Allo agin ol fings, as a bit late a cummin but a `appey new year 1955 ta ya awl.
Tha wevvers bin rite roar lately an weve ad a few ol frosts ta tightin up tha ol sprouts but now it's gon back ta rain agin. Tha ole suggar beet is still agoin, an if the winds rite ya can smell ole cantley - as a stink jus like a 4 day pair socks - suffin rottin.
Well ya `int `erd frum me lately an tha reasun bein is the t.a. Army as bin adoin top secret fings up at tha big ouse an were awl bin towld ta old our row till awl tha lads ave gorne.
Well ass bin a busy ole few months wiv awl them army boy's ere playin at sowldiers – an do ya know they do say that in every sowldier thars a winston chuchill a' strugglin ta git out. One o´ these `ere yung lads must a bin awl of eight foot free an ee was tha t.a. Life guard - no swimmer but ee can't half walk out a `ell of a long way. We've ad sum funny ol reports cummin back frum tha lads out on manuovers like that time Douglas Begone Brain was seen a flappin about tha big ouse, an they reckoned ee wus completely starkers wiv no clothes on ony `is shoes - ya know wot everone's athinkin - cor look at that….handmade leather shoes.
Thars bin rite shananagins wiv them t.a. Sowlders an Soft Sally an `er two ole school pals, Fanny Green an Rosie Balls. Seems a lot time as bin spent behind tha big barn flatnin grass. Ya jist ought ta see tha three on em walkin up tha road they look jist like cowboy's who've lorst thar orses. Well jist afor tha t.a. wus ready ta pack up an leave, it wus decided ta invite awl tha willages ta a dance up at tha big ouse. Tha t.a. Lad's dun sum posters for thar mess - they said " snog a dog nite up at the big house" cheeky yung buggas.
A great ole marquay wus put up in thar grounds, an thar dray made a speshul delivery on account o´ tha Duck and Ferritt bein closed so awl tha willige cud go to tha bash - cause as it wus awl free they dint terk a lot of perswadin!
Now as ya awl dew know our willige an't got many eye catchin wimmin, but wiv a bit o' powder an paint they soon look wot they an't. Tha yunger one's wiv thar new equipment arrivin daily (some more than thay wanted, but it still arrived). Some done up to tha eyes wiv so much maskarer on they ad ta frow thar hids back ta open thier eye's. Some wiv short ole scurts an lookin as though thar got sprouts tucked down thar noylons….. Well as anuff about tha gals. Tha wus a rite turnout o´ fellers they look'd rite sketches wiv thair ole demob suits trousers at half mast - make ya wonder if thair cat's died. They awl ad shiney fearces cus they'd ad a scrape an smelt suffin strong of ol' spice, ol' holburn an moth balls, awl on em a showin orff them big kippa ties – cum in handy if ya forgit ya snot rag.
Tha night began wiv a beer drinkin contest, tha last two left in it wus tha small welsh t.a. Lad Dye Larfin an Fowey. Dye won arfter downin 10 pints an fowey wus discwalified, because arter 9 pints ee ad ta pee an arfter downin nine pints is legs wun't work so we carried im out, an we ad grate problums findin is tackle – silly ole bugga ad is long john's on back ta front, fink ee must `ave put em on over `is `ead, so time we got im back yung Dye ad downed is 10th pint an Fowey wus quite moist an steamy.
It certainly wus a nite to dwell on. Tha last dance wus ta be a bet for the t.a. Lads "snog the ugly dog dance" to be juged by thair sargent "t.t." who would giv five quid to tha sowldier wiv the ugliest partnar. Awll tha girls were at the top end of the room sum asleep, sum whose bum's ad fallin asleep (cus i could ear em snorrin), sum dancin round thair `and bags like aload o owld ingins.
As tha lads waded in ta pick owt thair partnars an bring `em up to sarg "t.t" fer is approval. Ee ad is work cut out this nite ‘cause most of the wimmin in tha willage look better arter 5 pints an "t.t." e's teatotal!! Finally "t.t." `eld is `and up an pointed ta a yung lad "your'e tha winna 452 Ivor Biggin" (as a name lofty wud ave loved). Ivor Biggin ad picked Rosey Balls (tha ony fings she din't ave) she wus a gud choice - i fink `er muvver must ave ad wind wen she give birff…… well they aways say ya don't look at tha pitchures when you'r pokin thar fire!!.
Well next mornin arter tha bash it's sunday an the chuch wus full, awl tha t.a. Lads wus thar fa thair last service afore thay leave. The ole wicur wus in full flow when tha chuch doors bust open an in cum this very large wommin she wus a wearing a green `at, green coat, green shoes an green and anbag, the wicur looked over is glasses an said "ah! Fanny green i believe?" "no wicur it's the reflecshun in me green shoes!!" "now you're `ere fanny would you like a hyme?" "yes wicur !
I'll have him, an him, an him…!" that startid a few sniggers but she really brouwt tha plearce down wen tha collecshun pleart cum rouwned an she lifted er skirt an took a tanner frum tha top of `er suspender ‘s ……. 20 t.a. Lads rushed over ta git a last look at….. Ya can't beat it bor!
Well `as got rid o sum o me verbal diarohea an that'll ave ta keep ya goin till tha spring. So make haste, early ta bed early ta rise ya lucky fings.
Bye Bye Me Bewties
Do Ya Keep a Gud Lite