500 of the Best Cockney War Stories

In 1914 we of the 2nd Cavalry Brigade were going up to support the infantry somewhere near Mons, and when nearing our destination we saw several wounded being carried from the line.

Following them, seemingly quite unconcerned, was an infantry transport driver, who cut a queer figure. He was wearing a stocking hat, and was mounted on an old mule. Thrown over the mule, with the tail-end round the mule's neck, was a German's blood-bespattered overcoat.

One of our troop addressed the rider thus: "Many up there, mate?"

He answered: "Millions! You 'ave a go. We can't shift 'em. They've took root, I fink."

He then dug both heels into the mule and, looking round with a bored expression, exclaimed: "Talk about Napoleon's blinkin' retreat from Moscow, it ain't ruddy well in it wiv this!"

And he rode on. —W. Baker (late 3rd Hussars), 35 Tunstall Road, Brixton, S.W.9.

The S.M. knew "Mulese"

During the Somme offensive in 1916 I was one of a party carrying rations up to the front line. We came upon a mule which was having a few pranks and pulling the chap who was leading it all over the road.

This man turned out to be an old Cockney pal of mine in the East Surreys. I said, "Hello, Jim, what's the matter?"

"Blimey," he replied, "'e won't do nuffink for me, so I'm taking 'im back to our sergeant-major, as 'e talks the mule langwidge." —C. A. Fairhead (late R.W. Kent Regt.), 16 Council Cottages, Ford Corner, Yapton, Sussex.

Lost: One Star

We were on our way to the front line trenches one wet and dreary night when our subaltern realised that we were lost. He asked our sergeant if he could see the North Star. My Cockney pal, fed up, as we all were, turned to me and said: "Pass the word back and ask if anyone 'as got a Nawth Star in his pocket." —H. J. Perry, 42 Wells House Road, Willesden Junction, N.W.10.

Simpler than Sounding It

After leaving Gallipoli in December 1915 our battalion (4th Essex) were in camp near the pyramids in Egypt.

"Pro Tem." we reverted to peace-time routine, and brought the buglers into commission again. One bugler was making a rather rotten show at sounding the "fall-in" – his "lip" being out of practice, I suppose – when a bored Cockney roared out, "Go rahnd and tell 'em." —H. Barlow, 5 Brooklands, Abbs Cross Lane, Hornchurch.

Under the Cart

The place was a rest billet, which we had just reached after a gruelling on the Somme. Time, 12.30 a.m., dark as pitch and pouring with rain.

A despatch-rider arrived with an "urgent" message from H.Q., "Must have the number of your water-cart."

Out of bed, or its substitute, were brought the regimental sergeant-major, the orderly-room clerk, and the quartermaster-sergeant (a director of a London shipping firm bearing his name). All the light we had was the end of a candle, and as the Q.M.S. was crawling in the mud under the water-cart trying to find the number the candle flickered, whereupon the Cockney sergeant-major exclaimed: "For Heaven's sake, stop that candle from flickerin', or our blinkin' staff will think we're signalling to Jerry!"

The look on the Q.M.S.'s face as he sat in the mud made even the soaked despatch-rider laugh.

"What's the number of your water-cart?" became a byword with the boys. —W. J. Smallbone (late R.M.S., 56th Field Ambulance, 18th Division), 22 Stoneycroft Road, Woodford Bridge, Woodford Green, Essex.

The Lion Laughed up his Sleeve

I had been driving a lorry all day in the East African bush with a Cockney escort. When we "parked" for the night I invited the escort to sleep under cover in the lorry, as I was going to do. But he refused, saying proudly that he had slept in the open since he had landed in Africa. So, undressing, he proceeded to make the rim of the rear wheel his pillow, covering himself with a blanket and greatcoat.

About 1 a.m. I was awakened by hearing someone climbing over the tail-board. Responding to my challenge the Cockney said: "It's all right. The blighter's been and pinched my blanket and greatcoat. It's a good job I had my shirt on." We found next morning that a lion had run off with them: about 100 yards away they lay, and one sleeve was torn out of the coat. —H. J. Lake, 40a Chagford Street, N.W.1.

