Moggie Moo
Dedicated Member
Episode 4 ALL QUIET WITH CORNED BEEF AND CUSTARD
Clegg had woke up very early on this December morning, he had become cold in the early hours and thought that his hot water bottle had sustained some sort of malfunction. Upon getting out of bed and feeling for any tell tale signs he concluded everything was as it should be. Wrestling into his dressing gown he donned his slippers and made his way to the kitchen. His stove was still quite warm but he raked it up and shovelled in a few hours of coal. He lifted his dressing gown to warm his vitals then administered some hot water to his mug of anticipating Mazawattee. He let it steep whilst he put on his trousers,shirt,tie and cardigan. Slipping on his waistcoat he picked up his watch off the mantel. Checking the time and with a few turns of the winder he placed it into his waistcoat pocket adjusting the chain for security. Now fully dressed he sat at his scrubbed kitchen table and completed his mashing of the mazawatte. He took a sip and wondered if he had left a fig biscuit in the assortment he had opened for supper last night."Aye come on my little beauty I have just the spot for you" he thought he had said to himself. He glanced over to the photographs he had been studying last night and wondered what his Uncle Cedric had meant by writing the words "Harry's Pipes" on the back of a group photograph of his old army pals. He decided to wear his heavy raincoat today, he didn't want to entice any pneumonic virus that may be lurking after being cold last night. In fact he would take a tot before leaving. Wrapping his scarf tighter he opened his front door, putting on his hat he stepped out into the chill.
Meanwhile Blamire had gone up to his pidgeon hole to see if there were any memo's from above. He liked to think that he was the mainstay of any communication or deligator of any orders from upstairs. He liked to think that he'd been chosen to be the area manager, so to speak, after all he had the experience from his army days and especially his exemplary conduct with the gas board. He had the pension to prove it. What he did regret from the other world was that he never got a gold watch. He always used that excuse as to the reason he never bought a three piece suit. Deep down he knew it wasn't that but the fact that a waistcoat was always an extra twelve and six. Arriving at his pidgeon hole he could see that there were some instructions for him and three brown wage packets. "Oh pay day " he laughed to himself. They all felt to be the same weight and there was no coppers in them. "Feels like no bonus for me then, and all this running about I do." indistinctly uttering under his breath hoping he wasn't overheard. He put his wage packet in his wallet, and theirs in his overcoat pocket. As he read the memo a smile developed under his moustache and looking up to the sky he uttered the words " Thank You, just the job." He slipped up the knot in his tie, put his wallet and the memo in his inside blazer pocket, fastened the new brass buttons, and putting his hands inside his overcoat pocket to hold it fastened he strutted out to the park pavilion.
Down at the pavilion Compo and Wally had been watching for a Tippler to come in. Wally was watching for it for a mate who had released it from Macclesfield and was training it for a big endurance race. Wally walked over to the openside of the pavilion and looked up. "Nah there's nowt, I'd better go up to top of park, I don't want to miss it, I'll see thi later Compo. Pass mi basket."" Ok kid, I' ll see thee later." replied Compo. " How do Clegg " said Wally as he passed him on the way out. " How do Wally, I take it, it's for something fancy why your leaving the coop?" " Aye a tippler from Macclesfield." Wally shouted back. " I once had a bird like that, four port and lemons and she used to tipple over" laughed Compo. " No Blamire yet" replied Cleggy. " You know him, since we've been here, he'll be up at head office playing high and mighty. Its Tuesday, he goes up there every Tuesday." Scalded Compo." Well its pay day today so I don't mind him being a bit late." yielded Cleggy. " Tuesdays I used to do my spot the ball, spend all morning studying the photo and where their eyes were looking. I'd get two lollipop sticks to form two projections then place one hundred crosses in an inch and a half square. I never got near, they say it was an art." sighed Compo " I'd say it was flaming luck" laughed Cleggy. " I still do the pools in this time we are in, I try to remember who won all those years ago but I can't get those Eight Draws. I was even unlucky with the Australian" Continued Compo." Well look what happened to them at Gallipoli." remarked Clegg.
"Good morning comrades. Its just the day for undertaking by choice, an offer to offer your services without obligation, a request by our superiors." enthused Blamire. " You know what you can do with your offer to offer and that's be offer" quipped Compo. "This sounds like something solemnly impressive coming our way." replied Clegg. " Have you got the wages, I need some fags, I could murder a nice navy cut." Squarked Compo hopefully." Here" said Blamire, offering them their wage packets and an open packet of Players. " Can't you ever budget your ciggies to last a week" Blamire coughed out. " Listen Prudence, I have enough problems coping with Wally's pidgeons without taking on a budgie as well," squawked Compo. " Whats with all this comrade buisness? I thought you were a conservative through and through" retorted Clegg." you haven't gone all 'ism's on us have you?" he continued." No no, I just wanted to pull us together as a team for our little forthcoming adventure." said Blamire rather sheepishly. " Forth going more like! Whats he up to Norm?" Chortled Compo." I think I need to put my fingers in my ears because I don't think they will like what they are about to hear." Squirmed Clegg. Blamire looked at his watch and asked " What time do you make it Cleggy?" Taking his pocket watch out of his waistcoat Clegg replied, "Two minutes to eleven." " Well my friends, pals, take a look outside the pavilion" said Blamire gesturing to the open front of the pavilion. Coming down from the hill and out of the mist was a funeral procession. The hearse was pulled by four black, black plumed horses and two accompanying two horse carriages. Obviously it was someone of honour and importance. Walking in front of the procession was a lone mourner setting the pace of the proceedings. The figure a tall gentleman in black garments manifesting the sorrow and grief of the occupants of the two carriages. His flag of black lowered on its standard, an expression without words for the bereft. As the funeral procession passed the trio they removed their hats in silence until it had passed by them. Blamire still holding his hat in his hand said in a very low voice, " that my friends is our target tonight," as it proceeded down the hill into the church yard. Compo and Clegg looking at Blamire, their mouths ajar, managed to say in exasperation," our target tonight, what you on about, come here you! you!" Flailing their caps towards him as he hurried off towards Sid's Palace.
Sid had just mashed a new brew and was wiping down the counter when the door flew open and a breathless Blamire hurled himself to a table to flop heavily down in the chair. As he laid his head on the table he pointed to the door. " Morning " uttered Sid, " three teas I take it". The door swung open passed its normal operational axis causing it to bounce back at Compo pushing him towards the other table, where he too flopped on to a chair." Do you want some buns with these" added Sid. Clegg walked in cool and collective saying," make one an eccles cake." " make that two" piped Compo, "Th, Three" stuttered Blamire. " So thats three teas and three eccles. Thats fourpence 'ha'penny, who's paying." said a very sedate Sid." My turn I think Sid" replied Clegg handing him a tanner. "Three 'ha'pence change" offered Sid looking at the three of them. Clegg took his change and sat with Blamire. Sid carried on wiping down the counter. Blamire by now had recovered enough to light a Players, and offered Cleggy one. As he took it Blamire turned to Compo, who was still laying his head on the table, and said "are you fit enough to draw on one of these then." " Your tea and eccles is here too." added Cleggy. " What I want to know is, whats this got to do with a funeral." groaned Compo. "Nothing " was the gleeful reply from Blamire as he took a sip."Its who was at the funeral." he continued. Now something stirred in Compo's head because he got up to come to their table. He picked up the cig packet and took one out to light it. He sat him self down and took a sip of tea." Your not talking about kidnapping are you" he queried.
"No you fool, its just a simple task of getting this person to the right place." replied Blamire." I don't want to sound unduly curious and inquiring but who is it and what is the place." asked Clegg "George Avery, and we have to get him to Batley for 20:00 hours tonight in the first instance." said Blamire apprehensively." He's something to do with the senior service from what I can gather" expanded Blamire. " Speaking of cigs, flash some more ash and I could do a pint." Winced Compo." Senior Service you say, something in the Royal Navy." asked Clegg. " Er, Er, a Captain actually I'am led to believe" explained Blamire as he handed Compo a Players." All I can say is that he has to be escorted to his destination this evening. Its arranged for us to meet him at the White Horse at 17:00 hours. We don't have to do it but it would be a break in this lull of excitment we've had over the last few months." pleaded Blamire." Well I'm intrigued by Captain Avery and I'am ready for a pint. You can count me in." smiled Clegg. " Hey Norm we won't be pressed will we, I never liked the ocean but the rums alright. Come on then! the White Horse is open all day the market's on." shouted Compo as he jumped up out of his seat." I'm right behind you and Blamires paying" scoffed Clegg. Blamire was more shocked than he thought he would be as they had accepted the challenge. He shouted after them, " if I'am paying, no whiskey chasers."
The afternoon passed into tea time and the beer was taking a grip. Compo had been chatting to some mill lasses who had told him that they were running khaki and with double shifts, with plenty of overtime they would have a good Christmas this year. When he told Cleggy he cynically replied," Aye and the the mills in Lancashire will be running white cotton for the shrouds." Compo sighed " True Norm we know whats coming." " Stop getting maudlin you two, its tatty britches turn. Just half for me and I'll pop out to see if the Captain is coming." Chirped Blamire." Just be careful where your popping out with all these mill lasses about, they'll have you for supper." laughed Compo as he stood to go to the bar. Blamire delicately squeezed passed a crowd of the lasses as they jeered and jostled his embarrassment, quickley exiting the door onto the street where he straightened his attire. Looking up the pavement a taxi was drawing to a stop. The cab door opened and out fell a kit bag closely followed by a bell bottomed leg. Seconds later there stood a matelot putting on his cap looking back at the driver.They were having some disagreement about the fare." I'm telling you mate, half a crown would get me from the fleet club to Clarance Pier four times back in Pompey." Hiccupped the matelot. " Look! we don't have a pier, its not Wigan, the station to the White Horse is standard fare, three shillings." retorted the Taxi driver. Blamire approached the to do apprehensively, " Good evening gentlemen, could I be of assistance. Cyril Blamire at your service." " Ah! Blamire, I'm Avery" the matelot gleefully replied, " He wants three bob, sort him out and lets get on" Ordered Avery as he picked up his kit bag. Eyes wide, Blamire ahgast, fumbled in his trouser pocket for three bob and paid the driver." Thanks pal, bloomin sailors, nowt but wind and ale carts when ashore" cursed the driver as he started to drive off. When Blamire turned around the matelot had reached the pub door and was about to enter. " Excuse me Captain Avery," Shout Blamire." Shush matey hold your tongue,I'm leading seaman Avery PJX 2123419 until further notice. Incognito don't you know. Were all hush hush." " Hush Hush, nobody mention hush hush" exclaimed Blamire. " Were not equipped for hush hush. what sort of mission is this?" queried Blamire." This is no time for mental reservations where's the rest of the team." replied Avery. " Lets go into the snug and then I'll fetch them in." said Blamire ushering the matelot inside.
