A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing

French was the common language of the inhabitants of New Caledonia. With the arrival of our unit, the men did their utmost to master a few of the common phrases, but their vocabulary was almost non-existent. One day two members of B echelon were driving in a truck across the property of one of the local residents. They had not gone far when the owner came striding across to the truck looking very angry. The driver, equal to the occasion, thought he would give the Frenchman a hearty greeting to see if that would have any effect.

'Bon jour, monsieur,' he said.

Imagine the surprise he received when the following reply came.

'Bon jour, my ruddy posterior, get to hell off my land!' The French resident was an Englishman!