THE
BATTLE
GOON SHOW: TLO
73413
9TH
SERIES: No 9
RECORDED: 29 Dec
1958
By Spike Milligan
GREENSLADE: This is the BBC
Light Programme. Now here is a variation on that. This is THE BBC Light
Programme.
CAST: Murmurs of approval.
SELLERS: The old night
school's paying off there, Wal.
SECOMBE: Yer, chat on more
on it there Wal lad. Give us a bit more of the old posh chat der.
GREENSLADE: I continue my
recital of announcements. The BBC is open to the public on Thursdays and
Wednesday afternoons, or, on Wednesday afternoons and Thursdays.
MILLIGAN: Thank you Jim. Now
here folks is Chief Ellinga Yingtoo to say Thursday in Swahili.
ELLINGTON: Ma Ia toola ya, yarga
toola marngu. Do la maar gar, oota mye chikaav faar
goola toilmmmmm.
MILLIGAN: You see how long
the days are in
SEAGOON: Thank you. Hello
folks, hello folks! It is me folks. Folks, it is me! Next year folks I hope to
give up 1958 PERMANENTLY.
ELDER STATESMAN: Ungrateful beast.
After 1958 all that it's done for you, you discard it like an old boot. I won't
hear it.
SEAGOON: Let me warn you
hairy sir, of the many dangers and donjers of keeping on old years after it's
worn out. Mrs Greenslade's husband will now tell you why.
GREENSLADE: It was the year
1907, and here is the orchestra to play it.
ORCHESTRA: New years-type musical link.
Start with bright, up-beat version of “Land of Hope and Glory” - then rapid
version of “Soldiers of the Queen” with the band singing to rhythm accompaniment.
Finishes on a tatty chord in C.[1]
SEAGOON: Ah, what a year that
was. The South African war had broken out and was now in its second year.
OMNES: (Singing) 'Happy Birthday to you,
Happy birthday to
you…'
SEAGOON: Knock knock knock
on a door in
BLOODNOK: Knock knock knock
on a door in Africa? Gad, that's the address of my door - come in!
SEAGOON: Effects, door
opens.
BLOODNOK: Ahhh! Effects ‘Ahhh'.
SEAGOON: May I introduce
myself?
BLOODNOK: Of course.
SEAGOON: (Announcing) Ladies and Gentlemen! The
man in the blue corner is Neddie Seagoon. (Normal)
Thank you. I'm 5th Lieutenant Seagoon reporting from Sandhurst SW9.
BLOODNOK: Well sit down on
that chair in Africa SE16.
FX: Duck call.
SEAGOON: Thank you. I was
told to hand this envelope to you with a hand.
BLOODNOK: Oh. Pronounced...
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded) BLOODNOK: Ohhh
ooohh oooh!!!
FX: Envelope opening.
BLOODNOK: Ah, these are
your secret orders.
SEAGOON: What do they say?
BLOODNOK: STRAIGHT AHEAD,
A-HEAD!
GRAMS: Regiment standing at ease.
SEAGOON: (relief) Oh, that feels much better sir.
BLOODNOK: Yes, and it suits
you what's more. Now to military matters of milt. Captain Jampton?
GRAMS: Mad dash of coconut shells
horses hooves very brief, very fast, approaching to foreground.
HUGH JAMPTON: Ahhh ... Sorry
I'm late sir, I er… I was quelling a native with ah... quells.
BLOODNOK: You'll get the military
piano and bar for this. Now explain the victorious positions of our defeated
troops.
HUGH JAMPTON: Ah...
intelligence ah... has established that ah... the people attacking us are… are the
enemy.
BLOODNOK: So that's their
fiendish game is it?
SEAGOON: Gentlemen, do the
enemy realise that you have this information?
BLOODNOK: No, no, we got
'em fooled. They think that we're the enemy.[2]
SEAGOON: What a perfect
disguise!
MILLIGAN: Ha ha ha, yes you
see Lieutenant Seagoon we have a plan - a plan of plin and ploof. The South
Africans are magnificent fighters, and it's our intention to persuade them to
come over to our side.
SEAGOON: Then that would
finish the war, sir!