Blamire fought his way back into the public bar, Cleggy was still sat feebly in his seat resisting an inducement by a Mrs Maureen Micklethwaite to loosen up and become less formal as the night was young. Which was more than could be said about a Mrs Micklethwaite. Compo on the other hand had decided tonight would be a good time to rehearse his patter about the use of mistletoe and the Christmas Spirit. He would disappear into a group of lasses to which his hand clutched mistletoe would appear above their heads accompanied by either a slap or scream depending on the recipients receptiveness, to which Compo would be ejected from the group of lasses in a fit of merriment. Blamire took of his hat and raised it into the air waving it to attract Cleggy's attention. He could see Cleggy me-moing something that looked like HELP ME! as Mrs Micklethwaite wrapped her finger into that kiss curly bit of hair under his hat. He managed to get to Clegg's table and said to Mrs Micklethwaite "I've just seen your Albert going into the Brown Cow with that Shirley Bennet." " Shirley Bennet. I'll give him Shirley Bennet" she screeched stridently getting up and pushing her way towards the Brown Cow. With that Blamire shouted to Cleggy " Snug Now! I'll grab the son of the sheik ." Blamire hovered around a group of lasses and waited for the impending ejection. On cue the scream came and out bundled a dispatch of merriment collared by the collar and frog marched to the snug.
Compo and escort entered the snug where Clegg stood to one side astounded looking over to the fire side table. "You've sent me in here after just escaping from Mrs Micklethwaite to see this. Is it some sort of psychological treatment, like when you fall of your bike, getting straight back on again. I'm not ready for another Mrs Micklethwaite and I never will be" pleaded Cleggy. There sat at the fire side table was Leading Seaman Avery with Shirley Bennet on his knee. " She offered me a Tickler, you can't refuse a pretty face offering a Tickler can you" said a sheepish leading Seaman. " Its always the same, matelots have a bird in every pub" remonstrated Compo. "Shirley Bennet you should be at the Brown Cow, this mans goverment property, unhand him at once he has M.O.D buisness to attend to." rebuked Blamire. "Don't worry I marked his card when he asked me to get the Gin and Its in. He's getting none of it, I'm off" scalded Shirley Bennet as she got up and went into the public bar.
As they sat down around the table Cleggy remarked " leading seaman, I thought it was Captain Avery." "Shush " said Blamire as he put his finger to his lips. " Yes its all a bit hush hush don't you know " replied and inebriated Avery. "Those trousers are a bit concerning for security issues, I can see potential leaks there" he continued, pointing at Compo." You would be surprised what leaks he has. There's been unauthorised breaches and deliberate disclosure of confidential equipment.He's just a full time faulty installation. They should have a church fund for those trousers." explained Blamire. " Imagine that Compo, a whole church fund just for you." quipped Clegg. " Do you think I could become a site of local interest." laughed Compo. " I wish you would keep them out of my sight" replied Blamire. "Thats what I like to see, team building, sharing wit, skills, drinks, cigarettes, it just goes on." chirped in Avery.
"One more, then we better be off" said Blamire. "Compo your turn, just half for me" said Cleggy. " I'll have a pink gin my good man" replied Avery. Compo stood up and leaned over to Avery's side of the table and invoked " Listen leading Nelson! in this pub we drink Websters Bitter or Mild, whats it to be?" "Oh yes for the sake of the team I'll have half of mild please, in a straight glass" replied an immediately sobered Avery.
Blakeys bus was on time as they clambered into the downstairs seats, Compo and Clegg sat behind Blamire and Avery. Blakey shouted from his driving position, " you'll need some helmets" he laughed as he shut the doors." Eh! Cyril whats he on about" asked a worried Compo, he continued "I'm not motor biking, you can forget that." " it just a technical issue we have to sort out in Batley" replied Blamire." When we get the next bus I'll open the sealed orders for a fuller briefing" added Leading Seaman Avery. " Oh Norm I think we've been had" squirmed Compo as he turned to look at Clegg. Nora came down from upstairs chuntering," Oh! you've got here then. I'll give you returns because I know you'll mind how you go and your all to daft to come to any harm." " You know, I like a woman in uniform, such a comfort to us fighting men" said Avery. " Tha'll be fighting me if you tickle my bird's ticket machine" shouted an agitated Compo." Calm down, Calm down if there's any fighting on this bus it'll be with me and my brush, its got a new head on it for the Christmas rush, so pack it in. Save your energy, your gonna need it." Yelled Nora who wasn't phased by the thought of two men fighting over her.That said she headed back upstairs with someones change. Looking out of the window Cleggy could see the lights of Batley Market and the tram shed. Tram shed! he thought, we've gone back to 1914, it was pulled down in 1915 for a munitions factory. By the heck! were going to the Western Front. No wonder Nora didn't want to sell us return tickets." Blamire! Blamire are you taking us to the Western Front, you've tricked us again, you'll have us blown to bits, He'll have us blown to bits" he whelped at Compo." Calm down, Calm down, you won't be blown to bits. Would I take you lot into serious danger, I mean HE! still owes me a fiver and this brave Captain will explain why, when we open the secret orders." Blamire said reassuringly as he turned to Cleggy. The bus turned into the market square and stopped. Blakey opened the doors and shouted "Change here for the Western Front, Howards charabanc over by the market cross" he laughed again and said " Get your flipping helments". "A charabanc tour of the western front is just what anyone needs to be reassured their not being led into danger in 1914." hysterically cried Cleggy. " It'll be alright Norm, like he said, I owe him a fiver, he'll not get us involved in anything dangerous, well what I really mean is life threatening." said Compo to Cleggy very sympathetically." You know I can't do women and dangerous, especially on the same day." winced Cleggy. " Oh! it'll be me doing the dangerous, it always is" squawked Compo." Come on team, gather round" encouraged Avery as they stood by the charabanc. Avery had changed into his field uniform as the rank of Captain, a tall dark and handsome as he ushered the team under the street lamp to brief them. He pointed to the trunk on the pavement and told them that there were great coats and helmets for them as it might get a bit colder later as it was now 01:00 hours, the 24th Decemember 1914 with snow expected. There was a clatter and clanging as they sorted through the trunk to find the gear to fit them. An helmet, a great coat, boots and a water bottle containing Woods 100% proof to build spirits. Stood underneath the street lamp, their breath vapours rising, Compo wafting his arms to keep out the cold shouted from under his tin helmet, " come on Nelson! tell us the plan, whats the game, come on." " Settle down now lads, our mission is to get important information to a certain german officer who can change the course of this war. I have this information which I obtained from a Lord Dolby BSc.CE. earlier, before I attended his wifes funeral yesterday." explained Avery. "Lord Dolby, isn't he something big in biscuits? he has a big factory in Batley and letters after his name." asked Clegg."Thats correct, you see, the team is functioning already, a canny brain that man." replied Avery. Compo chirped,"Whats biscuits got to do with western front" "All will be come clear as I will explain when we get moving." gestured Avery towards the charabanc.
They proceeded in line to board the vehicle. The driver stood on the pavement and greeted them as they climbed aboard," good evening gentlemen, I am Francis your driver for today, hope you will enjoy your trip." Silence, not a word was said by the team." oooo! please yourselves." said Francis as he climbed into the drivers seat " just think, I could have had a job in variety" he chuntered. The team sat at the back on the charabanc, pulling their great coat collars up to keep out the chill. Cleggy was glad he had put his heavy raincoat on too. Compo was a bit drafty around the trousers as Blamire had sensed and once again criticised his holey attire as he offered out the cigarettes." There's always something soothing about a cigarette when in certain situations one would find oneself in" stated Avery. " Its even more soothing if they are someone else's" laughed Compo. " I can't decide whether having cold feet or a hot cup of Sid's tea is worse." stated Cleggy. " I'd settle for the warm company of Anne Shelton. Her real name was Patricia you know." replied Blamire. " You would'nt be on first name terms then" teased Clegg. "No I would always respect her as Anne." mused Blamire. In the distance a single light could be seen and as they drew nearer it became the shape of a building with several lights on. "We are here, Le Petite Cafe, our base camp" pointed Avery. "Jump to it lads, refreshments and warmth. Will you bring my kitbag Compo theres stuff we need in there." asked Avery. "Of course I will mon Capitan, you get them in." Compo brusquely replied."Apres vu mon ami" Cleggy indicated to Compo to go first. "Less of the french were not in the EU now" coarsely shouted Blamire.
