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The Kia ora coo-ee : the magazine for the ANZACS in the Middle East, 1918


G.E J.: We were camped at Richon at the time, and wallads and bints came around selling "orangees, beeg ones-two for half", gleaning rags or seeking backsheech. Well, a big New Zealand parcel mail had just lobbed in, and Segt. Blank was lucky enough to land a huge affair (about the size of a whale's ear—if it has one), enclosed in a calico wrapper, on which his name, number, etc., were printed in bold capitals—the work of some adoring flapper. This wrapper was pushed out of the bivvy during the scramble, and was duly pounced upon by a wallad. There was much unseemly laughter next morn at stables, when said wallad stalked unconcernedly through the lines, his ragged blue robe decorated with a beautiful white patch bearing the legend "No. ooo, Segt. Blank", etc. The Sergeant went crook!