MILLIGAN: Oh no. (Laughs) Ha ha ha. Oh dearie no!
SEAGOON: Then how would
you keep it going?
MILLIGAN: England, my dear
sir, is never short of enemies!
BLOODNOK: Of course not. The
waiting room's full of 'em. Now Seagoon, sit down. Tell me, what's the time
back in
SEAGOON: Twenty to four
sir.
BLOODNOK: Ah. It's nice to
hear the old time again. (Calls) Singhiz!
SINGHEZ THINGZ: Yes sir?
FX: Slapstick.
BLOODNOK: Get out of here now,
will you! You see, Seagoon, how bad things are! That banana for instance – it's
only been eaten once, and look at it!
SEAGOON: But sir, back in
BLOODNOK: Back in
GRAMS: Explosion.
BLOODNOK: (Over.) OHHHH! What, what, what?
GRAMS: Approach of old car back
firing. Grinding of gear. Parping on bulb horn. Car explodes. Gusher of steam.
Falls to bits. Huge explosion. Drop bits and pieces onto hard surface.
ECCLES: Well, I think
I'll pull-up here.
BLOODNOK: I say you with the
apparent teeth.
ECCLES: Oh, a soldier man.
Hello soldier. BANG! BANG! Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang! You're dead soldier!
SEAGOON: Let me talk to
him. I speak Idiot fluently. (Does Eccles
impression) Hello Ecclesssss.
ECCLES: Oh! You're from
the old country.[3]
BLOODNOK: Neddie allow me
to humour him with this mallet.
SEAGOON: No, no, no! Leave
it to me. (Imitates Eccles) Tell us
Mad Dan, what are you doing in Africa?
ECCLES: “What are you
doing in Africa?” I translated. I'm here as an adviser to the British Army.
SEAGOON: Splendid. (As Eccles) What are you going to advise
them?
ECCLES: Not to take me.
BLOODNOK: I respect your
cowardice, sir. It warms my heart and gives old Denis a real smart idea. Come
over here and warm yourself by this Recruiting-Sergeant.
SERGEANT: 'Ello 'ello 'ello
my lad. You look a likely lad ‘dere.
ECCLES: (Rubbish.) Ullo ulloouolloummaha. Alaaclaaclucalamlla.
SERGEANT: Very gude, very
gude, very gude ‘dere. Now ‘ere lad, 'ow would you like to 'ave a grandstand
view of the opening night of the Battle of Spion Kop ‘dere?
BLOODNOK: Yes, just a
moment Sergeant Spinerachah! He can have my place I tell you!
SERGEANT: Ho ho ho ho?
BLOODNOK: Yes, just by
chance Sergeant I have a vacant uniform in the front rank. He'll see everything
from there.
SERGEANT: Now then, you
'eard that very fair offer from the nice Major ‘dere.
ECCLES: Yes, he's a nice
Major...
BLOODNOK: Yes.
ECCLES: He's a nice man.
How much do you want for dat?
BLOODNOK: Well, usually
it's free, but just this once it will be seven shillings, so ah shall we say a
pound?
ECCLES: A pound?
BLOODNOK: You said it.
ECCLES: Oh. I've only got
a five-pound note.
BLOODNOK: Well, I'll take
that and you can pay me the other four later.
FX: Cash register.
BLOODNOK: Oh, the old
Military till!
SERGEANT: You're a very
lucky lad there Mad Dan Eccles. I'll have a regiment call for you at six
tomorrow morning. Meantime, here is the well-known 'Conks' Geldray – a sittin'
target.
GELDRAY: Boy, in the war
my conk holds its own.
MAX GELDRAY – “This Can’t Be Love” [4]
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic 'return to the
story' link.
GRAMS: Cavalry on parade ground. Tramp
of soldiers on gravel.
GREENSLADE: At dawn the
British attack was mounted, not very well stuffed but beautifully mounted. Then
suddenly through the stilled British front line, a lone voice is heard.
MORIARTY: (approaching) Lucky charms. Get your
lucky charms before the battle. Get your lucky charms, boys.
(Sings) Get your self a charm today,
and save yourself
from harm today.