Captain Avery pushed open the cafe door into a dimly lit room. There were several tables covered with chequered cloths. The tables were spread randomly around the room with more of an abundance of them down the side of the large cafe window. The letters on the glass read backwards "CAFE REN IE". Compo who was twisting his head to read and decipher the lettering, read out loud " Cafe Rene, I went out with a bird called Rene, her dad didnt like me though. He knew my Uncle Geoff. They were in Armley together." "Its RENNIE" piped up the propietor, " you english might say, as a mint for indigestion." he quipped rolling his eyes." Cafe Indigestion, I wonder if he's related to him at the Epidemic Fisheries." asked Clegg. Compo chirped up, "hey mister! you've got an 'N' missing." " Yes and thats why there's a shortage of eggs for breakfast." replied the propietor as he shut the door ushering them to a table by the window. " Can I get you some house wine, a coffee perhaps, its a little early for breakfast. Seven thirty usually the wife serves the croissants." I'll try a coffee perhaps, with one sugar" replied Cleggy. " make that coffee perhapsies all round." interjected Blamire lighting up a cigarette. The propietor cleaned an ashtray and pushed it on to the table,he turned his head towards the bar and shouted "Edee! quatre cafe au lait."
Whilst they were waiting for their Coffee perhapsies, Avery said pointing to Compo " that kitbag there, delve in and get me that big book." " eee! Norm its just like Christmas, opening a big sock" laughed Compo as he pulled out the big book. Avery took the book from Compo and opened it at page 33. There was a full page photograph of a football team. He put the book down on the table and pointed to the man in the middle of the line up. "There thats our man, Albert Von Klinkerlien, Inside right for Eindleggan United. Now Major Von Klinkerlien, Third Battalion Gazzen Warfaren." "Gazzen warfaren smells a bit iffy to me" said Cleggy. "If we have to give him some information, would it be to DO! with Gazzen Warfaren" burrowed Blamire. " In a way Yes" reproached Captain Avery. Frowning he continued, " We know that the enemy will use Gazzen Warfaren at some point because Von Klinkerlien is at the front to evaluate and determine the time and method of deployment. He saw what happend when the French used tear gas earlier this year and how effective it was. He is of an old military family, gentlemans code and all that, so he does oppose using it. Our aim is to help Major Von Klinkerlien slow down the development of the use of gas until our forces can be more equipped to defend against it." The propietor returned from the kitchen with a tray of drinks." Four Cafe au laits, thats with milk and one with sugar. Would you gentlemen require something to eat. Croissants will be warmed and ready in two minutes, or we have some biscuits the last lot of tommies left. I keep them in a tin at the bar." " Pass the tin over here then and lets have a look, there might be a fig biscuit in there." said an elated Cleggy. The propietor, a tall rotund chap, dark balding, with a moustache of substance glided over to the bar to pick up the biscuit tin. He removed the lid as he approached their table revealing the tins contents." oo! look a fig for me" gushed Cleggy. "I'll have a couple of ginger nuts " requested Blamire." Thats true" seconded Compo."But I think I'll try one of those crossydants" he added." "If your good lady should have a chocolate croissant with a spoon of honey I would be must grateful for that small blessing" obsequiously replied the Captain. The propietor unpretentiously replied " certainly sir, we are here to please." " I say, did you see who's biscuits they were, Dolbys of Batley, there must have been some Yorkshire tommies through." butted in Blamire to break the tension.
The propietor responded with "Thats right sir, from Gods own Country, a place called Brighouse. They spoke about rent men. The bravest men in Yorkshire because apparently whatever befalls them they get back up into the fight. Like one of those terrier dogs that never let go of your ankles. They said a regiment of rent men would have it all over by Christmas. Well its the 25th tomorrow." " He's right Norm, my mother use to throw our rent man across the street every Friday, but sure enough he'd be back the following week." chirped Compo as his mouth struggled to contain the flakey croissant. Cleggy thought for moment and replied," I should imagine if they could have had tin helmets they would have had more success, especially up Abattoir Street. They should have a National Rent Man Day in commemoration of all the lost rent. A momumental door knocker in every town." "Lets have a coffee and a tot before we walk up to the playing field." suggested Avery. " Playing field, don't you mean the trenches?" coughed Blamire putting his cig out. " No! all will be clear once we get up there." responded Avery sharply.
They bustled out into the street. In the day light they could see the shell damage from the german artillery. The buildings didn't look habitable but there were people going about their buisness, carrying on with their daily lives, adjusting and evolving into the ever undesiring situation. Sharply, Captain Avery barked, " Get your helmets on lads, its the 24th we don't want any injuries now." They rounded a corner to an open expanse of snow to the right, to the left was the outcrop of the allied trench, the front, the western front, here in Ypres. They climbed down into a lookout post and peered over the sandbags. There was a wooden board with the words "WELCOME TO WIPERS" pivoted on the rear wall of the trench.
There was silence, this position had a commanding wide view where groups of soldiers of both sides were searching through the newly fallen snow for newly fallen comrades or those lucky enough to be wounded but not so comforting for those that were dying.There was a stench of death, mud and blood." Bloody hell" gasped Compo. " I knew it were bad but this brings it home" whispered a tear choked Clegg. " I saw some sights when I was in India but nothing like this, ye gods! the war to end all wars and what did we do. People get above their station and look what happens. Once a paper and decorator! stay a decorator." infuriated Blamire. Captain Avery put his hand on Blamire's shoulder and comfortingly said " I've seen things from many ages and times, but this always gets me. Thats why today we might have a chance to reduce some of this suffering. Come lads lets have a tot and bless 'em all." " I'll drink to that" Choked Compo.
Out of the silence a single voice shouted " hey tommie, a christmas knockwurst for you", followed by a flying german sausage landing in front of the trench. "Merry Christmas to you too Fritz" yelled a tommie as two tins of corned beef flew over to the german trench. "Thats why we need these tin hats" laughed Compo, as sausages and tins of corned beef rained down along the front. Shouts of Merry Christmas and Frohe Weihnachten! abounded. Unable to contain himself Blamire cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted " Merry Christmas to the bloody lot of you and God bless you all." " And I'll drink to that Blamire me old mate" replied Clegg.
Captain Avery pointed to the right and said " tomorrow there will be a football match, thats when we go into action. Yes action, your asking where do we come in?" The three of them looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders." Whats he mean Norm" gaped Compo. " I think were going to a football match" cringed Cleggy. " Lets retreat from this hail of Christmas tide goodies and set our plan in the cafe" said Avery in a very light hearted 100% proof manner. They started to walk back to the village in the dwindling light and flurries of falling snow. A mouth organ could be heard distantly playing a christmas carol, mens voices humming to the tune, a lone tenor singing the words " Silent Night" all is calm, all was calm. The cafe door rang its bell as they entered. The propietor had found a christmas tree and some old decorations trimmed it up. " Good evening gentlemen, drinks on the house to start and a table by the window I think." an enthused propietor ushering them to a table. "Thank you my good man and may we have a menu" recipricated Blamire. " There's no Menu sir, its Duck a l'orange and Chocolate souffle." responded the owner. "Orange ducks! wait until I tell Wally, he'll never believe me" said Compo as he took a guzzle of wine " Ahhh, I hope its better than this vino" he laughed. They received their meal and dined in a quiet melancholy manner, reflecting on what they had seen today. Blamire was trying to set the standards of etiquette, by using his knife and fork to dissect the duck meat from the bones, both little fingers outstretched as a symbol of pretentious elegance. Opposite him sat Compo,picking up the duck leg to eat it with his fingers, tearing of the succulent flesh with his good tooth." haw! look at him, he'll need more than a finger bowl when he's finished, infact we'll need a bath, look at this duck sauce all over the place." complained Blamire. " That were great, I could eat it again Norm, especially that choclate pudding." enthused Compo. Cleggy replied, " If your going to eat it again, now that you've had a practice run, perhaps you could get it all in your mouth next time." Compo laughed and shouted " Right! who's turn for the ciggies then." They all lit up from a single match and ordered some more wine. Breathing in his cigarette smoke Captain Avery said to Compo " pass that big book again and lets make a plan of action." The table had been cleared, only their glasses of wine remained along with two ashtrays.
Captain Avery opened the book again and said," we known about Von Klinkerlien, but the spanner in the wheel is this fellow here" he pointed to the man at the left side of the line up."He's Ludovic Flukenstien, now head of the german military security. He was Von Klinkerlien's best friend at college and will have dinner with him tomorrow. If he plays in the game then we will have to make sure he does not see anything that will incriminate Von Klinkerlien."
" So whats the underhand scheme to ensure Ludovic doesn't get curious about his old mucker Albert." said an intrigued Cleggy " Firstly, We take control of the match. Compo will be referee" explained Avery. " Great, do I have a whistle, you won't shout obscenities at me will you." laughed Compo. Blamire said to him, " Your really up for this arn't you." " Of course I am, all those times those refs have deprived me of my eight draws, its pay back time." responded a jubilant Compo." Thats the spirit" added Avery,he continued " your job Compo will be to lure Von Klinkerlien into a foul by Big George Wallside, full back for the allies." "How will we know Big George" uttered Cleggy. " With a surname like Wallside I think he might be pretty obvious," remarked Blamire. Avery continued the plan, "Klinkerlien will try to tackle Wallside who will fall on to Klinkerlien, resulting in him needing medical attention. This is where you two come in as stretcher bearers to sponge him down. Cleggy you will be the sponger, Blamire you will slip the envelope containing the secret information into Klinkerlien's shorts. Wallside will try to prevent Flukenstien from seeing anything by blocking his view. Compo will declare Klinkerlien unfit and send him for an early bath. Once out of the game Klinkerlien will deal with his side of the plan. Any questions?" Cleggy timidly raised his hand " sponge down, I' m not really into sponging someone else down, it sounds a bit Turkish bathish. Could I just hand him a damp cloth for his own use." "Play it by ear Clegg, assess the situation, needs must when need arises." replied Avery.