The Carman's Sarcasm

While our allies, the Portuguese, were holding part of the line to the left of Festubert, a Portuguese officer rode up on the most emaciated and broken-down old "crock" I had set eyes on.

He dismounted and was looking round for somewhere to tether the horse, when one of our drivers, a Cockney carman in "civvy" life, cast a critical eye over the mount and bawled out, "Don't worry abaht tying it up, mate. Lean it up agin this 'ere fence." —A. G. Lodge (Sergeant, 25th Division Artillery), 12 Derinton Road, S.W.17.

Burying a Lorry

During the Battle of the Somme, near Ginchy, a R.A.S.C. motor-lorry ran off the main track in the darkness and got stuck in the mud. The driver came to our battery near by and asked for help, so six gunners and I volunteered and set out with shovels.

On arriving at the scene, there was the motor-lorry almost buried to the top of the wheels. We all stood around surveying the scene in silence, wondering how best to make a start, when the Cockney member of the volunteer party burst out with: "Lummy, the quickest way out of this is to shovel some more blinkin' dirt on top, an' bury it." —H. Wright (ex-Sig./Bdr., C/74 Bde., R.F.A.), 45 Colehill Lane, Fulham, S.W.6.

Striking a Bargain

During the battle of the Narrows at the Dardanelles (March 18, 1915) I was in charge of No. 3 stokehold in H.M.S. Vengeance. The front line of ships engaged consisted of Irresistible, Ocean, Vengeance, and an old French battleship, the Bouvet. The stokers off watch were the ambulance party and fire brigade.

When the battle was at its height one of the fire brigade, a Cockney, kept us informed of what was going on, and this is the news we received down the ash hoist:

"Ocean and Irresistible 'as gorn darn, the Froggy's gone up in smoke: our blinkin' turn next.

"Pat, give us yer week's 'navy' (rum ration) and I'll lift this bloomin' 'atch (armoured grating) and let yer aht!" —"Ajax," 23 King's Drive, Gravesend, Kent.

Bugling in 'Indoostanee

After the evacuation of Gallipoli a transport was conveying British troops to Egypt.

The O.C. wanted a trumpeter or bugler to follow him around during the daily lifeboat parade and to sound the "Dismiss" at the end. The only one available was an Indian trumpeter, who had not blown a trumpet or bugle since 1914. He was ordered for the duty.

On the first day, immediately after the inspection was over, the O.C. gave orders for the trumpeter to sound the "Dismiss." After the trumpeter had finished, the O.C., with a look of astonishment on his face, gasped, "What's that? I never heard it sounded like that before."

Came a Cockney voice from the rear rank, "'E sounded it in 'Indoostanee, sir." —M. C., Surrey.

"For 'eaven's sake, stop sniffin'!"

Our sector of the line at Loos was anticipating a raid by the Germans and the whole battalion was ordered to "stand to" all night.

Double sentries were posted at intervals of a few feet with orders to report any suspicious shadows in No Man's Land.

All eyes and ears were strained in an effort to locate any movement in the darkness beyond the parapet.

Strict silence was to be maintained, and the guns had been ordered to hang fire so that we might give the Germans a surprise welcome if they came over.

The ominous stillness was broken at last by a young Cockney saying to his pal standing with him on the fire-step: "For 'Eaven's sake, stop sniffin', Porky. How d'yer fink we'll 'ear Jerry if he comes acrorst?" —C. J. Blake, 29a Collingbourne Road, Shepherd's Bush, W.12.

Babes in the Salonika Wood

I was with the Salonika Force on the Dorian front. One night while an important raid was on my platoon was told off to seize a big wood between the lines and make sure it was clear of Bulgars, who could otherwise have enfiladed the main raiding party.

The orders were "absolute silence, and no firing unless the other side fires first." I halted my men behind a fold in the ground near the wood and called up two men and told them to creep forward and see if the wood was occupied.

It was nasty work as the first news of any Bulgars would almost certainly have been a bayonet in the back from somebody perfectly concealed behind a tree.