WILLIUM: ‘Ere!
MORIARTY: OWWWWW!
WILLUM: ‘Ere, mate
charm-man. ‘Ere!
MORIARTY: What is it merry
drummer man?
WILLIUM: Them charms, are
they any cop mate?
MORIARTY: Ah, they're real
cop mate – Nelson brought one for
WILLIUM: (Thinks) ‘Ere – he weren't at
MORIARTY: Of course not! He
was in my shop buying a charm. You see how lucky they are?
WILLIUM: How much is a
good one then?
MORIARTY: Well tell me,
what part don't you want to be wounded in?
WILLIUM: I don't want any
of me parts wounded.
MORIARTY: I know, you want
the all parts comprehensive charm.
WILLIUM: Hurry up then –
how much??
MORIARTY: Three shillings,
it's a real bargain with barg!
WILLIUM: There, snail
eater. I pins it on me chest so me chest won't get killed.
FX: Single pistol shot.
WILLIUM: (Going) Oww Mate!
FX: Thud of body to floor.
MORIARTY: Good shot
Grytpype!
GRYTPYPE: Unpin the lucky
charm and back on the tray with it. Off you go Morinantrilly.
MORIARTY: Charms, second
hand lucky charms. (Self-fade.) Only
used once before...
GRYTPYPE: There he goes, a
true son of
SECOMBE: (Calls from distance.) I say, do you
mind taking your hat off, old chap! The battle's about to begin, and we can't
see you know.
SERGEANT
MAJOR: FIRE!!!!
GRAMS: Battle starts - First the
volleys of musketry, Then distant cannons. The return fire of the enemy is even
more distant. Fade down and under. Fade in Big Ben chiming. Fade under.
PRIME MINISTER: Gentlemen of the
house, the Battle of Spion Kop opened last night.
OMNES: (Chorus of murmurs.) Here! Here!
PRIME MINISTER: Ah, but I fear it
got very bad notices in the Press.
MP SPRIGGS: You're not
thinking of taking it off are you, Mr Prime Minister?
PRIME MINISTER: Well, unless Robert
Morley puts some money in I can see no other way.
MP SPRIGGS: But I mean, what
about Binkie and his backers?[5]
They'll lose all their money.
PRIME MINISTER: Patience sir,
patience. We have here Lieutenant Seagoon who will proceed to give us the
reasons for the disaster.[6]
SEAGOON: Thank you, Honourable
Members. The reason for it flopping was obvious – there isn't one decent song
in the whole battle.
SIR JERVIS FRUIT:[7] But soldier
fellow, the Battle of Spion Kop isn't a musical you know!
SEAGOON: And that's where
we went wrong. If the Americans had been running it they'd have had Rex
Harrison and the other wrecks.
SIR JERVIS FRUIT: Do you know any
good composers of battle songs and scores?
SEAGOON: Just by chance
and careful planning, I have an Auntie in
SIR JERVIS FRUIT: I didn't know
there were any of her kind left you know.
PRIME MINISTER: Now off you go and
tell your auntie the good news.
GRAMS: Running footsteps. (Pre-recorded
with piano accompaniment.)
SECOMBE: (Sings) Land of Hope and Glory,
Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee,
who are born of thee?
Wider still, and wider,
shall thy bounds be set;
God, who made thee mighty,
make thee mightier yet!
(Speed the whole thing up to infinity and fade into the distance.)
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic chords.
FX: Hammering of a metal hammer on anvil.
CRUN: (Over hammering. With effort.) Agh, agh!
There, now that's got the spoons in fine spoon-fettle Min.
FX: Two spoons together in rhythm.
CRUN: (Sings along.) Na ha ha ha, ma ma ha. Now Min, get inside the piano and select me a tuning A.
GRAMS: A sheep bleating.
CRUN: Again Min.
GRAMS: A sheep bleating.
CRUN: Oh, they don't
make pianos like that any more.
BANNISTER: Isn't it time we
had it shorn Henry?
CRUN: No, not yet Min.
The winters aren't upon us, you know. Hand me my knuckle oils.