Blamire piped up, " What worries me is, will Klinklien be wearing underpants, as you know there is a certain calibre of undergarment in this vicinity which no man should ever have to come in contact with." "Inside his shorts there should be an inner pocket to place the envelope and of course he will be wearing his continental jockeyshorts." rebuffed Captain Avery. "The time of the match is a 09:30 kick off tomorrow, but now lets enjoy our wine and the rest of the evening." relented the Captain. Compo chirped, " I wonder if the propietor's wife is musical." " What makes you think that." quizzed Blamire. " There's something about her legs that remind me of a grand piano" replied Compo dryly. "She might be his Steinway and thats what matters." endeared Cleggy. "Aye thats true Norm, very true." sighed Compo. "Million dollar legs, I remember those. They seemed to like painting them on the sides of aircraft." reminisced Blamire. "Legs eleven, Bingo caller from Bolton, whoops! I was thinking aloud." indulged the Captain.The night hazed on as they sat in the warmth and dozed off now and again. A cockeral woke up Compo, who saw the propietor mooching around the tables clearing the last of the late drinkers glasses and taking orders for breakfast. Compo elbowed Cleggy, " Hey Norm, I just thought, I'm gonna need a black shirt." " Wrong war, but I admire your enthusiasm." yawned Cleggy. " He means some referee's attire, something that will make him stand out when presiding over the game. All though the way he dresses he stands out way above the rest of us and shoud be stood outside, out of elbow range." butted in Blamire lighting a Players. " I have an idea " chirped Avery, " Garcon, ce vous plaise." he summond the propietor. " We need something black, a jacket, jumper, or a blouse, something of authority." Avery explained to the propietor. " I'm not wearing a blouse, King or country be blowed. I dont want any funny looks thank you." griped Compo." Jockeys wear silks and you look for them every day" quipped Cleggy. " Aye! and I think sometimes the horses would do a lot better without them" squirmed Compo. " The ones you back usually do" laughed Blamire.
The propietor returned explaining, " this is the best I can do". He held up a black waiters tail coat. They all looked at Compo and together they laughed, "Just the job." They all gave him assistance to don the garment. Cleggy remarked, " You know something me old mate, you wouldn't look out of place at the Flying Horse, doing all that fancy waitering. This is probably the nearest you've ever been to a days work." " Aw, thanks Norm, I like to do my bit" impudently laughed Compo. Cleggy and Blamire slipped on their red cross armbands, Avery passed the secret envelope to Blamire and together they left the cafe. Blamire secured the envelope in his inside overcoat pocket as they walked up to the field. Coming towards them was Big George who didn't need any introduction. He saw the armbands and made a bee line for Cleggy and Blamire. " Hey Up lads, I think we got a good day for it, It'll be a reet champion match, lets hope you don't have to use these too often." he grated in an east coast accent as he handed over a stretcher and first aid bag. " I'm right looking forward to it. 'av not had a mulluck since we left Hull. You can't beat a good knock about." he continued throatily. " I'm George Wallside, my mates call me Big Wallside, cos I'm big, I guess." " Thanks Big" replied a sheepishly Cleggy as he passed the strecther to Blamire who nodded as he hoisted it up to his shoulder. Slipping the strap of the first aid bag over his head he turned to Blamire and quipped, " You wouldn't want him sat in front of you at the Roxy." " Aye but its a shame, cos he'll make a hell of a target" replied a remorseful Blamire. Big George turned around and they followed him up the hill to the field.
The football teams began to assemble, they had conjured up some team strips, white for the Allies, mainly vests and long johns. The Germans had a red and white strip, made from beetroot sacking and white long johns. The teams ran around limbering up, Compo joined in at the center of the field doing his knee bends and pogo jumps. He looked around to identify Von Klinkerlien. It wasn't hard. There were just two professionals on that field, the second one being Fluckenstein. They wore football boots and had cotton shorts over their long johns, they even had their club scarves on around their necks. As Compo did his warm up exercises, catching Cleggy's and Blamires attention he pointed them out. Klinkerlien had a number 7 on his back and Fluckenstein had a number 5. As Blamire noted the number of the conspirator he remarked, " Its a good job old tatty pants doesn't have a number on, or you would think he was part of the Yorkshire Formation Dance Team." Compo looked at the watch Avery had lent him and blew his whistle indicating the teams to take their side of play. The Germans had won the toss, so they played from the right.
Everywhere hands were shaken, Compo blew his whistle, game on.
Within 10 minutes of the start, The Allies took the lead after some brilliant combined work by the forwards. Captain Kelly made an opening for Private Wallace to run down and centre the ball to Sargent Hitchcock, who scored very cleverly from a position almost under the makeshift crossbar. Three minutes later Germany drew level. The pace of Von Klinkerlien had previously threatened danger, and it was from one of his runs that Fluckenstein was enabled to score. This goal was followed by a series of hot attacks upon the Allied goal, and three minutes later another brilliant movement by Kelly and Wallace enabled the latter to put the ball into the goal-mouth, and Hitchcock dashed in and did the rest. Compo blew for half time and came over to his oppo's. "Give us a fag, I'm knackered." he gasped. Avery stepped in with an eager enthusiastic team talk," right lads its two one, but thats not the aim here. we've got to get Klinkerlien down. I've had a word with kelly he's going to make a play down this wing. Cleggy when he passes you throw your kit bag at his legs. Nobody will see because Big George will be covering him.Then the rest as planned. Ok lets go go go!."
Compo blew his whistle, 12 minutes after the restart Klinkerlien passed to Fluckenstein, who eluded the backs and sent in a shot that glanced off the goal-post into the net. Then another goal came 10 minutes later; Klinkerlien outpaced the defence, and, from his centre, Blucher transferred the ball to Fluckenstein, who scored the finest goal of the match...The score stood at three two to Germany and time was running out. The Allies equalised after seventeen minutes' play. Corporal Pennington placed the ball from a free-kick across the field, and Kelly, having dribbled neatly in order to find an opening, shot clear of Heinricht into the net.
Heinricht's wonderful goalkeeping kept the English forwards out until the last six minutes, but Kelly then intercepted a centre by Fluckenstein who was playing his best. Klinkerlien made an heroic effort to tackle, and was damaged in the collision with Kelly. He was down on the field, Compo blew his whistle indicating for medical assistance. Big George moved into blocking position, as Blamire and Cleggy came over to tend to Klinkerlien. Cleggy took the sponge out of his bag and began sponging down Klinkerlien's leg, whimpering, " I'm awfully sorry mein Herr, this isn't how I usually behave in company but needs must." Blamire rolled Klinkerlien over and slipped his hand into his shorts to place the envelope in the inner pocket. " Excuse me old boy but this will have to be quick." expressed an embarrassed Blamire. Klinkerlien looked at Blamire and half smiled with a wink, " Its ok englishman, the germanic people are not as conservative as you, feel free to do what you must." Blamire coughed and spluttered " The deed is done Herr Klinkerlien, besides I'am besotted with Anne Shelton." Blamire stood and signaled to Avery it was done. Compo shouted " Come on is he fit, we got a good match going on here." Cleggy nodded "yes" and Compo Blew to restart.
The game became more open after this, and, in the course of a German attack, Fluckenstein put the ball back with the intention of leaving Klinkerlien an easy clearance. Instead, the ball rolled slowly and Kelly dashed up to tackle, first the full back and then Muller, who had run out of goal. Kelly and goalkeeper both stumbled, but Kelly kept his feet, got the ball from Mullers hands, and proceeded to kick through an open goal... Compo blew the final whistle but disallowed the goal as it was after the whistle. It was a drawn game and both sides shouted obscenities at the referee as Compo picked up the ball and walked off the field shaking his head. As he approached Blamire and Cleggy they asked him why he had not allowed that last goal. " Look" he said " If I cant pick my draws on the pools, I'm damn sure I 'am gonna pick them if I'm in charge." With that the Yorkshire Formation Dance Team marched of the field.
They stood with Avery in the lookout post, Blamire had flashed the ciggies around. Avery drew on his Player and said " Well chaps I've got to leave you now, there's a lady waiting for a chimney putting on an old bus. I said I'd help her with it. Then its down to see Mother in Whitehall, a new recruit to break in. James somebody or other. it appears there's a Doctor in Russia causing a bit of bother but I don't think there will be any love lost there. Its all hush hush. Anyway lads I must be off. Perhaps we will meet again. If we do can you make sure he gets some new trousers." He picked up his kitbag and climbed up out of the lookout and folded into the dropping mist.
Looking out on to no mans land Cleggy pointed to the wooden crosses further afield. " Do you see that Compo, there's more than one hundred crosses and you don't need to study where their eyes are looking because they have all got them closed."
" I wonder what the information was that we passed over" quizzed Blamire. " Well old Dolby only ever made biscuits, his grandmother used to make a lovely custard tart, she sold them at' Saturday market all year round." said a very informative Compo. " Thats it" chirped Cleggy, " Perhaps old Dolby has passed on his grandmothers secret custard tart recipe. When the germans try to make the gas it turns out to be custard instead of mustard." Blamire replied " If only we could wish that was true." " I'm wishing" croaked Compo.
They climbed out of the lookout post and made their way back to the road. Blakey was there with his Huddersfield Special. He opened the doors as they approached and shouted to them," Did you need your helmets then?" " Aye we did " they replied in unison. " I tell them every year" he groaned. " you tell who every year? Blakey." insisted Cleggy. "The fans, ever since he had that Christmas Hit song, that beetle fellow from Liverpool, whats his name, Ringo Macartney." droned Blakey. " Imagine that, coming all the way from Liverpool to meet those Yorkshire rent men. I think they would need some peace pipes come closing time." laughed Cleggy. The Hudderfield Special pulled into the high street and the trio alighted. Cleggy turned to the other two and said " Before we go to the White Horse lets go by the War Memorial and say a thank you to those lads who couldn't watch the match today and have a look for an Harry" "I'd like to say a prayer and thank them, Harry who?" choaked Blamire. "My Uncle Cedric's mate" replied Cleggy. "Tomorrow why don't we go and see if we can get a custard tart." squawked Compo. " Don't forget its Boxing Day and we all know what sort of tarts you end up with." cribbed Blamire fastening his overcoat. " My stove will be out" brisked Cleggy. " Hey! its snowing" said Compo as they walked up to the High Street." Ivy does a tasty stuffed turkey but Sid always roasts the spuds. Its his signature dish, he insists." enthused Cleggy.
