Wodehouse in Exile Page #2

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as a matter of fact.

If this is Upper Silesia,

what must Lower Silesia be like?

Brilliant.

Are you who I think you are?

It all depends who you think

I am, I suppose.

PG Wodehouse.

I'm afraid I am he.

Name's Mackintosh.

Winchester and Oxford.

In case anyone wants to know.

Were you Oxford or Cambridge,

Mr Wodehouse?

I wasn't actually at either. My

people couldn't afford to send me.

I went straight into the bank.

Said the wrong thing, have I?

Afraid you're stuck with me

for the duration.

I was a war graves gardener.

In Boulogne.

"Leonora, my darling daughter.

"If I knew where Plummie was,

I would write to him.

"But I don't.

"I am stuck here with only the dog

and the parrot for company.

"I am teaching the parrot to say,

"God Save the King."

"The Germans took Plummie away to

some concentration camp.

"God alone knows where.

"If this letter ever reaches

you, my darling Leonora,

"write to Plum's agent in New York.

"As America aren't in the war yet,

"maybe they can start a campaign to

have him released.

"I cannot see what harm he could

possibly do to anyone, do you?

"I miss him so much."

Darling!

It seems poor Plum has been lost.

It's a long way to Tipperary

It's a long way to go

It's a long way to Tipperary

To the sweetest girl I know

Goodbye Piccadilly

Farewell Leicester Square

It's a long, long way to Tipperary

But my heart's right there...

All I've had since Belgium is a

piece of sausage and some dry bread.

Funny. That's exactly

what I've had, too.

Brilliant!

What is this place?

Apparently, it was a lunatic asylum.

They found the

right place for me, then.

Gentlemen!

My name is Buchelt.

I am the camp leader,

as you say in English.

Or Der Lagerfuhrer, as we say

in the German language.

I have learned my English

in a good school.

I was interned in England

during the last war,

which by some mistake you English

seem to have won!

He reminds me strongly of my mother.

It's Plum's stepdaughter here.

Leonora Cazalet.

'Oh, Leonora.

I'm having trouble hearing.'

There's a bombing raid on

at the moment. Very boring.

We wanted to know

if there was any news of Plum.

'Are you all right, Leonora?'

No, no, no, we're fine.

Britain can take it, Mr Reynolds.

'Though I think we'd all be

frightfully pleased

'if you lot cared to lend us a hand!'

Some of us wish we could.

I'm glad you managed to

get your mother some money.

We haven't heard a thing,

I'm afraid. But we have...

My God!

'What?'

It's him! It's a postcard!

Read it to me!

"Am in lunatic asylum

near Polish border.

"Goodness knows

when you will get this.

"Will you send me

a five-pound parcel?

"One pound Prince Albert tobacco,

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