Edwin Rommel

Karry on--- nozzink to zhee here Red.....

Kreative juizez?? You do not have to read it you know....

As the last of the Hellcats turn back towards the Black Oyster the pilot notices a movement in the bushes on the tip of the peninsula.... 'Oh-- bugger-- a carpet moth... what to do--- what to do..." Desperately looking at the waking moth far below, the pilot racks his brain for a possible solution. Something tries desperately to break through.... then he remembers-- Training Film 8-155! What was it again--- something about personal hygiene and safe sex---- what was it again.... Ah--- that's right--- always have a can-doom nearby!!!! Quickly he scratches around in the cockpit.... AH-- here it is...... He turns the Hellcat on it's back in a screaming dive towards the carpet moth... He opens the cockpit and as he passes over the moth, he loosens a sustained burst of spray at the moth. The insecticide has an immediate effect-- as the Hellcat fades towards the horizon the moth thrashes around in it's death throes.... This struggling causes a small earthquake.......

Ohhhh Fluck--- a carpet moth!

“Himmel- vhot iz zhat on zhe horizon?” Crusoe pulls an old fashioned telescope from his shoulder bag and looks in the direction Rommel is pointing. He hands it to Friday who first tries to look through it and then just holds his hand to his brow in the classical thousand yard stare… “Yo man- dat be a lot of men on a small heap of turf” As the “runway” slowly drifts towards the humanity packed island it becomes clear that the people are standing on each other’s shoulders, sometimes 3 high, to avoid the shark infested sea. “Everybody grabben zhomevhot to row with und let uz try to get zhere before zhe tide rizez even higher unt drow zhe vhole lot uf zhem….”

Hang in there Arch-- every time this happens we are reminded about our own mortality-- and that sucks a bit, but let us enjoy every day we have here to the full, do what we can and especially, love our wifes and family----

CM-- maybe you should azken fur ein "Schpell Checker" program!

“OK – Black flight--- here is the new plan---“ After some minutes of serious radio communication the Avengers pull into line astern formation and approaching Chi-Chi-Jima from a new direction, their bomb bay doors open… “Black Flight--- carpet bombing--- target, that drawing of a bull’s eye around the shot tower…. Tally Ho!” “2- Horrido!” “3- Ole!” “4- Red Hot Mamma!” “5- SKol!” “6- Bravo!” One after the other the Avengers release their bombs at the shot tower target in a carpet bombing pattern…. As the tumbling bombs approach their target the carpets deploy and cover the trenches and conch shell shards. The acidic carpet glue eats through the Komodo dragon’s tethers and bonds that bind the captives to the shot tower. Since Komodo dragons are not interested in sessile prey they ignore the captives. In the ensuing bloody but brief fight between the dragons and the trembling soldiers not a man or dragon remains standing. Fortunately, the last stick of carpet bombs cover the gory remains of the battle scene and the very last carpet bomb explodes just above the slumbering trio, covering them and thereby effectively camouflaging them from any search parties in the near future- since one Persian carpet looks much like the next- not true?…. Their task completed, the Avengers having avenged a script change head back to the Black Oyster…..

Avenger 5 and 6 pull their "event re-arrangement" levers, the tumbling bombs stop in mid-air, and tumbles back into their respective positions in the Avenger Bomb bays and the bomb bay doors close. "Err--- Black leader, Heinkill changed the script-- what shall we bomb now?"

Haf guut vhon-- hope you feel better Stanz!

By the way Stans--- that last time you pizzed on the CM seems to have vhorked!!!

