The News from Over There
Mark Kowallaski
Foreign correspondent.
This reporter has been concerned for some time an the paucity of news coming from the front.
Was this a sign that things were going badly, and that our boys are suffering defeats?
I decided to exit my bunker in Hyde Park for the first time since the bombing began, and investigate.
I was glad to see that the sun was shining, despite the dreadful occurrences on the European continent; and that the gallant, courageous, stiff-upper-lip Londoners were still showing a brave face, displaying no fear or distress over all the bombings and heartache that this dreadful war has brought them.
Not being one to shy from authority when seeking out the truth of a story, I went straight to the top – Admiralty House – to see what the buzz was.
I used my press credentials to bypass most of the fuss and bother that goes with entering official buildings, but I was a little worried over the lack of security -- the guards inside the headquarters were not even armed!
Rear Admiral Crotchety-Ferret’s batman agreed to let me see him for a few minutes.
OK, I thought, now we’ll get to the bottom of this news blackout!
I could not have been more wrong!
As I asked my questions, the Admiral looked at me as if I were insane for asking.
He finally terminated the interview with a blustery:
"What are you talking about, you stupid man? Get out of here! Guard!"
Armed or not, the guards turned out to be very good at their jobs!
Not to be dissuaded from my quest for truth, I picked myself up off the sidewalk outside Admiralty House, and decided on a bold course of action.
I would take the matter straight to Number 10, Downing Street!
I approached the gates as bold as brass, and showed my credentials to the bobby.
"Oh, good grief!" he snorted, turning away from me. "’Ere, Sarge! There’s another bleedin’ Yank reporter! What should I do with him?" he shouted.
"Another one?" The astonished reply came from within a small Nissan hut. "Can’t those idiots read the bloody time? Take ‘is name and let ‘im through. Tell ‘im if ‘e’s late again, I’ll kick ‘is arse all the way down the street, personally!"
Having thus gained access to the Prime Minister’s ear, I allowed the bobby to lead me through to a large room, where a press conference was taking place.
I took a seat next to a reporter from the British Daily Telegraph, who seemed upset that he had to move a big stack of papers from my seat. The papers were headed: ‘Problems With The EMU’; so I assumed him to be something to do with animal husbandry, or perhaps working on the problems with the evacuation of the animals from London Zoo.
I soon got my chance to ask the Big Question.
"Why is it," I asked, "that we are receiving little or no news from the front lines in Europe, and we have no real information regarding the morale and welfare of our boys, who are out there fighting for a better life for all of us?"
Several of the other reporters cheered loud assent for my line of questioning.
The guy from the Telegraph clapped ‘well said’ to me.
I sat down proudly.
"Well," the politician squirmed, "as you can understand, the resignation of the entire European cabinet has left a void that is disrupting communications. We are hoping that it will all be sorted out quickly, and with as little fuss as possible."
I was horrified!
The war cabinet had disbanded?
That was front page news! Why had I heard nothing?
"I’ve gotta get to a ‘phone!" I muttered, rising from my chair and setting off to the rear of the hall.
"Here you go, old chap." The Telegraph man held out a black cigarette case. "Use mine."
"It’s Ok, thanks." I waved back at him. "I don’t smoke."
The bobby at the gate gave me a strange look as I rushed back out through the gates; but I ignored him, and made a beeline for the telephone kiosks.
When I finally managed to place a trunk call back to the States (there was something wrong with the coin-slot, and it would not accept any of my money – and Button A and Lever B were missing), I got a guy who had nothing to do with the paper, but was obviously an important guy, because he had a lot of information.
Do you want to know the biggest secret of the war?
A secret so big, that the British Military engine refuses to even talk about it?
I’ll tell you now:
WORLD WAR II IS OVER!
THE GOOD GUYS WON!
Remember:
You heard it here, first!