Gentlemen,

DOPPELGANGER DROPS A CLANGER

Ochre coloured parachutes descending into the county of Kent were not an uncommon sight in the summer of 1940. Slowly, slowly descending as petals from the flower of creation disturbed by the corruption of war, they are the residue of an airy conflict only recently resolved.

Now, not very far below, scores of glazed gems twinkle in the the blazing afternoon sun. One here, one there, each containing the fruits of some dedicated gardener's endeavor. These greenhouses possess magical qualities. They have an attraction to parachutists the nature of which has not been satisfactorily explained and right now, Fritz, despite frantic attempts to alter his course of descent now finds himself locked into an unswerving trajectory which must, and does, deliver him through the gleaming roof of Reverend Isiah Buckthumper's conservatory.

Shards of glass and pieces of broken pottery herald his arrival onto English soil and he lies among the cabbage mulch momentarily stunned. The ignominy of this unceremonious conveyence is quickly dispelled when he opens his eyes and upon wiping away a generous sample of Farmer Dobbins Specific Rose Mixture from them he beheld an angel in human form.

'Duxy! What are you doing here...not shot down again! Are you...'
She paused uncertainly and then exclaimed; 'But you are not he are you! How silly of me. He is away picking up a new Hurricane but maybe I shouldn't be telling you that. You are very, very similar but not quite as good looking. You are a German flier...are you hurt?'
Fritz rose unsteadily and painfully to his feet, shook off the two prize marrows attached to them, click his heels and introduced himself.
'Leutnant Fritz von Krankenschafft of St.G/II at your service mein fraulein. I must apologise for this unseemly...'
'Please...do not apologise. I am Sister Heddabord Bangtildoorn, a Dutch nurse attached to this military hospital annexe which was the Rectory. Come with me and we will treat your wounds and inform the Military Police. I must say how alike you are to my friend Flight Leiutenant Duxlington from the RAF base nearby!'

Later that afternoon after a cursory interrogation, Fritz had glass removed from his hind quarters and his sprains and aches alleviated under the tender attention of the glamourous Sister. His keen senses had already taken in the fact that several RAF officers were also enjoying her welcome treatment while they recovered from a variety of injuries. As he bolted down a luxurious meal of fried eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and Farmer Dobbins acclaimed bacon his escape plan had already been laid.

Shortly afterwards and with heartfelt regret when departing from the company of Heddabord, he sneaked out of the hospital in a Flight Leiutenant's uniform swiped from the wardrobe of one of the patients and as dusk fell made his way furtively towards the airfield.

His plan to purloin some aircraft or other and fly back to France was temporarily forgotten when he realized to his delight that a Mess party was in full swing and he brazenly entered trusting that the nurse had indeed not exaggerated the likeness between him and this fellow Duxy. He was not one to pass up the chance of a good booze-up and he was confident he could handle a fighter even after a few pints.

He was greeted by a distinguished looking pilot with an American accent who approached him while wiping away spew from his tunic. The others referred to him as JRT.
'Hey Duxy! You're back early. Thought you'd missed the fun!'
A double Jack D was thrust into his hand and in no time at all he had become familiar with Mad, HK, Zerosan, Bader and many others. After an hour he had decided that he was in the wrong air force when suddenly the needle on the gramaphone skidded off the record and his companions melted away in an instant.

'Ooooh Dahxey, Dahxey, Bobbee, fer arrr ju?'

Fritz slewed around drunkenly and beheld something that looked like a Mongolian mutante lesbian docker with obesity problems. To the sound of tearing trousers he dropped his glass...Heddaboord seemed worlds away...