German Diet á la Carte
You just book it, they will cook it!
Some people in Great Britain revel in the charm
of World War II and re-enactments at Hop Farm.
For them it seems to be an elevating sight
to closely watch the British and the Germans fight,
when their tough soldiers in their frightening Cruiser tanks
break massively through German lines and crush their ranks.
They love when allies carry out an air attack
while Germans viciously respond with their ack-ack.
But what all young and old spectators really like
is when their own brave forces launch their final strike,
and everybody is particularly merry
each time their valiant boys knock out a nasty Jerry.
Of late a government official had been caught
when he just inadvertently expressed the thought
that shows like these and dedicated re-enactors
could be regarded as containing crucial factors
to stabilise their modern multiracial nation
at times of economic crises and frustration.
This rather strange, odd view was very much contested
but staunch Conservatives agreed it should be tested,
This government official then explained at length
what it would really take to build up Britain’s strength.
He said their nation urgently would need a threat
that put its loyal subjects in a real cold sweat.
He also argued that to heal their social rift
one would have to employ some experts with the gift
to thoroughly instill the fear into the Brits
that they had once experienced throughout the Blitz.
And for this job – the Cabinet had to admit –
only the Germans were considered to be fit.
Some very secret consultations went ahead
within Berlin where British politicians tread
upon politically extremely dangerous ground
in the true hope that their great efforts would be crowned
by setting up some proper re-enactment shows
right in the very heartland of their former foes.
Then after more top secret talks it was agreed
that Britain’s most unusual project could proceed.
They planned to set the first true re-enactment camp
into a dark, dense forest that was cold and damp,
so that it made the mollycoddled Britons wince
and hope to be released by some good fairy prince.
Just shortly after - on the predetermined day -
the joyful British voyagers got on their way.
Some older boys, who’d joined this jolly travelling party
to reminisce about the war, looked hale and hearty,
and when the fleet of coaches had been set in motion
it seemed that they were truly driven by emotion.
The British really started to enjoy their ride
while passing though some pleasant German countryside
where buxom German Fräuleins met with cheerful shouts
when suddenly some passengers expressed first doubts
because their coaches left the proper country road
and drove into a forest with their human load.
A chap just joked: “The driver’s made a slight mistake!”
while others thought that they were stopping for a break.
Their fellow-travellers could not believe their eyes
when they - to their astonishment and great surprise -
were spotting through some thorny hedges of thick briar
tall towers close behind high fences of barbed wire.
The British tourists ended up inside that camp
where they were gruffly greeted near a wooden ramp.
Each group was introduced and handed to its warders
and instantly expected to obey their orders.
They goose-stepped all the members of that British group
to tiny khaki tents, no bigger than a coop.
The Literary Battle of Britain
All rights reserved.
A pretty bizarre satirical story of 35 verses, which finally turns out to produce a
happy ending for the British nation but which leave the British Government in a
bit of a predicament.