How Britain Kept Calm and Carried On by Anton Rippon

at Cleave AA camp near Bude. The warrant officers and sergeants were accommodated in huts with separate rooms, each of which was shared by two men. One night
when two of the sergeants were in the mess bar, a sheep, which had been grazing nearby, was caught and put into their room. The electric lamp was removed and the door closed. Later that night, the
sergeants, having consumed a few beers, returned to their room. You can imagine the rumpus. The sheep was running around the room trying to get out, and neither of the sergeants had a clue what was
happening.
    W. Norris, Watford
    It was 1941 and I was serving ‘somewhere in the south of England’. Our day began with a forty-mile route march. It was customary, as I remember, to have a five-
     or ten-minute break after every hour. On our first stop the first priority was to relieve ourselves. Over the wall we leapt and into the woods. Imagine our surprise when the young saplings,
     plus a number of small bushes, began to move in all directions. We had disturbed a bunch of soldiers on manoeuvres. They were certainly perfectly camouflaged!
    F. G. Jones, Shotton, Deeside
    A comrade of mine related a tale of when he was in the Royal Artillery. He had been on an AA gun site. One day they were inspected by a general and the gunner had been detailed
to stand by the Lewis gun, in a sandbagged pit. The general made his way around the site, having a word here and there. When he got to the gunner, he exchanged small talk. He asked him how long he
had been in the army and then his attention turned to his training.
    ‘If you were to see a German plane coming in low to attack this site, would you open fire on your own, or wait for the order?’
    ‘Neither,’ said the gunner, ‘I’d get laid down at the back of the sandbags because I’ve got no ammunition!’
    Poor Gunner Hawkins spent the next two months beside that gun!
    Mr A. S. Cobb, Hull
    A young junior officer was made orderly officer for the day. Making his inspection, he went to the cookhouse to inspect the cooking. Looking into one pan he noticed that it
     was boiling around the edges, but not in the middle. He asked the cook to explain this.
    ‘That bit’s for the sentries, sir. We always serve them first!’
    MR S.E. SMITH, ESSEX
    Some of my best times in the army happened while stationed in the Orkneys. To fill in time we had various half-hour lectures, one concerning ‘Demob’. Various
conditions as to how, and when, we might be demobbed, were discussed – things like length of service, overseas duty, war wounds, married men with dependents etc. But the climax came when one
cockney voice piped up from the rear: ‘As long as they don’t do it in bleedin’ alphabetical order!’
    His name, you see, was Gunner Tom Zelkin!
    Clifford Bailey, Dudley

    Walking down the main street of my hometown while on leave, I approached a crossroads and spotted a large car approaching with the Duke of Kent inside. Being in uniform, and
     with my rifle slung over my shoulder, I wasn’t sure what kind of salute to give and had precious little time to make my mind up. I attempted to give a butt salute. Wearing heavy army
     boots didn’t help. I tried to halt at the kerb, slipped on my back and up in the air went my rifle, missing the royal car by inches. What a laugh His Highness must have had. And what a
     scramble I made!
    F. G. Jones, Shotton, Deeside
    The place was Blackdown training camp. The year was 1940. Our squad was being trained as gunners or drivers in the Royal Artillery. One day in the gym we had to climb ropes,
tumble on mats and jump over the vaulting horse. One cockney, named Joe Brown, was hopeless at PT, so each time he had to jump the vaulting horse he would pretend to tie up his shoelaces and miss
his turn. Eventually, the sergeant spotted this and yelled: ‘Hey, you! Over the horse!’
    Joe replied: ‘I don’t mind being a gunner, don’t mind being a driver, but I ain’t going to be a bleeding acrobat