Sitting on the deck of Cullen Bay, with a canvas screen offering some shade from the Mediterranean sun, Private Dusty Miller played a few notes on his penny whistle.
Cullen Bay“I heard that the colonel left the ship last night,” Private Bullard said. “He and his missus sailed over to HMS Helicon there.”
Helicon “There’s trouble in the wind then, Bull,” Miller said. “Or maybe he’s having a few drinks with the admiral and his mates.”
Bullard nodded. “That will be it.” He placed a Jew’s harp between his teeth, strummed a few notes, swore when he nipped his tongue and removed the instrument. “Why did you join the army, Dusty?”
“For days like this,” Miller waved his penny whistle towards the blue sea and cloudless sky. “To escape from a lifetime of drudgery and visit tropical climes. I also
