dambusters squadron. I met Richard Todd and he told us we needed to practice low level flying over Derbyshire. There was a chicken farmer who kept complaining to the air ministry. Anyway we had a good trip on that one. We scored a direct hit on one of the dams and caused loads of damage.
“After that I and Bill were posted to 633 squadron. We were sent on many dangerous meetings. One day we landed and there was Winston Churchill waving at us from a jeep. Nigel Farage was with him. I remember Nigel would often be there to wave us off and welcome us home. He’d be stood there with a pint in his hand and a cigarette on the go. It gave us great heart to see him.”
It’s not just the Second World War that people are contriving. 55 year old Drew Peacock told us, “I was in the RAF during the Falklands war. I was a fire man based at RAF Binbrook. Every night I’d come home and watch the war on TV. That’s why I now have the right to tell complete strangers they’re disrespecting people like me who fought in the Falklands war if they’re not wearing a poppy.”
Not everyone’s stories are so contrived though. 87 year old Flusen Speck said, “In 1945 I was a member of the Hitler youth. There was me and 3 friends in Berlin having spent a month on the run trying to avoid the Red Army. A German army lieutenant gave us a Raketenpanzerbüchse anti-tank weapon between us. We were shown how to fire it and told to attack the first tank we saw.
“We left the ruin of the building we were in with our Raketenpanzerbüchse. Within 2 hours we saw a Soviet tank advancing into the city alone. My friend Peter told me to load the Raketenpanzerbüchse. I did this and Peter aimed it at the tank and fired. Nobody had told us that there were weak points on the armour of the tank that you had to aim for. The shell bounced off the tank. The tank stopped and its turret turned and aimed directly at us. I dove out of the way and was thrown against a wall and was knocked unconscious. When I came to the tank had gone and I could see these trousers hanging from a telegraph wire. It turned out they were actually what was left of Peter.
“Once I came to I decided I’d had enough of being in the army and headed west. A few days later I was picked up by an American patrol and sent to a P.O.W. camp. I never saw my friends again.”
If you have a contrived war story you’d like to share the Rochdale Herald would love to hear from you.
