Sgian Dubh Posted September 20, 2002 Share Posted September 20, 2002 The situation: Aftermath of the Yelnia Stare battle. Maj. Borysovych is reporting to Deputy Front commander Lt. Gen. I.V. Boldin. “Comrade Major, report!” “Yes general. As you can see, the battle was a total fiasco. Out troops were all but wiped out and the Germans still hold some of the key objectives.” “And why is this, Major?” “General, while some of our troops showed great courage in defending the Rodina the vast majority ran away like little ‘Nancy-boys’ at the first sign of combat.” “What do you mean Major?” “Allow me to explain, comrade general. Look here on this map. This position here was held by a single, elderly German hausfrau armed with a 115mm rolling pin. With it she was able to check the advance of 4 experienced platoons, even though her position was under direct fire from our Maxims, 50mm mortars and a platoon of tanks. She attacked our troops with such ferocity that she first flattened and then rolled up their position. Over here, another 4 conscripted platoons were decimated and driven to obscene acts of cowardice by a group of German kinder armed with slingshots and balls of strudel. They put up such a fierce barrage of stale pastry that our troops crumbled in an instant. And here, a pair of German dairy maids armed with some sort of modified flamethrower decimated a platoon of tanks and 2 platoons of our most experienced troops in a most horrible manner.” “How so?” “Comrade general, these despicable maids shot streams of congealed milk fat at our troops, smothering them to death.” “You mean…” “Yes, comrade general, they were creamed.” General Boldin looks across the scarred ground and notices an unusually muddy area with large numbers of boot and shoes stick in the ground. “Major, what happened there?” “General, that is where a platoon on conscripts wetted themselves ‘en masse’ at the first sound of gunfire and then fled with such haste that they left their footwear in the newly formed mud.” “Unbelievable.” “It is worse than that comrade general. When I investigated the cause of their cowardice I discovered that it was not gunfire, but an unusually loud flatulence from Sergeant Grishin which caused the conscripts to panic.” “So, major, how would you sum up the command our troops?” “General, I would liken it to trying to herd a large number of feral and highly excitable cats with a water pistol.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sgian Dubh Posted September 20, 2002 Author Share Posted September 20, 2002 I proofread and proofread and there are still typos... *sigh* Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Juju Posted September 20, 2002 Share Posted September 20, 2002 Fun, though. Some of the typos actually add to the flavor. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lars Posted September 20, 2002 Share Posted September 20, 2002 Everybody knows you don't mess with a elderly hausfrau. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted September 20, 2002 Share Posted September 20, 2002 "They were creamed." Good lord, man. Have you NO pride??? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sgian Dubh Posted September 20, 2002 Author Share Posted September 20, 2002 There are no lengths to which I will not go, no depths to which I will not sink to make a pun. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sgian Dubh Posted September 20, 2002 Author Share Posted September 20, 2002 Lars: Actually I have a great story told to me by a priest who was a Spitfire pilot in WWII with the RCAF. After the war, he happend to meet a former Luftwaffe pilot. Fr. Beaumont happened to notice a scar on the German's face which he thought was a 'schmeese' (I don't know the correct spelling) mark gained by the German in a fencing club. Fr. Beaumont they had talked about other things, he inquired about the 'schmeese' mark. The German gentleman laughed and said that he had gotten the mark when he had gone home on his first leave. Hi family lived in/near the black forest. His mother told him one morning to go and get some fire wood. He had replied that he was an officer in the Luftwaffe and could not be expected to do such menial task (I can't remember the exact words I was told he used). His mother then grabbed a metal frying pan and hit him in the head, which resulted in the scar. His mother told him something to the effect that he may be an officer, but he was still her son and would do as he was told. Fr. Beaumont believed this story to be true, so am telling it as such. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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