COMPETITION

Jingo jingle

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1523 you were asked for an imaginary German wartime lyric, in translation, to match our 'We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line . . .'

I said 'imaginary' because of course Goebbels did organise a special band called Charlie and his Orchestra whose job it was to broadcast from the Ministry of Propaganda popular tunes with added anti- Allied lyrics. Charlie himself (Karl Schwedler) used to try to lower our morale with such gems as:

`Frankie, Frankie, give me your answer, do, I'm half crazy waiting for news from you. Britannia won't have a carriage For the Anglo-American marriage If you don't send on the Lease-and-Lend A shipload of dollars, too.'

There were stirring offerings from June F. Langfield, George Moor, Robert Baird, 0. Smith, Simon Townley and Nigel Blew- rell (whose last verse was tremendous). The winners were hard to pick, and I plumped for variety. Those printed below get f15 each, and the bonus bottle of White Horse Whisky, presented by United Distil- lers Group, goes to E. 0. Parrott for the most verisimilitudinous entry.

We will get you in the guts, Johnnie Bull, So stuff your ifs and buts, Johnnie Bull, You'll be heiling your new Filhrer And feeling so much purer — And look out for your nuts, Johnnie Bull.

We're going to cut your throat, Johnnie Bull,• We're catching the first boat, Johnnie Bull, There's a lot you'll have to learn As you watch your cities burn, For your Channel's not a moat, Johnnie Bull.

You're a stinking Commie Red, Johnnie Bull, So we aim to shoot you dead, Johnnie Bull, So hand over all your booze,

Your money and your Jews, Or we'll fill you full of lead, Johnnie Bull.

(E. 0. Parrott)

We've got sand in all our passages and portholes, Our little men are wilting from the heat; The sauerkraut's like cotton and the sausages are rotten And the cockroaches are dining off our feet.

The only thing that's green here is the water, And buzzards are assembling in the sky, But we'll all be right as rain when tonight we hear the strain Of the Obergruppenfiihrer's lullaby.

Yes, no matter where the bunker-wallahs send us, No matter that they never tell us why, We never mind the pain, if we only hear the strain Of the Obergruppenfiihrer's lullaby.

(Noel Petty) Cheltenham Spa, Cheltenham Spa, See what we do in Cheltenham Spa!

Refrain: See what we do! Tickety Boo!

See what we do in Cheltenham Spa!

The members' bar, the members' bar, See what we do in the members' bar, The members' bar in Cheltenham Spa, See what we do in Cheltenham Spa! See what we do with Winnie's cigar, Winnie's cigar and a Rolls-Royce car, A Rolls-Royce car and a pot of char, A pot of char in the members' bar, The members' bar in Cheltenham Spa, See what we do in Cheltenham Spa!

(Keith Norman) We'll march against Great Britain, We'll sail across the sea.

We'll smash their flanks with our Panzer tanks, And piss in the Englishman's tea!

We'll scale the cliffs of Dover With grapple, rope and spar. Oh it's up the ladder and empty your bladder Right into the Englishman's char!

The English race is feeble, And English tea is weak. So fill each cup completely up With a healthy German leak!

And when the war is over We'll have a jamboree For the German guys who opened their flies And pissed in the Englishman's tea!

(Basil Ransome-Davies)

When we get down London way And we'll be there come what may We'll have them all

Doing the Hamburg Walk. Heil!

There'll be jackboots everywhere From Whitehall to Leicester Square And down The Mall Doing the Hamburg Walk. Heil!

Maybe it won't be easy, Some of them may turn queasy, But when they learn to do it They'll warm . . . to it.

Every fraulein, every frau Will be doing it (and how!).

We'll have a ball Doing the Hamburg Walk. Heil!

(J. J. Webster)