already as pissed as he was every night of his life. He clutched
my arm, cunningly detaining me and supporting himself at the
same time. The winged shitbag executed a few crafty
Immelmann turns overhead without in any way losing flying
speed.
'Merdeka, Wally, how're you doing? Time for beddy-byes?'
'I was shaying to Charlie Meadows, in Blighty you got proper
househesh to live in, with proper shanny Р with lavatories that
flush properly and all that. Not like bloody Medan, Horry Р see
what I'm getting at. Curtains. Carpiss on the floor...'
I took a deep drag on my cigarette. As Wally rambled on, I
tried to listen to other conversations. My old mate Charlie
Meadows was saying, '...since we are an army of occupation,
we must conduct ourselves accordingly. There are certain laws
which armies of occupation have to follow, but we are so
bloody under strength thatР'
The mess gramophone started up. Ron Dyer was playing the
well-worn hit-record, 'Terang Boelan', and the glutinous words
drowned out what Charlie had to say. I took a deep swig from
my beer glass and sank into an armchair. Wally perched himself
on the arm without interrupting the flow of his talk. He had
even invented a way of drinking without swallowing which
allowed him to go on spouting while the liquor trickled down.
'Everyone agrees that Blighty's the cunt Р hup, sorry, the
country with the highest culture. Good roadsh. Before the war, I
was a member of the Automobile Asshociation. Well, that'sh
special to England, the Automobile Asshociation. It's all part of
the shitР'
'What shit are you on about?'
'Hup. The shituation as I shee it.'
The shitbag, infuriated by the smoke and heat of the mess,
had worked itself up to maximum speed. Making a sudden
banking turn, it dived and struck the wall just above my head
with a resounding thhhwerr-ujjjkk.
6
Fast on the wing, slow on reaction time, the shitbag hung
there for a moment, its head pressed thoughtfully against the
wall, its multitudinous members still vaguely propriocepting.
Patches of distemper and odd wing-cases flaked off at point of
impact. Then the creature dropped. It spun tangentially away
from the wall and nose-dived into my beer.
Wally noticed nothing. 'Only the British, Horry, my dear old
mate, only the British are truly shiver-shiverlised.'
'I must go in a minute, Wally. I've got a date.'
'You wouldn't call the French or the Belgiums shiverlised,