Clegg had woke up very early on this December morning, he had become cold in the early hours and thought that his hot water bottle had sustained some sort of malfunction. Upon getting out of bed and feeling for any tell tale signs he concluded everything was as it should be. Wrestling into his dressing gown he donned his slippers and made his way to the kitchen. His stove was still quite warm but he raked it up and shovelled in a few hours of coal. He lifted his dressing gown to warm his vitals then administered some hot water to his mug of anticipating Mazawattee. He let it steep whilst he put on his trousers,shirt,tie and cardigan. Slipping on his waistcoat he picked up his watch off the mantel. Checking the time and with a few turns of the winder he placed it into his waistcoat pocket adjusting the chain for security. Now fully dressed he sat at his scrubbed kitchen table and completed his mashing of the mazawatte. He took a sip and wondered if he had left a fig biscuit in the assortment he had opened for supper last night."Aye come on my little beauty I have just the spot for you" he thought he had said to himself. He glanced over to the photographs he had been studying last night and wondered what his Uncle Cedric had meant by writing the words "Harry's Pipes" on the back of a group photograph of his old army pals. He decided to wear his heavy raincoat today, he didn't want to entice any pneumonic virus that may be lurking after being cold last night. In fact he would take a tot before leaving. Wrapping his scarf tighter he opened his front door, putting on his hat he stepped out into the chill.
Meanwhile Blamire had gone up to his pidgeon hole to see if there were any memo's from above. He liked to think that he was the mainstay of any communication or deligator of any orders from upstairs. He liked to think that he'd been chosen to be the area manager, so to speak, after all he had the experience from his army days and especially his exemplary conduct with the gas board. He had the pension to prove it. What he did regret from the other world was that he never got a gold watch. He always used that excuse as to the reason he never bought a three piece suit. Deep down he knew it wasn't that but the fact that a waistcoat was always an extra twelve and six. Arriving at his pidgeon hole he could see that there were some instructions for him and three brown wage packets. "Oh pay day " he laughed to himself. They all felt to be the same weight and there was no coppers in them. "Feels like no bonus for me then, and all this running about I do." indistinctly uttering under his breath hoping he wasn't overheard. He put his wage packet in his wallet, and theirs in his overcoat pocket. As he read the memo a smile developed under his moustache and looking up to the sky he uttered the words " Thank You, just the job." He slipped up the knot in his tie, put his wallet and the memo in his inside blazer pocket, fastened the new brass buttons, and putting his hands inside his overcoat pocket to hold it fastened he strutted out to the park pavilion.
Down at the pavilion Compo and Wally had been watching for a Tippler to come in. Wally was watching for it for a mate who had released it from Macclesfield and was training it for a big endurance race. Wally walked over to the openside of the pavilion and looked up. "Nah there's nowt, I'd better go up to top of park, I don't want to miss it, I'll see thi later Compo. Pass mi basket."" Ok kid, I' ll see thee later." replied Compo. " How do Clegg " said Wally as he passed him on the way out. " How do Wally, I take it, it's for something fancy why your leaving the coop?" " Aye a tippler from Macclesfield." Wally shouted back. " I once had a bird like that, four port and lemons and she used to tipple over" laughed Compo. " No Blamire yet" replied Cleggy. " You know him, since we've been here, he'll be up at head office playing high and mighty. Its Tuesday, he goes up there every Tuesday." Scalded Compo." Well its pay day today so I don't mind him being a bit late." yielded Cleggy. " Tuesdays I used to do my spot the ball, spend all morning studying the photo and where their eyes were looking. I'd get two lollipop sticks to form two projections then place one hundred crosses in an inch and a half square. I never got near, they say it was an art." sighed Compo " I'd say it was flaming luck" laughed Cleggy. " I still do the pools in this time we are in, I try to remember who won all those years ago but I can't get those Eight Draws. I was even unlucky with the Australian" Continued Compo." Well look what happened to them at Gallipoli." remarked Clegg.
"Good morning comrades. Its just the day for undertaking by choice, an offer to offer your services without obligation, a request by our superiors." enthused Blamire. " You know what you can do with your offer to offer and that's be offer" quipped Compo. "This sounds like something solemnly impressive coming our way." replied Clegg. " Have you got the wages, I need some fags, I could murder a nice navy cut." Squarked Compo hopefully." Here" said Blamire, offering them their wage packets and an open packet of Players. " Can't you ever budget your ciggies to last a week" Blamire coughed out. " Listen Prudence, I have enough problems coping with Wally's pidgeons without taking on a budgie as well," squawked Compo. " Whats with all this comrade buisness? I thought you were a conservative through and through" retorted Clegg." you haven't gone all 'ism's on us have you?" he continued." No no, I just wanted to pull us together as a team for our little forthcoming adventure." said Blamire rather sheepishly. " Forth going more like! Whats he up to Norm?" Chortled Compo." I think I need to put my fingers in my ears because I don't think they will like what they are about to hear." Squirmed Clegg. Blamire looked at his watch and asked " What time do you make it Cleggy?" Taking his pocket watch out of his waistcoat Clegg replied, "Two minutes to eleven." " Well my friends, pals, take a look outside the pavilion" said Blamire gesturing to the open front of the pavilion. Coming down from the hill and out of the mist was a funeral procession. The hearse was pulled by four black, black plumed horses and two accompanying two horse carriages. Obviously it was someone of honour and importance. Walking in front of the procession was a lone mourner setting the pace of the proceedings. The figure a tall gentleman in black garments manifesting the sorrow and grief of the occupants of the two carriages. His flag of black lowered on its standard, an expression without words for the bereft. As the funeral procession passed the trio they removed their hats in silence until it had passed by them. Blamire still holding his hat in his hand said in a very low voice, " that my friends is our target tonight," as it proceeded down the hill into the church yard. Compo and Clegg looking at Blamire, their mouths ajar, managed to say in exasperation," our target tonight, what you on about, come here you! you!" Flailing their caps towards him as he hurried off towards Sid's Palace.
Sid had just mashed a new brew and was wiping down the counter when the door flew open and a breathless Blamire hurled himself to a table to flop heavily down in the chair. As he laid his head on the table he pointed to the door. " Morning " uttered Sid, " three teas I take it". The door swung open passed its normal operational axis causing it to bounce back at Compo pushing him towards the other table, where he too flopped on to a chair." Do you want some buns with these" added Sid. Clegg walked in cool and collective saying," make one an eccles cake." " make that two" piped Compo, "Th, Three" stuttered Blamire. " So thats three teas and three eccles. Thats fourpence 'ha'penny, who's paying." said a very sedate Sid." My turn I think Sid" replied Clegg handing him a tanner. "Three 'ha'pence change" offered Sid looking at the three of them. Clegg took his change and sat with Blamire. Sid carried on wiping down the counter. Blamire by now had recovered enough to light a Players, and offered Cleggy one. As he took it Blamire turned to Compo, who was still laying his head on the table, and said "are you fit enough to draw on one of these then." " Your tea and eccles is here too." added Cleggy. " What I want to know is, whats this got to do with a funeral." groaned Compo. "Nothing " was the gleeful reply from Blamire as he took a sip."Its who was at the funeral." he continued. Now something stirred in Compo's head because he got up to come to their table. He picked up the cig packet and took one out to light it. He sat him self down and took a sip of tea." Your not talking about kidnapping are you" he queried.
"No you fool, its just a simple task of getting this person to the right place." replied Blamire." I don't want to sound unduly curious and inquiring but who is it and what is the place." asked Clegg "George Avery, and we have to get him to Batley for 20:00 hours tonight in the first instance." said Blamire apprehensively." He's something to do with the senior service from what I can gather" expanded Blamire. " Speaking of cigs, flash some more ash and I could do a pint." Winced Compo." Senior Service you say, something in the Royal Navy." asked Clegg. " Er, Er, a Captain actually I'am led to believe" explained Blamire as he handed Compo a Players." All I can say is that he has to be escorted to his destination this evening. Its arranged for us to meet him at the White Horse at 17:00 hours. We don't have to do it but it would be a break in this lull of excitment we've had over the last few months." pleaded Blamire." Well I'm intrigued by Captain Avery and I'am ready for a pint. You can count me in." smiled Clegg. " Hey Norm we won't be pressed will we, I never liked the ocean but the rums alright. Come on then! the White Horse is open all day the market's on." shouted Compo as he jumped up out of his seat." I'm right behind you and Blamires paying" scoffed Clegg. Blamire was more shocked than he thought he would be as they had accepted the challenge. He shouted after them, " if I'am paying, no whiskey chasers."
The afternoon passed into tea time and the beer was taking a grip. Compo had been chatting to some mill lasses who had told him that they were running khaki and with double shifts, with plenty of overtime they would have a good Christmas this year. When he told Cleggy he cynically replied," Aye and the the mills in Lancashire will be running white cotton for the shrouds." Compo sighed " True Norm we know whats coming." " Stop getting maudlin you two, its tatty britches turn. Just half for me and I'll pop out to see if the Captain is coming." Chirped Blamire." Just be careful where your popping out with all these mill lasses about, they'll have you for supper." laughed Compo as he stood to go to the bar. Blamire delicately squeezed passed a crowd of the lasses as they jeered and jostled his embarrassment, quickley exiting the door onto the street where he straightened his attire. Looking up the pavement a taxi was drawing to a stop. The cab door opened and out fell a kit bag closely followed by a bell bottomed leg. Seconds later there stood a matelot putting on his cap looking back at the driver.They were having some disagreement about the fare." I'm telling you mate, half a crown would get me from the fleet club to Clarance Pier four times back in Pompey." Hiccupped the matelot. " Look! we don't have a pier, its not Wigan, the station to the White Horse is standard fare, three shillings." retorted the Taxi driver. Blamire approached the to do apprehensively, " Good evening gentlemen, could I be of assistance. Cyril Blamire at your service." " Ah! Blamire, I'm Avery" the matelot gleefully replied, " He wants three bob, sort him out and lets get on" Ordered Avery as he picked up his kit bag. Eyes wide, Blamire ahgast, fumbled in his trouser pocket for three bob and paid the driver." Thanks pal, bloomin sailors, nowt but wind and ale carts when ashore" cursed the driver as he started to drive off. When Blamire turned around the matelot had reached the pub door and was about to enter. " Excuse me Captain Avery," Shout Blamire." Shush matey hold your tongue,I'm leading seaman Avery PJX 2123419 until further notice. Incognito don't you know. Were all hush hush." " Hush Hush, nobody mention hush hush" exclaimed Blamire. " Were not equipped for hush hush. what sort of mission is this?" queried Blamire." This is no time for mental reservations where's the rest of the team." replied Avery. " Lets go into the snug and then I'll fetch them in." said Blamire ushering the matelot inside.
