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"Bombardier Solomons!"


"Why has you got teeth marks in your neck? What has you been doing, boy, wrestling with a tiger?"

"Actually, you could say I was -"

"Shut up! Gunner Beaumont!"


"Why is your trousers not done up properly, and why has you got more makeup smeared across your face than an old tart outside the stage door at Drury Lane?"

"Well, it was very dark in the theatre, and my hands kept slipping."

"Shut up! If you and your men does not smarten up, Solomons, I will have them stripes off your arm and, Concert Party or no Concert Party, every last one of you will be posted up the jungle so fast your feet won't touch the ground!"


"D'you think we're ever really going to get posted, Solly?"

"Not as long as the Colonel's in that office and we're his blue-eyed boys, we won't be."

"Oh, I'm so glad. Imagine if we had to put on shows in the jungle. All those spiders and insects everywhere. I don't think I'd like feeling things crawling up my dress every night."

"That ain't what you were saying when we were going off stage."

"... I do make some exceptions."