Far away farce
In 1987 my parents decided to up sticks to South Africa and dragged me along too. Before I knew what was happening I was enrolled into the local high school, whereupon my music teacher was thrilled with my "plummy" English accept (I hail from the Essex/Suffolk border). He was busy adapting an English farce for the xmas play, set in 1940.

Anyhow, this up with me having to sacrifice two hours every week staying after school to train the lead actor in the role of the English Bobby to speak like one. His broad (to me) South African accent made things very difficult. Not being one to relish the challenge I shirked my responsibilities somewhat.

My lack of enthusiasm didn't get me out of the play however, I became a stagehand and when the actor scripted to play the part of the downed Nazi airman (an Austrian chap by the name of Jorn) was struck with flu on the opening night, I had to take his place.

Picture the mismatch. Jorn was four years older than me and played 1st team Rugby, so his uniform (complete with swastika and peaked cap) was several sizes too big. I looked more like a refugee from Belsen than an evil Nazi. On top of that, my German accent made the Saffar Bobby sound authentic...

"Zis is der tag!" screamed I (in a teenage Damon Albarnesque voice) has I raised my right arm in salute, dropping my imitation Luger pistol on the floor.

I am then put under arrest by the bobby with the line:

"Ja, you's unda arrist in de naam of ze law".
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 2 Dec 2005, 12:42, Reply)