Blamire fought his way back into the public bar, Cleggy was still sat feebly in his seat resisting an inducement by a Mrs Maureen Micklethwaite to loosen up and become less formal as the night was young. Which was more than could be said about a Mrs Micklethwaite. Compo on the other hand had decided tonight would be a good time to rehearse his patter about the use of mistletoe and the Christmas Spirit. He would disappear into a group of lasses to which his hand clutched mistletoe would appear above their heads accompanied by either a slap or scream depending on the recipients receptiveness, to which Compo would be ejected from the group of lasses in a fit of merriment. Blamire took of his hat and raised it into the air waving it to attract Cleggy's attention. He could see Cleggy me-moing something that looked like HELP ME! as Mrs Micklethwaite wrapped her finger into that kiss curly bit of hair under his hat. He managed to get to Clegg's table and said to Mrs Micklethwaite "I've just seen your Albert going into the Brown Cow with that Shirley Bennet." " Shirley Bennet. I'll give him Shirley Bennet" she screeched stridently getting up and pushing her way towards the Brown Cow. With that Blamire shouted to Cleggy " Snug Now! I'll grab the son of the sheik ." Blamire hovered around a group of lasses and waited for the impending ejection. On cue the scream came and out bundled a dispatch of merriment collared by the collar and frog marched to the snug.
Compo and escort entered the snug where Clegg stood to one side astounded looking over to the fire side table. "You've sent me in here after just escaping from Mrs Micklethwaite to see this. Is it some sort of psychological treatment, like when you fall of your bike, getting straight back on again. I'm not ready for another Mrs Micklethwaite and I never will be" pleaded Cleggy. There sat at the fire side table was Leading Seaman Avery with Shirley Bennet on his knee. " She offered me a Tickler, you can't refuse a pretty face offering a Tickler can you" said a sheepish leading Seaman. " Its always the same, matelots have a bird in every pub" remonstrated Compo. "Shirley Bennet you should be at the Brown Cow, this mans goverment property, unhand him at once he has M.O.D buisness to attend to." rebuked Blamire. "Don't worry I marked his card when he asked me to get the Gin and Its in. He's getting none of it, I'm off" scalded Shirley Bennet as she got up and went into the public bar.
As they sat down around the table Cleggy remarked " leading seaman, I thought it was Captain Avery." "Shush " said Blamire as he put his finger to his lips. " Yes its all a bit hush hush don't you know " replied and inebriated Avery. "Those trousers are a bit concerning for security issues, I can see potential leaks there" he continued, pointing at Compo." You would be surprised what leaks he has. There's been unauthorised breaches and deliberate disclosure of confidential equipment.He's just a full time faulty installation. They should have a church fund for those trousers." explained Blamire. " Imagine that Compo, a whole church fund just for you." quipped Clegg. " Do you think I could become a site of local interest." laughed Compo. " I wish you would keep them out of my sight" replied Blamire. "Thats what I like to see, team building, sharing wit, skills, drinks, cigarettes, it just goes on." chirped in Avery.
"One more, then we better be off" said Blamire. "Compo your turn, just half for me" said Cleggy. " I'll have a pink gin my good man" replied Avery. Compo stood up and leaned over to Avery's side of the table and invoked " Listen leading Nelson! in this pub we drink Websters Bitter or Mild, whats it to be?" "Oh yes for the sake of the team I'll have half of mild please, in a straight glass" replied an immediately sobered Avery.
Blakeys bus was on time as they clambered into the downstairs seats, Compo and Clegg sat behind Blamire and Avery. Blakey shouted from his driving position, " you'll need some helmets" he laughed as he shut the doors." Eh! Cyril whats he on about" asked a worried Compo, he continued "I'm not motor biking, you can forget that." " it just a technical issue we have to sort out in Batley" replied Blamire." When we get the next bus I'll open the sealed orders for a fuller briefing" added Leading Seaman Avery. " Oh Norm I think we've been had" squirmed Compo as he turned to look at Clegg. Nora came down from upstairs chuntering," Oh! you've got here then. I'll give you returns because I know you'll mind how you go and your all to daft to come to any harm." " You know, I like a woman in uniform, such a comfort to us fighting men" said Avery. " Tha'll be fighting me if you tickle my bird's ticket machine" shouted an agitated Compo." Calm down, Calm down if there's any fighting on this bus it'll be with me and my brush, its got a new head on it for the Christmas rush, so pack it in. Save your energy, your gonna need it." Yelled Nora who wasn't phased by the thought of two men fighting over her.That said she headed back upstairs with someones change. Looking out of the window Cleggy could see the lights of Batley Market and the tram shed. Tram shed! he thought, we've gone back to 1914, it was pulled down in 1915 for a munitions factory. By the heck! were going to the Western Front. No wonder Nora didn't want to sell us return tickets." Blamire! Blamire are you taking us to the Western Front, you've tricked us again, you'll have us blown to bits, He'll have us blown to bits" he whelped at Compo." Calm down, Calm down, you won't be blown to bits. Would I take you lot into serious danger, I mean HE! still owes me a fiver and this brave Captain will explain why, when we open the secret orders." Blamire said reassuringly as he turned to Cleggy. The bus turned into the market square and stopped. Blakey opened the doors and shouted "Change here for the Western Front, Howards charabanc over by the market cross" he laughed again and said " Get your flipping helments". "A charabanc tour of the western front is just what anyone needs to be reassured their not being led into danger in 1914." hysterically cried Cleggy. " It'll be alright Norm, like he said, I owe him a fiver, he'll not get us involved in anything dangerous, well what I really mean is life threatening." said Compo to Cleggy very sympathetically." You know I can't do women and dangerous, especially on the same day." winced Cleggy. " Oh! it'll be me doing the dangerous, it always is" squawked Compo." Come on team, gather round" encouraged Avery as they stood by the charabanc. Avery had changed into his field uniform as the rank of Captain, a tall dark and handsome as he ushered the team under the street lamp to brief them. He pointed to the trunk on the pavement and told them that there were great coats and helmets for them as it might get a bit colder later as it was now 01:00 hours, the 24th Decemember 1914 with snow expected. There was a clatter and clanging as they sorted through the trunk to find the gear to fit them. An helmet, a great coat, boots and a water bottle containing Woods 100% proof to build spirits. Stood underneath the street lamp, their breath vapours rising, Compo wafting his arms to keep out the cold shouted from under his tin helmet, " come on Nelson! tell us the plan, whats the game, come on." " Settle down now lads, our mission is to get important information to a certain german officer who can change the course of this war. I have this information which I obtained from a Lord Dolby BSc.CE. earlier, before I attended his wifes funeral yesterday." explained Avery. "Lord Dolby, isn't he something big in biscuits? he has a big factory in Batley and letters after his name." asked Clegg."Thats correct, you see, the team is functioning already, a canny brain that man." replied Avery. Compo chirped,"Whats biscuits got to do with western front" "All will be come clear as I will explain when we get moving." gestured Avery towards the charabanc.
They proceeded in line to board the vehicle. The driver stood on the pavement and greeted them as they climbed aboard," good evening gentlemen, I am Francis your driver for today, hope you will enjoy your trip." Silence, not a word was said by the team." oooo! please yourselves." said Francis as he climbed into the drivers seat " just think, I could have had a job in variety" he chuntered. The team sat at the back on the charabanc, pulling their great coat collars up to keep out the chill. Cleggy was glad he had put his heavy raincoat on too. Compo was a bit drafty around the trousers as Blamire had sensed and once again criticised his holey attire as he offered out the cigarettes." There's always something soothing about a cigarette when in certain situations one would find oneself in" stated Avery. " Its even more soothing if they are someone else's" laughed Compo. " I can't decide whether having cold feet or a hot cup of Sid's tea is worse." stated Cleggy. " I'd settle for the warm company of Anne Shelton. Her real name was Patricia you know." replied Blamire. " You would'nt be on first name terms then" teased Clegg. "No I would always respect her as Anne." mused Blamire. In the distance a single light could be seen and as they drew nearer it became the shape of a building with several lights on. "We are here, Le Petite Cafe, our base camp" pointed Avery. "Jump to it lads, refreshments and warmth. Will you bring my kitbag Compo theres stuff we need in there." asked Avery. "Of course I will mon Capitan, you get them in." Compo brusquely replied."Apres vu mon ami" Cleggy indicated to Compo to go first. "Less of the french were not in the EU now" coarsely shouted Blamire.
Captain Avery pushed open the cafe door into a dimly lit room. There were several tables covered with chequered cloths. The tables were spread randomly around the room with more of an abundance of them down the side of the large cafe window. The letters on the glass read backwards "CAFE REN IE". Compo who was twisting his head to read and decipher the lettering, read out loud " Cafe Rene, I went out with a bird called Rene, her dad didnt like me though. He knew my Uncle Geoff. They were in Armley together." "Its RENNIE" piped up the propietor, " you english might say, as a mint for indigestion." he quipped rolling his eyes." Cafe Indigestion, I wonder if he's related to him at the Epidemic Fisheries." asked Clegg. Compo chirped up, "hey mister! you've got an 'N' missing." " Yes and thats why there's a shortage of eggs for breakfast." replied the propietor as he shut the door ushering them to a table by the window. " Can I get you some house wine, a coffee perhaps, its a little early for breakfast. Seven thirty usually the wife serves the croissants." I'll try a coffee perhaps, with one sugar" replied Cleggy. " make that coffee perhapsies all round." interjected Blamire lighting up a cigarette. The propietor cleaned an ashtray and pushed it on to the table,he turned his head towards the bar and shouted "Edee! quatre cafe au lait."
