大象传媒

This is a poem given to me when I was cross checking my memories of a raid on Cark Cumbria.

THE
ALLITHWAITE
BLITZ.

In days of old great tales were told
Of heroes unafraid,
But I will tell what us befell
On the night of the Allithwaite raid.

The tomcats growled, the tabbies howled
Joe Rainford鈥檚 hens had fits,
The cows all bawled, the old mare foaled
On the night of the Allithwaite blitz.

A spotted dog went tearing past
Which no one could pursue.
A warden cried as the dog he espied
鈥淚t鈥檒l win the waterloo鈥�

Our Vicar opened wide his doors;
A haven of refuge was that.
Folk came in droves and did not pause
To wipe their feet on the mat.

And some to Kirk Head cave did run
While bombs fell helter skelter,
But once in there they didn鈥檛 care-
Twas a natural air raid shelter.

A crippled lass who hadn鈥檛 run
For years and years and years
Cried 鈥淓e, by gum, it鈥檚 taken a bomb
To change up all my gears.鈥�

Four times a lady vainly tried
Her corsets to adjust.
Said her husband 鈥淟eave the darned things off,鈥�
The while he 鈥渃ust 鈥� and 鈥渃ust.鈥�

Out of his bed, a joiner sped
While bombs fell round the houses,
One hand he used to put out fires,
The other to hold his trousers.

His laddie ran to help his dad
Oh no one there was rasher.
As the crowd he joins he girt his loins
With his mother鈥檚 antimacassar.

Dad cried 鈥済et into the pantry quick!鈥�
His language it was nasty.
A voice in the dark cried out 鈥淲hat a lark;
I鈥檓 sitting in鈥檛 rhubarb pasty.鈥�

A Home Guard in the Home Lane blast
In to wreckage was searching beneath.
He heard a voice: 鈥淚 can鈥檛 come out;
I鈥檝e lost my darned false teeth.鈥�

Said Bill to Sall:鈥� don鈥檛 fear we鈥檒l stick
Together through death or life.鈥�
But the light of a flare made poor Bill stare-
He was holding another man鈥檚 wife!

鈥淥h, what鈥檚 that crash,鈥� two ladies cried
As 鈥榥eath the bed they hid
It was only our Chief Warden,
Who鈥檇 through the skylight slid.

A blazing hen hut was the mark
For the Nazi airman鈥檚 bullets
Tom said to Frank 鈥淲e鈥檇 better duck.鈥�
Said Frank 鈥淣ay ! save my pullets鈥�

A brave young girl went dashing out
To fight incendiary鈥檚 flame.
Her elastic ripped, and down they slipped,
But she went on just the same!

鈥淲here鈥檚 my old cat,鈥� a lady wailed,
As among her ruins she searched.
When hope had passed she found him at last
He was up the chimney perched.

Our butcher won his laurels too,
For quickly on the alert,
He doused incendiaries by the score
With nothing on but his shirt.

And Gillie Rigg was a lad again-
Our goalie, six feet three-
When he saw that land mine coming
He headed it into the sea!

And lots of other funny things
Did happen that Sunday night
Which only the man in the moon did see,
And he keeps his secrets tight.

And so in future years to come,
When we鈥檙e all laid to rest,
Our children鈥檚 bairns will tell their bairns
How Allithwaite stood the test.

M.I.Brockbank.

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