BANNISTER: Rub it well into
the knuckles until it's mixed with Indian brandyyy.
CRUN & BANNISTER: (cries of “rub it in”, “brandy.”)
FX: Agonising knuckle cracking.
CRUN: It's no good Min
– these carminatives are no good I tell you.[8]
BANNISTER: You’ve heard!
You’ve heard!
CRUN: Oh, I've got the
flat-feet in the third knuckle you know Min. Ah well – now to try for the Paganini
Variations for spoons arranged – CRUN.[9]
GRAMS: Paganini variations played
by Heifetz, on old gramophone player.
FX: (Over.) Spoons playing along.
CRUN: (Over both.) Da, da, da…&c. Stop! Stop! Stop! This spoon is out of
tune, Min. Have you been eating with it again?
BANNISTER: No-ooo!
CRUN: Then what's that
your stirring the soup with?
BANNISTER: A violin.
CRUN: She's always got
an answer the old cow. Now to compose the last tune for the battle of Spion KOP!
FX: Two pairs of spoons in tempo.
BANNISTER & CRUN:
(Sing together) Goodbye Dolly I must
leave you,
goodbye
Dolly I must go…[10]
GRAMS: Bring up noises of battle –
rifle fire, distant cannons. End with one enormous explosion.
BLOODNOK: Aaaaaaaahhhh! Ellinga,
turn the volume of that battle down.
FX: Door bursts open.
SEAGOON: Major! The enemy
are...
BLOODNOK: (Going rapidly) AAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!
GRAMS: Single whoosh.
SEAGOON: Good heavens,
he's gone. Ah! Here are his boots. They're still warm – he can't be far.
BLOODNOK: (Slightly distant) Aaahhh, there ain't
nobody here but us chickens I tell you.
SEAGOON: The voice came
from a cowardly red-face on the top of a chicken wardrobe.
BLOODNOK: Oh, it's you
Seagoon, you… you coward,
SEAGOON: Why have you
deserted your post?
BLOODNOK: It's got woodworm
sir.
SEAGOON: Old jokes won't
save you.
BLOODNOK: They saved
Monkhouse and Goodwin. Well that's good enough for me.
SEAGOON: Major, there's
still hope. Crun's vital battle songs have arrived:
BLOODNOK: It won't be easy
sir. The enemy have just attacked in E-flat, and we had to retire to G-minor.
SEAGOON: Never mind sir,
these old songs are all written in six-sharps.[11]
BLOODNOK: Oh, the most
powerful brown key of them all. Get Ellinga and his Zulu bones to dash off a
chorus towards the enemy.
SEAGOON: HEEEELLPPP!
RAY ELLINGTON – “Mr. Success” [12]
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic wartime link.
GRAMS: Bugle calls at varying
pitches, from close and distant positions. Cavalry galloping past.
SEAGOON: At dawn, under
cover of daylight we took up our positions with our teeth blacked out.
AGED VETERAN: Every man has his
ammunition pouches bulging with offensive military songs and spoons at the
ready.
SEAGOON: Right. We'll just
have to sit and wait.
(Long pause)
BLUEBOTTLE: Do you think
we're going to win, Captain?
SEAGOON: Never was victory
more certain, little lad.
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh. Then why have
you got that taxi waiting for you at the end of the trench?
SEAGOON: Ha ha... Well
here's half-a-crown little lad. I think we can forget all about it now.
BLUEBOTTLE: No. I can't
forget about it.
FX: Colossal clout.
BLUEBOTTLE: (In tears) Ahhi! I’ve forgotten about
it.
SEAGOON: Now explain to me
why you're lying down two-inches below the level of the ground and speaking
through a tombstone.
BLUEBOTTLE: Well, I was doing
an impression of a zebra crossing when SKRELLS!
– a taxi runned over me breaking both my boots above the wrist.
SEAGOON: What agony igony
ogony oogany mahogany! Did it hurt you?
BLUEBOTTLE: No because I'm
making it all up. Tee hee...
SEAGOON: Taxi!
GRAMS: Taxi approaches at terrific
speed. Terrific jelly splosh.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ooohee!. You've
taxied me. Look, the Christmas string’s coming off my legs.