Whilst they were waiting for their Coffee perhapsies, Avery said pointing to Compo " that kitbag there, delve in and get me that big book." " eee! Norm its just like Christmas, opening a big sock" laughed Compo as he pulled out the big book. Avery took the book from Compo and opened it at page 33. There was a full page photograph of a football team. He put the book down on the table and pointed to the man in the middle of the line up. "There thats our man, Albert Von Klinkerlien, Inside right for Eindleggan United. Now Major Von Klinkerlien, Third Battalion Gazzen Warfaren." "Gazzen warfaren smells a bit iffy to me" said Cleggy. "If we have to give him some information, would it be to DO! with Gazzen Warfaren" burrowed Blamire. " In a way Yes" reproached Captain Avery. Frowning he continued, " We know that the enemy will use Gazzen Warfaren at some point because Von Klinkerlien is at the front to evaluate and determine the time and method of deployment. He saw what happend when the French used tear gas earlier this year and how effective it was. He is of an old military family, gentlemans code and all that, so he does oppose using it. Our aim is to help Major Von Klinkerlien slow down the development of the use of gas until our forces can be more equipped to defend against it." The propietor returned from the kitchen with a tray of drinks." Four Cafe au laits, thats with milk and one with sugar. Would you gentlemen require something to eat. Croissants will be warmed and ready in two minutes, or we have some biscuits the last lot of tommies left. I keep them in a tin at the bar." " Pass the tin over here then and lets have a look, there might be a fig biscuit in there." said an elated Cleggy. The propietor, a tall rotund chap, dark balding, with a moustache of substance glided over to the bar to pick up the biscuit tin. He removed the lid as he approached their table revealing the tins contents." oo! look a fig for me" gushed Cleggy. "I'll have a couple of ginger nuts " requested Blamire." Thats true" seconded Compo."But I think I'll try one of those crossydants" he added." "If your good lady should have a chocolate croissant with a spoon of honey I would be must grateful for that small blessing" obsequiously replied the Captain. The propietor unpretentiously replied " certainly sir, we are here to please." " I say, did you see who's biscuits they were, Dolbys of Batley, there must have been some Yorkshire tommies through." butted in Blamire to break the tension.
The propietor responded with "Thats right sir, from Gods own Country, a place called Brighouse. They spoke about rent men. The bravest men in Yorkshire because apparently whatever befalls them they get back up into the fight. Like one of those terrier dogs that never let go of your ankles. They said a regiment of rent men would have it all over by Christmas. Well its the 25th tomorrow." " He's right Norm, my mother use to throw our rent man across the street every Friday, but sure enough he'd be back the following week." chirped Compo as his mouth struggled to contain the flakey croissant. Cleggy thought for moment and replied," I should imagine if they could have had tin helmets they would have had more success, especially up Abattoir Street. They should have a National Rent Man Day in commemoration of all the lost rent. A momumental door knocker in every town." "Lets have a coffee and a tot before we walk up to the playing field." suggested Avery. " Playing field, don't you mean the trenches?" coughed Blamire putting his cig out. " No! all will be clear once we get up there." responded Avery sharply.
They bustled out into the street. In the day light they could see the shell damage from the german artillery. The buildings didn't look habitable but there were people going about their buisness, carrying on with their daily lives, adjusting and evolving into the ever undesiring situation. Sharply, Captain Avery barked, " Get your helmets on lads, its the 24th we don't want any injuries now." They rounded a corner to an open expanse of snow to the right, to the left was the outcrop of the allied trench, the front, the western front, here in Ypres. They climbed down into a lookout post and peered over the sandbags. There was a wooden board with the words "WELCOME TO WIPERS" pivoted on the rear wall of the trench.
There was silence, this position had a commanding wide view where groups of soldiers of both sides were searching through the newly fallen snow for newly fallen comrades or those lucky enough to be wounded but not so comforting for those that were dying.There was a stench of death, mud and blood." Bloody hell" gasped Compo. " I knew it were bad but this brings it home" whispered a tear choked Clegg. " I saw some sights when I was in India but nothing like this, ye gods! the war to end all wars and what did we do. People get above their station and look what happens. Once a paper and decorator! stay a decorator." infuriated Blamire. Captain Avery put his hand on Blamire's shoulder and comfortingly said " I've seen things from many ages and times, but this always gets me. Thats why today we might have a chance to reduce some of this suffering. Come lads lets have a tot and bless 'em all." " I'll drink to that" Choked Compo.
Out of the silence a single voice shouted " hey tommie, a christmas knockwurst for you", followed by a flying german sausage landing in front of the trench. "Merry Christmas to you too Fritz" yelled a tommie as two tins of corned beef flew over to the german trench. "Thats why we need these tin hats" laughed Compo, as sausages and tins of corned beef rained down along the front. Shouts of Merry Christmas and Frohe Weihnachten! abounded. Unable to contain himself Blamire cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted " Merry Christmas to the bloody lot of you and God bless you all." " And I'll drink to that Blamire me old mate" replied Clegg.
Captain Avery pointed to the right and said " tomorrow there will be a football match, thats when we go into action. Yes action, your asking where do we come in?" The three of them looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders." Whats he mean Norm" gaped Compo. " I think were going to a football match" cringed Cleggy. " Lets retreat from this hail of Christmas tide goodies and set our plan in the cafe" said Avery in a very light hearted 100% proof manner. They started to walk back to the village in the dwindling light and flurries of falling snow. A mouth organ could be heard distantly playing a christmas carol, mens voices humming to the tune, a lone tenor singing the words " Silent Night" all is calm, all was calm. The cafe door rang its bell as they entered. The propietor had found a christmas tree and some old decorations trimmed it up. " Good evening gentlemen, drinks on the house to start and a table by the window I think." an enthused propietor ushering them to a table. "Thank you my good man and may we have a menu" recipricated Blamire. " There's no Menu sir, its Duck a l'orange and Chocolate souffle." responded the owner. "Orange ducks! wait until I tell Wally, he'll never believe me" said Compo as he took a guzzle of wine " Ahhh, I hope its better than this vino" he laughed. They received their meal and dined in a quiet melancholy manner, reflecting on what they had seen today. Blamire was trying to set the standards of etiquette, by using his knife and fork to dissect the duck meat from the bones, both little fingers outstretched as a symbol of pretentious elegance. Opposite him sat Compo,picking up the duck leg to eat it with his fingers, tearing of the succulent flesh with his good tooth." haw! look at him, he'll need more than a finger bowl when he's finished, infact we'll need a bath, look at this duck sauce all over the place." complained Blamire. " That were great, I could eat it again Norm, especially that choclate pudding." enthused Compo. Cleggy replied, " If your going to eat it again, now that you've had a practice run, perhaps you could get it all in your mouth next time." Compo laughed and shouted " Right! who's turn for the ciggies then." They all lit up from a single match and ordered some more wine. Breathing in his cigarette smoke Captain Avery said to Compo " pass that big book again and lets make a plan of action." The table had been cleared, only their glasses of wine remained along with two ashtrays.
Captain Avery opened the book again and said," we known about Von Klinkerlien, but the spanner in the wheel is this fellow here" he pointed to the man at the left side of the line up."He's Ludovic Flukenstien, now head of the german military security. He was Von Klinkerlien's best friend at college and will have dinner with him tomorrow. If he plays in the game then we will have to make sure he does not see anything that will incriminate Von Klinkerlien."
" So whats the underhand scheme to ensure Ludovic doesn't get curious about his old mucker Albert." said an intrigued Cleggy " Firstly, We take control of the match. Compo will be referee" explained Avery. " Great, do I have a whistle, you won't shout obscenities at me will you." laughed Compo. Blamire said to him, " Your really up for this arn't you." " Of course I am, all those times those refs have deprived me of my eight draws, its pay back time." responded a jubilant Compo." Thats the spirit" added Avery,he continued " your job Compo will be to lure Von Klinkerlien into a foul by Big George Wallside, full back for the allies." "How will we know Big George" uttered Cleggy. " With a surname like Wallside I think he might be pretty obvious," remarked Blamire. Avery continued the plan, "Klinkerlien will try to tackle Wallside who will fall on to Klinkerlien, resulting in him needing medical attention. This is where you two come in as stretcher bearers to sponge him down. Cleggy you will be the sponger, Blamire you will slip the envelope containing the secret information into Klinkerlien's shorts. Wallside will try to prevent Flukenstien from seeing anything by blocking his view. Compo will declare Klinkerlien unfit and send him for an early bath. Once out of the game Klinkerlien will deal with his side of the plan. Any questions?" Cleggy timidly raised his hand " sponge down, I' m not really into sponging someone else down, it sounds a bit Turkish bathish. Could I just hand him a damp cloth for his own use." "Play it by ear Clegg, assess the situation, needs must when need arises." replied Avery.