Gently approaching the end of the runway since all the nav-aids had been switched off and with no exact indication of height, as well as with one engine out due to fuel starvation……. they land---- technically speaking, they stop flying. The Ventura slides along the wet runway of the partly deflated floating airfield, destroying a stockade in the process and flinging several packing crates and other rubbish out of it’s way. It finally comes to a stop near the far-end of the runway, close to a decrepit looking shack. From behind the shack a nearly naked Filipino peeks out. Behind him a white haired man sits on the side of the airfield, feet in the water, fishing… The engines, now completely out of fuel, shudder to a halt. Romel switches off and after loosening his shoulder belts stretches in the seat before getting out of the aircraft. As he jumps down the Filipino quickly moves to the fisherman and tries to hide behind him. The old man slowly gets to his feet and walks towards Rommel--- he holds out his hand in a friendly gesture…. Rommel takes the offered hand and shakes it… “Feldmarschall Edwin Rommel—pleased to meet you” “The pleasure is mutual, am I sure—My name is Crusoe, Robinson Crusoe, and this here is my companion Friday—we have been stranded on an island for a long time, only to be rescued by this strange craft we are standing on, just to be abandoned again when the others left…. they said something about us complicating the plot of their story too much…” “Ach Himmel—and zhey left you here to die?” “No—we can look after ourselves very well—years of practice you see… but if you are Rommel, then I have a message for you…” “Yes?” “The master of this vessel told me to tell you that he is waiting for you--- and that you are welcome to use his shack when you arrive--- he was expecting you- that is his shack over there” Rommel walks towards the shack, notices the name on the door, and slowly pushes the door open--- he has a moment to see the macabre pictures of himself and the dagger pushed into his eye, before he notices a grenade fly-off lever hanging from a piece of string tied to the door he has just opened. “DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” As the crew falls down Rommel drags Crusoe down with him--- the hut explodes in a bright flame, sending pieces of metal and wooden spars flying all over….

“Black Flight 1 to base- target in sight, commencing run-in” “Click” “Jolly Flight- top cover- Black flight, weapons free- follow me” “2” “3” “4” “5” “6” “5 and 6- target that group on the beach” “5” “6” The two designated Avengers swing slightly left of the flight. In unison their bomb bay doors open and after some seconds a line of black eggs drop towards the group on the beach far below

Trust you haf private nurze az vhell ja?

150 miles south west of Chi-Chi-Jima. The early morning sunlight reflects from the spinning props of the flight of Hellcats and just behind them Avengers awaiting take-off from the Black Oyster (ex-Yorktown). As the wind freshens from the prow the first two Hellcats, well weighed down by the 1000 pounders slung under their centerlines, struggle into the air. Twenty minutes later, the whole group is in the air and turns towards Chi-Chi-Jima while slowly climbing to 15 000 feet…. All national markings on the aircraft are painted out. In their place all the aircraft sports the Jolly Roger logo and the “Morituri Nolumus Mori”slogan. On the bridge Barbosa and Schwalbe follows the flight as their disappear towards the horizon. “Joachim--- I believe we will be able to wipe out the garrison in a few days and then use Chi-Chi as base…” “Ja—zhiz iz pozzible—Ich haf heard zhat Kuribayashi iz up to scheiss unt it schould be kweit easy to over-run zhe island.” Schwalbe turns towards the coxswain--- “30 degreez port, half ahead” The Coxwain relays the message down a nearby voice pipe… After a while the pipe replies… “Huccken Faringi!”

Hang in there--- if you feel like puking, wait until the patient's mouth is open.... saves the mess on the floor....

He haz to get in line-- a group of Japanese tourists were here firzt....

ZHo--- zhe AMI weather even made zhe internazional newz! Vho'z rezponzible fur global vharmink zhen??

Nah-- vhy you azk?

Pity about zhe Kamelz...........

Hablo Espanol?

“Verdamt—zhiz bloody plaze…. Vhere zhe hell iz Zhaipan…. All zhzi bloody water unt more vhater…. No roadz und fencez unt hedgez--- juzt bloody vhater…. You haf to be mad to fight over zhiz!” Having obviously overshot their intended landing place, Rommel and the crew of the Ventura are becoming nervous. The needles on the fuel gauges are all hovering at a point past the empty mark, and just now number 2 engine coughed an out of fuel cough…. “HERR ROMMEL!!! LOOK ZHERE!!!!!” Far below them, seemingly adrift, floats the runway!!! “Verdamt--- how did zhat get here???? Shultz--- try raize zhem on zhe radio—Heinz—prepare fur zhe landing….”

Ok--- zho ich vhill remain unedukated fur zhe rezt uf mein life.....

Errrrr... try ozzer zhide uf Africa.... Kan you zhay Tanzania??-- No Kamelz zhere....unt Frenchmen alzo VERY scarze....

Maybe if you schpeaken LOUDLY UNT SCHLOWLY ich vhill underschtand....