SEAGOON: Swallow this
first-aid book and custard. I'll have your legs re-lacquered free and exported
to
BLUEBOTTLE: You're a fair man
sir. Merryl Krilbins!
ECCLES: Ooh, Bottle. What
you doing under that taxi?
BLUEBOTTLE: It ran over me,
Eccles,
ECCLES: You must be rich.
I can only afford to be run over by buses.
BLUEBOTTLE: Well my man, when
you're in the big money you know, you can do things like that.
ECCLES: You’ll see, one
day I'll have enough money to be run over by a Rolls-Royce with a chauffeur.
BLUEBOTTLE: Well, pull me out
then.
ECCLES: Right-oh. Hold
this.
BLUEBOTTLE: What is it?
ECCLES: I don't know, but
I got it cheap.
SEAGOON: Let me see what
you got cheap?
GRAMS: Tiger growl.
SEAGOON: Good heavens. It's
a genuine hand operated 1914 tiger!
BLOODNOK: Seagoon, put that
tiger back in its stripes. We don't want any scandals during ladies night.
ABDUL: Pardon me, sir.
All the men are ready with their music.
BLOODNOK: Good, let's have
those spoons then lad.
ORCHESTRA: Massed spoon playing.
BLOODNOK: Oooh... what a
terrifying sound. It's a good job nobody heard it.
SEAGOON: (Commands) Now men, to your military
Crun music and take up your vocal positions with your voices facing outwards.
BLOODNOK: And don't sing
men until you see the whites of their song sheets. Are you ready? Bugler, sound
the elephant.
GRAMS: High pitched trumpeting by
single elephant.
BLOODNOK: Ohhh!
HUGH JAMPTON: Here they come
now, sir.
BLOODNOK: Quick, me spoons
and me music. I'll show 'em.
FX: Two spoons busking in tempo under.
BLOODNOK: (Sings) Goodbye Dolly I Must Leave You
I do not want to go…
(shouts) Come on you fools!
There's more of this where this came from.
(continues singing) I do not want to go…&c
(shouts) Sing up lads!
CAST: All
join in singing and rattling spoons.
GRAMS: Shells start bursting in
their midst. Starting slowly and increasing in intensity.
BLOODNOK: (Continues to sing but gradually his morale
is destroyed, he breaks off.) Run for it lads! Oooh, these songs aren't
bullet proof. AHHH-EOUGH!
GRAMS: Whole army runs away yelling
in terror. Speed up and fade.
(Pause)
GRAMS: Arctic gale howling.
Occasional wolves.
BLOODNOK: Ooh! Eoughie! That's
far enough lads. Where are we?
SEAGOON: The South Pole
sir.
BLOODNOK: Well, no further.
We don't want to back into them. Plant the Union Jack will you – the national
flag of the Union of Jacks. I claim the South Pole in the name of Gladys Plills
of thirteen The Sebastopol Villas, Sutton.
SEAGOON: Who is she, sir?
BLOODNOK: I don't know, but
obviously we're doing her a big favour.
SEAGOON: There's still a
chance of victory. Look what I've got in the brown paper parcel.
FX: Rustling of paper.
BLOODNOK: Good heavens – white
paper! What a glorious victory for
SEAGOON: Look under the
stamp.
BLOODNOK: What! A
fourteen-inch naval gun.
ECCLES: And guess what's
in the barrel?
BLOODNOK: I've no idea.
SEAGOON: Major, inside the
barrel are photographs of a British military dinner.
BLOODNOK: Really? (Keep it
going lads, keep it going.)
SEAGOON: I intend to fire
that photograph at the enemy canteen during their lunch break. When they see
the size of British military dinners they'll desert.
BLOODNOK: I know. Half our
men deserted when they saw the size of 'em. However it's worth a try. Take
aim... fire!
GRAMS: Colossal explosion. Followed
by piles of bones falling on to the ground.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ehhh... that's
the last time I kip in a barrel, I tell you. Collapses, and is left out of show
from now onwards. Goodnight everybody.
GRAMS: Cheers, applause.
