You'd have jumped out of your Spitfire quick enough if it was on fire!
The Firebird was a fairy tale... this is a.... um....this is a.....errr.
I have no idea what it is!
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Wraggles To The Rescue!
- Thread starter Wragg
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The Firebird was a fairy tale... this is a.... um....this is a.....errr.
I have no idea what it is!
RacingRodent
Consul
You'd have jumped out of your Spitfire quick enough if it was on fire!
The Firebird was a fairy tale... this is a.... um....this is a.....errr.
I have no idea what it is!
A cracking yarn is what, tally ho chaps and last one to save a crucified girlie gets cold baked beans for supper!
Don't tell him that, RR, he'll be expecting a pretty air hostess standing by the door wishing him a pleasant onward trip!But I am also the only one to recall that the Lysander is designed to land behind enemy lines
View attachment 436588
Can you get a full sized premium French timber cross onto a Lysander, d'you reckon?
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Is that all you think of me?
A long time since Pp scored any of dem old eritsAnd me!
Aristotle once said that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Sadly, in this case, Pp suspects that the sum is of a nett negative nature
.
RacingRodent
Consul
Can you get a full sized premium French timber cross onto a Lysander, d'you reckon?
Well if it is the same size as the one in Repertor's excellent image we might need to trim it down to a tau cross...or we could just do as she herself suggested and bring some tools to take care of those Nazi nails.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
LittleSiss
Sorceress
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LittleSiss
Sorceress
We all have "identity crisis' "!!!!!
BTW!
Yes! Most times ... we do know!!!!
Just saying!
Und diese auch!
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LittleSiss
Sorceress
Stelar comment!View attachment 436137 I meant that they each get five demerits !!! ...
View attachment 436138 not that the idiots should try to divide five between the three of them
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Looking forward or is it back???
To more!
Will we see .................
A fair haired ... again?
Fan out and be careful!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Is that all you think of me?
Well I, for one, have complete faith in the mission. Just make sure that you check your parachutes before jumping.And me!
Oh dear. Well, it looks like another night at Stalag 13 for me then.
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LittleSiss
Sorceress
Here here well spoken Bruce.
I note that the clip stopped short of the Philosphers Song, a serious deficiency which I will fix here!
byw Thanks Wragg for making me a super efficient Aussie pilot
Now it's up to you.
Toodle pip and give Jerry what for old boy!
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Better check Bruce in the right hand seat. He has become most addicted to fine cask ale and is too often in a similar state to those philosophers.Here here well spoken Bruce.
I note that the clip stopped short of the Philosphers Song, a serious deficiency which I will fix here!
byw Thanks Wragg for making me a super efficient Aussie pilot
Now it's up to you.
Toodle pip and give Jerry what for old boy!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
I thought Australia was a myth?byw Thanks Wragg for making me a super efficient Aussie pilot
Now it's up to you.
Toodle pip and give Jerry what for old boy!
I read in another thread!
Oh, I understand! They want to make Hitler think Australia is not a myth and that an enormous, super efficient Australian army is coming up to deal with him.
Better check Bruce in the right hand seat. He has become most addicted to fine cask ale and is too often in a similar state to those philosophers.
They said to me that old Pp
Had fine cask ale discovered
Phlebas flew quite straight and true
Although completely lathered
Jollyrei, on this dark day
Had met some German chaps
So Wraggles' crew had nowt to do -
They'd all had too much schnapps!
Thanks to Phlebas’ expertise, the four parachutists landed within yards of one another in a field. Wraggles crouched, listening intently for any sound that their arrival had been noted by the enemy. Silence, apart from the mournful tones of an owl in a nearby copse. Satisfied, he straightened up and gathered his parachute.
“What do we do now?” asked Windar, coming to join him.
“We need to get over to that copse and have a chat with that owl,” replied Wraggles, laconically.
Barb and Slave joined them, and Wraggles led them across the field in the direction of the owl.
“I know a girl, had a fruitful pubescence,” remarked Wraggles.
“I know her too, I love her tumescence,” replied the owl, which resolved itself into human form in the darkness, accompanied by three others.
“You must be the Racing Rodent?”
“Squadron Leader Wragglesworth?”
“Wraggles, please! Allow me to introduce Ginger Windar, Algy Slave, and Barb Worralson.”
“So, this is Repertor, Madiosi, and this is Loxuru.”
There was much shaking of hands, as though they were at a party rather than in enemy territory bristling with homicidal SS troops. So it wasn’t long before Racing Rodent interrupted the socialisation.
"Come!”
He led them, in silence, a distance of about half a mile to a farmhouse. Once inside, behind the blackouts, he lit some candles. “Thessela! Our guests have arrived!”
A young woman emerged from the kitchen and greeted them as though guests arriving at the dead of night were the most natural thing in the world. Soon hunks of bread, vegetable soup, and black coffee were served to all.
Barb was impatient. “Jolly nice nosh, and all that, and please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but we need to get poor Messaline off her cross! It’s frightfully cold out there, you know!” She got up, and headed towards the door.
