WWII short story of Sergeant Gordon Johnston (Jock) Walker

be seen, and they moved so did we, bent double, and the Dutch equivalent of ‘Giddup, Buttercup’ softly spoken out was supposed to start them off, but they just ‘mooed’ and shuffled a little, and then it happened. The Driver who was behind one of them saw, to his horror, that it had lifted its tail and he was deluged. Cursing and swearing (naturally, who wants to be a cow’s toilet?) he un-slung his rifle and belted it over the behind, at which cavalier treatment it bellowed, and took off, and the rest bellowed and followed suit, and, of course, all our stealth was now in vain. They must have trotted for about five minutes, with us streaming in the rear, fortunately in the right direction, and a few minutes later they were safely penned up, ready for distribution amongst the villagers; but the poor old driver - he stank like an Egyptian toilet and failed to see what was causing all the hilarity… His war continued with the crossing of the Rhine, the relief of the POW camp at Fallingbostel Number 14B, the concentration camps at Belsen and Sandbostel, the surrender at Hamburg and Copenhagen and finishing his war in Berlin before repatriation.
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