As we reach late 1916 on the Western Front the nearby arrival of the Madame Curie Travelling Hospital for Sexually Transmitted Diseases means that Tommy can pay a visit to Joanna. His comrades sneak him in apparently unaware that she has spent the last year banging Cossacks left, right and centre.
“Well one more won’t hurt!” she says in disgusting broken English “What your name vos again? I’ll file you under unknowns” and with that she crashes a a 9 inch thick folder onto the desk labelled Infantry. She’s a proper one, this ‘un. News reaches her that her brother’s dead like a cunt, the stupid Pole. It’s a good job as she’d probably fuck him as well given the chance.
Her brother’s dead like a cunt, the stupid Pole. It’s a good job as she’d probably fuck him as well given the chance.
She asks Tommy all his friends names so she can fuck them later . They are all there – Wingnut, Geordie, Taffy, Ricketts, Gonorrhoea, Shellshock, Spree Killing and Amputee. He leaves her with a sketch of one of his shitty birds and he doesn’t even get any action. Strange how the ones who survive are always the ones with nothing to live for.
The new British reinforcements are ridden with lice and worse many are from the North of England. The important thing is though that they haven’t lost the legendary British sense of humour and quickly the sound of laughter fills the trenches as assuredly as the stench of stale sweat, farts and old socks. They loot a piano from a terrified defenceless French family and gather around for a big old singsong. Happy times.
Meanwhile Michael the Kraut and his pals are bracing themselves for the FrancoBritish offensive and when it comes it is very offensive – offensively bad. For it is the Battle of the Somme which was intended to be a decisive British victory but instead (after some minor miscalculations from the ruling class) lead to an almighty buttfucking rarely seen in warfare before.
There’s nuff dead mans out there on both sides afterwards and Michael and Tommy have a little wander around the carnage for a game of “spot the dead friend”. Tommy packs up his little bitch book of birds. He senses mankind’s goose is cooked.
The good thing is it keeps up a steady stream of amputees for Joanna to fuck. Every cloud and all that.
The verdict: Trying hard now, getting strong now.
Marks out of 10: 5