My ol' Mother told a story of the Battle of Britain in which there was a radio broadcaster who was broadcasting from London even while it was being bombed. Without fail, he started every broadcast with, "You've got to larf."
- Insert your own editorial on what Nigel Farage and BREXIT did to British pride -
There's another story from the Titanic when the orchestra knew there were no seats for them on lifeboats so they resolved to play until the last. Their conductor said before starting, "Be British."
The story about the Titanic I'm reasonably sure is true but I have tried to verify the radio broadcaster simply to locate his name and express my admiration for flipping off Hitler in such a wonderful way but I have not had any luck with that. I tried again just now as I thought the misspelling with 'larf' might have thrown off the search but still no luck.
My ol' Mother was not at all given to prevarication although my ol' Dad would cheerfully exaggerate a story so much a mouse could turn into a polar bear. He told some great stories, tho, but so did my Mother as both had experienced so many extraordinary things. Her stories were historical recountings, for example of her life as a child in China in the early 1920's. My ol' Dad's storytelling story was quite different and his would go all over the place but both told great ones.
Sometimes he would gather the kids around in the evening and turn down the lights so much he only had enough to read and then he would start telling us stories about Mowgli and Rikki Tikki Tavi or anything from Kipling's "Jungle Book." He loved to add the drama he could to the telling and the kids loved it. He was really in his element with doing this.
My style with storytelling is a melding of theirs since I like giving a historical recounting of things and I like tall tales as well but I don't like them when there's any aspect of deception to them.
The story remains an unresolved mystery but I love the spirit of people who live this and with so much the thinking if you're not living until you're dying then likely you're already dead.
There's some possibility my cuz has an angle on the story but my Uncle Bobby was in tanks in North Africa for WWII so he may not have ever heard the broadcaster. Maybe the story is like part of jigsaw puzzle one can't ever find but it's charming to me that the story exists at all.
As to the balls of tankers, my ol' Dad said when a round hit the tank just right, the tank would 'brew' which meant it started a fire inside which would kill everyone in it. Holy shit!
There's no comic twist to wrap this since all if it is so far beyond my own experience it's almost tough to believe any of it was real, just as it may be for all post-WWII people.
- Insert your own editorial on what Nigel Farage and BREXIT did to British pride -
There's another story from the Titanic when the orchestra knew there were no seats for them on lifeboats so they resolved to play until the last. Their conductor said before starting, "Be British."
The story about the Titanic I'm reasonably sure is true but I have tried to verify the radio broadcaster simply to locate his name and express my admiration for flipping off Hitler in such a wonderful way but I have not had any luck with that. I tried again just now as I thought the misspelling with 'larf' might have thrown off the search but still no luck.
My ol' Mother was not at all given to prevarication although my ol' Dad would cheerfully exaggerate a story so much a mouse could turn into a polar bear. He told some great stories, tho, but so did my Mother as both had experienced so many extraordinary things. Her stories were historical recountings, for example of her life as a child in China in the early 1920's. My ol' Dad's storytelling story was quite different and his would go all over the place but both told great ones.
Sometimes he would gather the kids around in the evening and turn down the lights so much he only had enough to read and then he would start telling us stories about Mowgli and Rikki Tikki Tavi or anything from Kipling's "Jungle Book." He loved to add the drama he could to the telling and the kids loved it. He was really in his element with doing this.
My style with storytelling is a melding of theirs since I like giving a historical recounting of things and I like tall tales as well but I don't like them when there's any aspect of deception to them.
The story remains an unresolved mystery but I love the spirit of people who live this and with so much the thinking if you're not living until you're dying then likely you're already dead.
There's some possibility my cuz has an angle on the story but my Uncle Bobby was in tanks in North Africa for WWII so he may not have ever heard the broadcaster. Maybe the story is like part of jigsaw puzzle one can't ever find but it's charming to me that the story exists at all.
As to the balls of tankers, my ol' Dad said when a round hit the tank just right, the tank would 'brew' which meant it started a fire inside which would kill everyone in it. Holy shit!
There's no comic twist to wrap this since all if it is so far beyond my own experience it's almost tough to believe any of it was real, just as it may be for all post-WWII people.
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