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Eat Bernard and they might find a way off of the island.
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Aboard a tiny ship. The mates were mighty sailin' men The skipper brave and sure But the IWO was named Bernard - A disease that has no cure A disease that has no cure The Tommies started playing rough A load of bombs they tossed They missed Bernard - now that's a shame The u-boat could be lost The u-boat could be lost The ship's aground on the shore of this Uncharted tropic isle With young Bernard The skipper too His forty thieves And hoochie girls The skipper said "My tea co-zees, if you please - I'll call this Balz's Isle." So this is the tale of our castaways They're here 'til who knows when They'll have to wait 'til Brag shows up To bring things to an end The sailors and their skipper too Will do their very best To lose Bernard in the jungle there Right near a hornet's nest No food, no schnapps, no Frau Kaleun Poor Balzie has a sad But if they could just shake Bernard It wouldn't be too bad So join us here on Subsim, friends You're sure to get a smile From our hoochie woochie castaways Here on Balz's Isle! |
The artists work
Was all in vain Sh!thouse Poet Strikes again!! :DL |
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A FEW??!!??
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Lt. Schmenk continues his tale:
The airplane was gone. Our crew worked fast removing the life rafts from the casing. The sea was calm and people kept popping out of the hatches. The stern was below the surface and water reached the conning tower. Our ship was going down. Two people lifted me and placed me in a raft as water reached the forward hatch. I didn´t know if I was the senior officer surviving. The glow of phosphorense indicated the spot where U-123 had stood. The sea was deadly still, only the gurgle of bubbles broke the silence of the night. "Roll call," I ordered. The bosun, who knew the crew list by heart, started calling out names. With great sadness, I remembered the excentricities of our captain. His tea cozies, his music, his unrestrained ego. "Zwei Matrosen confirmed as dead. Only our Komandant is missing," the bosun said after the roll call. "Am I missing something? Besides my boat, my tea cozy collection and my fine Habana cigars?" Balz said from another raft. "Now, tie our rafts together, make an inventory of the supplies in each raft, Sanitater, check or injured people. Choir, be ready to perform at sunrise." With an oar, the Sanitater fixed a splint for my leg. Morphine eased the pain and I could start thinking clearly. By 10:30 the sun was beating hard on our pale-faced crew. "Shiff gesichted," one of our duty lookouts announced. On the horizon, a number of smoke smudges appeared. "It's a convoy," someone said. Stay tuned for more Balz. :cool: |
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:woot::()1:
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Might even be Somali Pirates :DL
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"Shall I plot an intercept course?" Bernard asked.
"Ja, you do that," Balz said while studying the convoy with binoculars. "Then start rowing into attack position." He removed his smoking jacket and tea cozy. "We don´t want those buggers to see us." "Being taken prisoner by the Brits is a better option than dying on a life raft," I said. "Surrender to the Brits?" :O: Balz made a farting sound. "That lacks hoochie woochie. Even in the wretched state we are in, I am the great Balz and still armed and dangerous." He waved a P-38 pistol. For a while, we could see the mast of a corvette, then we were again alone, a spot of black rafts in the huge immensity of the ocean. That night we got soaked by a tropical shower. It got cold but we were able to collect water. The predominant wind was easterly and each hour it pushed us further away from the African coast. People would say we died a heroic death. not slowly like miserable castaways. A simple signal rocket would have saved us when that convoy was nearby. If I could only take that pistol away from Balz... Stay tuned for the next exciting Balz episode. :cool: |
Perhaps someone got off an SOS before the U-boat went down?
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"Oops. Somebody see to Eberhard." |
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