“Please sit down, Miss.” Loxuru looked alarmed. “If you approach those guards, in the dark, they will shoot you without asking questions.”
“Not me! They wouldn’t dare!”
“No?” Madiosi looked her up and down. “I suppose they might crucify you as well. If you’re lucky.”
For a long moment Wraggles found himself wondering what Barb would look like on a cross.
“Are you listening to me?” Clearly Repertor had asked him something and he’d missed it.
“Sorry, Repertor, my mind was, er, elsewhere!” he replied, embarrassed.
“For God’s sake man, concentrate! I asked you if you spoke German?”
“Ein bier, bitte. That’s about it, I’m afraid. “
Neither Slave nor Windar could offer any further linguistic ability, at least in the Teutonic languages.
“Right, well then,” concluded RR, “ you’d better leave the talking to us. Put these on.”
“SS uniforms? Us?” Windar was incredulous.
“Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once.” RR replied, slightly condescendingly. “Miss Messaline has six SS guards. They are due to be relieved at midnight. We will intercept the relief group, dispose of them, and become the group ourselves. As soon as the others have gone, we can rescue Messaline. Simple.”
“Simple?” repeated Wraggles. “What about Jollyrei?”
“And where’s my uniform?” demanded Barb.
“You’re not coming. There are no women in the SS. You stay here with Thessela. And as for Jollyrei,” Loxuru looked blank. “We haven’t quite figured out a plan, yet. But I’m sure we’ll think of something!”
Barb looked as though she was thinking of quite a lot.
“What do we do now?” asked Windar, coming to join him.
“We need to get over to that copse and have a chat with that owl,” replied Wraggles, laconically.
Barb and Slave joined them, and Wraggles led them across the field in the direction of the owl.
“I know a girl, had a fruitful pubescence,” remarked Wraggles.
“I know her too, I love her tumescence,” replied the owl, which resolved itself into human form in the darkness, accompanied by three others.
“You must be the Racing Rodent?”
“Squadron Leader Wragglesworth?”
“Wraggles, please! Allow me to introduce Ginger Windar, Algy Slave, and Barb Worralson.”
“So, this is Repertor, Madiosi, and this is Loxuru.”
There was much shaking of hands, as though they were at a party rather than in enemy territory bristling with homicidal SS troops. So it wasn’t long before Racing Rodent interrupted the socialisation.
"Come!”
He led them, in silence, a distance of about half a mile to a farmhouse. Once inside, behind the blackouts, he lit some candles. “Thessela! Our guests have arrived!”
A young woman emerged from the kitchen and greeted them as though guests arriving at the dead of night were the most natural thing in the world. Soon hunks of bread, vegetable soup, and black coffee were served to all.
Barb was impatient. “Jolly nice nosh, and all that, and please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but we need to get poor Messaline off her cross! It’s frightfully cold out there, you know!” She got up, and headed towards the door.
“Please sit down, Miss.” Loxuru looked alarmed. “If you approach those guards, in the dark, they will shoot you without asking questions.”
“Not me! They wouldn’t dare!”
“No?” Madiosi looked her up and down. “I suppose they might crucify you as well. If you’re lucky.”
For a long moment Wraggles found himself wondering what Barb would look like on a cross.
“Are you listening to me?” Clearly Repertor had asked him something and he’d missed it.
“Sorry, Repertor, my mind was, er, elsewhere!” he replied, embarrassed.
“For God’s sake man, concentrate! I asked you if you spoke German?”
“Ein bier, bitte. That’s about it, I’m afraid. “
Neither Slave nor Windar could offer any further linguistic ability, at least in the Teutonic languages.
“Right, well then,” concluded RR, “ you’d better leave the talking to us. Put these on.”
“SS uniforms? Us?” Windar was incredulous.
“Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once.” RR replied, slightly condescendingly. “Miss Messaline has six SS guards. They are due to be relieved at midnight. We will intercept the relief group, dispose of them, and become the group ourselves. As soon as the others have gone, we can rescue Messaline. Simple.”
“Simple?” repeated Wraggles. “What about Jollyrei?”
“And where’s my uniform?” demanded Barb.
“You’re not coming. There are no women in the SS. You stay here with Thessela. And as for Jollyrei,” Loxuru looked blank. “We haven’t quite figured out a plan, yet. But I’m sure we’ll think of something!”
Barb looked as though she was thinking of quite a lot.
And there was I expecting to sing as a dirge for at least one of you,
'he landed on the tarmac like a lump of strawberry jam'
Oh, don't worry about me. Getting Messaline off that cross has to be the job now. I'm used to hardship anyway - played full back for Harrow in the old days. I might just take up tunnelling with some of the lads here.
One of the Yanks seems a decent cove with a plan. Have to do something. Being a prisoner is a bit of a bore, and the tea here is appalling. 
I might just take up tunnelling with some of the lads here. One of the Yanks seems a decent cove with a plan. Have to do something. Being a prisoner is a bit of a bore, and the tea here is appalling.