Due to some confusion last night when a broadcast from Sir Antony Eden only just reached Tolly Maw the ladies-of-a-certain-age round here are all clustered outside the Supreme Being & Templar to sign up. It might well be the case that the threat of Operation Sealion (the Nazi strategy to invade England as far as the awful bits and take captive Noel Coward) has passed us by, but the ladies of Tolly Maw all fired up are willing to take the fight to... well, anybody really. With the recent changes to the structure of the Territorials anyone of any age can now join and will only be liable to service abroad after at least two mugs of tea and a NAAFI bun.
Currently knitting their own uniforms it is widely thought that amongst the heat and horror of Foreign the bold scent of lavender and old ladies wee will bring a new edge to the fight against, well, anyone again. In fleece-lined zipper combat-boots and a number of cardigans the sight of Warrior APCs crawling across foreign lands at two miles an hour is one liable to swell the heart. Because as newly appointed Captain Slocombe is quoted as saying today, ‘We didn’t have little tanks when we were girls,’ then, ‘they were green’. There was then some confusion about her pussy, but it was never very funny even when we were kids.
Possessed of little wispy moustaches (each old lady therefore a veteran) the savings to be made are estimated to run into the hundreds. It’s been found that a shuffling old lady with a wheeled wicker basket can carry as much as a Chindit’s mule, and can live on a single tin of stewing steak from 1954 for a week at a time. Never tiring, never slowing (it would actually be impossible without going backwards) a platoon of old ladies is liable to keep an enemy on the run for a week, and catch them, as they tire, as they weep, unable to hide once their camouflage has been wiped off by a terrible hanky and their own spit.
Soon the hills of foreign lands will echo to the sound of Peters and Lee, Captain and Tennille, and Nana Mouskouri. Not so much a rock n’ roll war as an easy listening one. A Seaside Special conflict.
And Charlie don’t crochet.