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh... by popular
request I come back again.
FX: Slapstick.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ayyy...
SEAGOON: All we can do is
to wait and see what effect that photograph of a military dinner has on the
enemy. Meantime a sound effect.
GRAMS: Wind up and wolves howling.
GREENSLADE: Meantime in
Parliament the British Government had written off the Battle of Spion Kop as a
dead loss.
ELDER STATESMAN: Gentlemen, to
save face and the honour of
CAST: Ancient murmurs of approval
ELDER STATESMAN: Gentlemen, we
shall send out immediate notification to the original cast.
ORCHESTRA: Marseillaise-type link
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: (Sleep noises)
FX: Door opening
FRENCH NEDDIE: Mon Emperor,
wake-up!
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: How dare you wake
the Emperor Napoleon up in the middle of his retirement.
FRENCH NEDDIE: Wonderful news! By
special request we have to do an encore of the Battle of Waterloo.
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: What! But we lost
it.
FRENCH NEDDIE: This time we've
got a British backer.
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: Sapristi nabolas.
Get my trousers oiled and unwrap a fresh Josephine. Ahh, there's going to be
fun tonight in the camp!
FX: Slapstick
GRYTPYPE: Down Emperor down.
Back to your grave. You know you're not allowed out after your death.
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: Blast these silly
rules.
GRYTPYPE: My card Neddie.
SEAGOON: This is a piece
of string.
GRYTPYPE: Have you no
imagination lad. I am Lord Ink.
SEAGOON: Not Pennan?
GRYTPYPE: Yes Pennan Ink.
ORCHESTRA: Tatty chord in C
SEAGOON: (Don't worry
folks, it's getting near the end now. Any pay offs will be gratefully received.)
GRYTPYPE: (One coming up,
Ned.) Unfortunately my client Moriarty is appearing in 'The Death of Napoleon'
at the local knackers yard. It looks like being a very long run.
SEAGOON: It looks like
being a long run? What does?
GRYTPYPE: Ten miles.
FX: Pistol shot.
GRYTPYPE: They're off!
GRAMS: Two pairs of running feet
SEAGOON: (panting) As we ran we discussed the
contract for the Battle of Waterloo. Later at Preston Barracks Brighton, we
auditioned for the part of the Duke of Wellington.
GRAMS: Fade in music hall artist
singing 'Any Old Iron' with smart backing.
SEAGOON: (Calls) Thank you. Wait inside the piano
one moment will you. (Close) What do
you think?
GRYTPYPE: He's not the Lord
Wellington type you know.
SEAGOON: Yes. (Shouts) I say, we'll write and let you
know.
WILLIUM: (Distant) Let me know what?
SEAGOON: That you're no
good for the part.
WILLIUM: (Distant) Right - I won't take another
job till I hear that, then.
SEAGOON: Next please.
FX: Pair of thick
hobnailed boot clomp across floor.
ECCLES: (sings) I'll follow my secret heart till
I find you...
SEAGOON: (Calls) One moment. (Close) Where's my pistol?
GRYTPYPE: No Neddie, no! One
moment...
MORIARTY BONAPARTE: Grytpype! With
Eccles playing the part of
GRYTPYPE: Right. (Calls) Eccles?
ECCLES: Yes?
GRYTPYPE: Button the hat and sword. Now charge...
GRAMS: Great galloping of horses
into distance with volleys of rifle fire.
SEAGOON: (in tears) No! We've… we've lost the
Battle of Waterloo.
MORIARTY: (Approaching) Get your new history books
here. Read how the French won Waterloo, folks. (Self-fade)
FX: Phone rings.
SEAGOON: Hello?
BLOODNOK: Seagoon, look
here, a right twit you made of yourself firing that photo of a dinner at the
enemy. Do you know what they've fired back?
SEAGOON: What?
BLOODNOK: The photograph of
an empty plate.
SEAGOON: Ha-ha! An empty
plate. Well, there you are folks – the old anti-climax again.
ORCHESTRA: 'Old Comrades March' playout.
GRAMS: Distant cannon bombardment behind.
ORCHESTRA: Ray
Ellington Quartet.
YTI 