Blamire piped up, " What worries me is, will Klinklien be wearing underpants, as you know there is a certain calibre of undergarment in this vicinity which no man should ever have to come in contact with." "Inside his shorts there should be an inner pocket to place the envelope and of course he will be wearing his continental jockeyshorts." rebuffed Captain Avery. "The time of the match is a 09:30 kick off tomorrow, but now lets enjoy our wine and the rest of the evening." relented the Captain. Compo chirped, " I wonder if the propietor's wife is musical." " What makes you think that." quizzed Blamire. " There's something about her legs that remind me of a grand piano" replied Compo dryly. "She might be his Steinway and thats what matters." endeared Cleggy. "Aye thats true Norm, very true." sighed Compo. "Million dollar legs, I remember those. They seemed to like painting them on the sides of aircraft." reminisced Blamire. "Legs eleven, Bingo caller from Bolton, whoops! I was thinking aloud." indulged the Captain.The night hazed on as they sat in the warmth and dozed off now and again. A cockeral woke up Compo, who saw the propietor mooching around the tables clearing the last of the late drinkers glasses and taking orders for breakfast. Compo elbowed Cleggy, " Hey Norm, I just thought, I'm gonna need a black shirt." " Wrong war, but I admire your enthusiasm." yawned Cleggy. " He means some referee's attire, something that will make him stand out when presiding over the game. All though the way he dresses he stands out way above the rest of us and shoud be stood outside, out of elbow range." butted in Blamire lighting a Players. " I have an idea " chirped Avery, " Garcon, ce vous plaise." he summond the propietor. " We need something black, a jacket, jumper, or a blouse, something of authority." Avery explained to the propietor. " I'm not wearing a blouse, King or country be blowed. I dont want any funny looks thank you." griped Compo." Jockeys wear silks and you look for them every day" quipped Cleggy. " Aye! and I think sometimes the horses would do a lot better without them" squirmed Compo. " The ones you back usually do" laughed Blamire.
The propietor returned explaining, " this is the best I can do". He held up a black waiters tail coat. They all looked at Compo and together they laughed, "Just the job." They all gave him assistance to don the garment. Cleggy remarked, " You know something me old mate, you wouldn't look out of place at the Flying Horse, doing all that fancy waitering. This is probably the nearest you've ever been to a days work." " Aw, thanks Norm, I like to do my bit" impudently laughed Compo. Cleggy and Blamire slipped on their red cross armbands, Avery passed the secret envelope to Blamire and together they left the cafe. Blamire secured the envelope in his inside overcoat pocket as they walked up to the field. Coming towards them was Big George who didn't need any introduction. He saw the armbands and made a bee line for Cleggy and Blamire. " Hey Up lads, I think we got a good day for it, It'll be a reet champion match, lets hope you don't have to use these too often." he grated in an east coast accent as he handed over a stretcher and first aid bag. " I'm right looking forward to it. 'av not had a mulluck since we left Hull. You can't beat a good knock about." he continued throatily. " I'm George Wallside, my mates call me Big Wallside, cos I'm big, I guess." " Thanks Big" replied a sheepishly Cleggy as he passed the strecther to Blamire who nodded as he hoisted it up to his shoulder. Slipping the strap of the first aid bag over his head he turned to Blamire and quipped, " You wouldn't want him sat in front of you at the Roxy." " Aye but its a shame, cos he'll make a hell of a target" replied a remorseful Blamire. Big George turned around and they followed him up the hill to the field.
The football teams began to assemble, they had conjured up some team strips, white for the Allies, mainly vests and long johns. The Germans had a red and white strip, made from beetroot sacking and white long johns. The teams ran around limbering up, Compo joined in at the center of the field doing his knee bends and pogo jumps. He looked around to identify Von Klinkerlien. It wasn't hard. There were just two professionals on that field, the second one being Fluckenstein. They wore football boots and had cotton shorts over their long johns, they even had their club scarves on around their necks. As Compo did his warm up exercises, catching Cleggy's and Blamires attention he pointed them out. Klinkerlien had a number 7 on his back and Fluckenstein had a number 5. As Blamire noted the number of the conspirator he remarked, " Its a good job old tatty pants doesn't have a number on, or you would think he was part of the Yorkshire Formation Dance Team." Compo looked at the watch Avery had lent him and blew his whistle indicating the teams to take their side of play. The Germans had won the toss, so they played from the right.
Everywhere hands were shaken, Compo blew his whistle, game on.
Within 10 minutes of the start, The Allies took the lead after some brilliant combined work by the forwards. Captain Kelly made an opening for Private Wallace to run down and centre the ball to Sargent Hitchcock, who scored very cleverly from a position almost under the makeshift crossbar. Three minutes later Germany drew level. The pace of Von Klinkerlien had previously threatened danger, and it was from one of his runs that Fluckenstein was enabled to score. This goal was followed by a series of hot attacks upon the Allied goal, and three minutes later another brilliant movement by Kelly and Wallace enabled the latter to put the ball into the goal-mouth, and Hitchcock dashed in and did the rest. Compo blew for half time and came over to his oppo's. "Give us a fag, I'm knackered." he gasped. Avery stepped in with an eager enthusiastic team talk," right lads its two one, but thats not the aim here. we've got to get Klinkerlien down. I've had a word with kelly he's going to make a play down this wing. Cleggy when he passes you throw your kit bag at his legs. Nobody will see because Big George will be covering him.Then the rest as planned. Ok lets go go go!."
Compo blew his whistle, 12 minutes after the restart Klinkerlien passed to Fluckenstein, who eluded the backs and sent in a shot that glanced off the goal-post into the net. Then another goal came 10 minutes later; Klinkerlien outpaced the defence, and, from his centre, Blucher transferred the ball to Fluckenstein, who scored the finest goal of the match...The score stood at three two to Germany and time was running out. The Allies equalised after seventeen minutes' play. Corporal Pennington placed the ball from a free-kick across the field, and Kelly, having dribbled neatly in order to find an opening, shot clear of Heinricht into the net.
Heinricht's wonderful goalkeeping kept the English forwards out until the last six minutes, but Kelly then intercepted a centre by Fluckenstein who was playing his best. Klinkerlien made an heroic effort to tackle, and was damaged in the collision with Kelly. He was down on the field, Compo blew his whistle indicating for medical assistance. Big George moved into blocking position, as Blamire and Cleggy came over to tend to Klinkerlien. Cleggy took the sponge out of his bag and began sponging down Klinkerlien's leg, whimpering, " I'm awfully sorry mein Herr, this isn't how I usually behave in company but needs must." Blamire rolled Klinkerlien over and slipped his hand into his shorts to place the envelope in the inner pocket. " Excuse me old boy but this will have to be quick." expressed an embarrassed Blamire. Klinkerlien looked at Blamire and half smiled with a wink, " Its ok englishman, the germanic people are not as conservative as you, feel free to do what you must." Blamire coughed and spluttered " The deed is done Herr Klinkerlien, besides I'am besotted with Anne Shelton." Blamire stood and signaled to Avery it was done. Compo shouted " Come on is he fit, we got a good match going on here." Cleggy nodded "yes" and Compo Blew to restart.
The game became more open after this, and, in the course of a German attack, Fluckenstein put the ball back with the intention of leaving Klinkerlien an easy clearance. Instead, the ball rolled slowly and Kelly dashed up to tackle, first the full back and then Muller, who had run out of goal. Kelly and goalkeeper both stumbled, but Kelly kept his feet, got the ball from Mullers hands, and proceeded to kick through an open goal... Compo blew the final whistle but disallowed the goal as it was after the whistle. It was a drawn game and both sides shouted obscenities at the referee as Compo picked up the ball and walked off the field shaking his head. As he approached Blamire and Cleggy they asked him why he had not allowed that last goal. " Look" he said " If I cant pick my draws on the pools, I'm damn sure I 'am gonna pick them if I'm in charge." With that the Yorkshire Formation Dance Team marched of the field.
They stood with Avery in the lookout post, Blamire had flashed the ciggies around. Avery drew on his Player and said " Well chaps I've got to leave you now, there's a lady waiting for a chimney putting on an old bus. I said I'd help her with it. Then its down to see Mother in Whitehall, a new recruit to break in. James somebody or other. it appears there's a Doctor in Russia causing a bit of bother but I don't think there will be any love lost there. Its all hush hush. Anyway lads I must be off. Perhaps we will meet again. If we do can you make sure he gets some new trousers." He picked up his kitbag and climbed up out of the lookout and folded into the dropping mist.
Looking out on to no mans land Cleggy pointed to the wooden crosses further afield. " Do you see that Compo, there's more than one hundred crosses and you don't need to study where their eyes are looking because they have all got them closed."
" I wonder what the information was that we passed over" quizzed Blamire. " Well old Dolby only ever made biscuits, his grandmother used to make a lovely custard tart, she sold them at' Saturday market all year round." said a very informative Compo. " Thats it" chirped Cleggy, " Perhaps old Dolby has passed on his grandmothers secret custard tart recipe. When the germans try to make the gas it turns out to be custard instead of mustard." Blamire replied " If only we could wish that was true." " I'm wishing" croaked Compo.
They climbed out of the lookout post and made their way back to the road. Blakey was there with his Huddersfield Special. He opened the doors as they approached and shouted to them," Did you need your helmets then?" " Aye we did " they replied in unison. " I tell them every year" he groaned. " you tell who every year? Blakey." insisted Cleggy. "The fans, ever since he had that Christmas Hit song, that beetle fellow from Liverpool, whats his name, Ringo Macartney." droned Blakey. " Imagine that, coming all the way from Liverpool to meet those Yorkshire rent men. I think they would need some peace pipes come closing time." laughed Cleggy. The Hudderfield Special pulled into the high street and the trio alighted. Cleggy turned to the other two and said " Before we go to the White Horse lets go by the War Memorial and say a thank you to those lads who couldn't watch the match today and have a look for an Harry" "I'd like to say a prayer and thank them, Harry who?" choaked Blamire. "My Uncle Cedric's mate" replied Cleggy. "Tomorrow why don't we go and see if we can get a custard tart." squawked Compo. " Don't forget its Boxing Day and we all know what sort of tarts you end up with." cribbed Blamire fastening his overcoat. " My stove will be out" brisked Cleggy. " Hey! its snowing" said Compo as they walked up to the High Street." Ivy does a tasty stuffed turkey but Sid always roasts the spuds. Its his signature dish, he insists." enthused Cleggy.
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