Woken by Simon phoning me from his holiday to relay a comedy incident.
He and his wife had gone on a coach trip somewhere down there in the outbacks of Cornwall. During the journey they came across some lost German tourists. The coach driver of some senior years gave them directions, go back the way you came turn left at the school etc. etc. and off they went. The driver slid his window shut a said to the passengers 'And that was totally the wrong way!'. Simon remarked how all the men on the coach roared with laughter while the women looked slightly shocked. It really is amazing how much of a hard time we still give the Germans after fifty years since our last coming together, however usually good humoured.
I remember one Le Mans 24 Hours race some years ago, Mercedes and Jaguar were having a right ol tussle through the night which carried on until the end of the famous four o'clock finish. Gear box's locked up, engines needed tending, refueling, the excitement became extreme. We were obviously sitting in the British quarter, Jag flags, Union Jacks waving, beer flowing, normal British bad behavior which I am always proud to be part of.
A walkway divided us between the German Mercedes followers, when Mercedes went ahead they sang "Deutschland Deutschland uber alles" at us, as Jaguar took the lead we hit them with the Dads Army theme tune 'Who do you think you are kidding Mr Hitler, If you think ol England's done'. Bloody superb fun, all good humoured.
Two World Wars And One World Cup
One good connection we have with the Germans is that if wars were fought and won on who could drink the most beer the first and second world wars would have been a draw. Some of the best piss ups I've ever had were in Hamburg with fellow German colleagues giving the ol' Reuters expense accounts a good rogering.
As the last recession in the late eighties starting nibbling away at my business we were all scrattin' about for work, the City was closing down. We kept on track by drinking ourselves to oblivion knowing all our little consultancy ships were sinking and we could only observe. Black humour was another coping method which was taken to extremes.
We got news that Deutche Bank were moving into Bishopsgate so we made it a target to get in there and sort out some possible work. As I was sitting at my desk a colleague of mine fax'd me a letter which was addressed to our contact in Deutche Bank, it read.
Dear Mr Whatever,
We would like to introduce our company to you with reference to your forthcoming relocation to Bishopsgate.
We're sure the enclosed information will be of interest and look forward to meeting you to discuss our services.
Further, we congratulate you on your choice of location, it's awe inspiring what one can do in fifty years since you lot bombed the fuck out of it between 1939 to 1945.
Yours, etc.
Nice one, but later that day his PA noticed the fax with some positive scribbled remark from me, took it as an ok and re sent the original to Mr Whatever at Deutche Bank.
I believe by this time we were mostly insane, living on the very edge, anxiety and stress management equalled Vodka and Diazepam. The next morning I got the phone call to tell me what had happened and remember holding my head in my hands and crying with laughter, one of our last hopes.
The thought of this landing on some German Directors lap made me laugh to the extent of not being able to breathe as I heard my mate going through the same process at the other end of the phone.
I knew it was a coup, by this time it was becoming a task project managing what was real and what wasn't, going to the toilet etc. let alone relocating a blue chip German company that ran on precision. We would have been put up against a wall and shot within a week.
The insanity still amuses me; by the way, the joke notes will always get through rather than the real ones, they have a little impish energy that propels them towards who they were originally intended for.
Further, we congratulate you on your choice of location, it's awe inspiring what one can do in fifty years since you lot bombed the fuck out of it between 1939 to 1945.
Yours, etc.
Nice one, but later that day his PA noticed the fax with some positive scribbled remark from me, took it as an ok and re sent the original to Mr Whatever at Deutche Bank.
I believe by this time we were mostly insane, living on the very edge, anxiety and stress management equalled Vodka and Diazepam. The next morning I got the phone call to tell me what had happened and remember holding my head in my hands and crying with laughter, one of our last hopes.
The thought of this landing on some German Directors lap made me laugh to the extent of not being able to breathe as I heard my mate going through the same process at the other end of the phone.
I knew it was a coup, by this time it was becoming a task project managing what was real and what wasn't, going to the toilet etc. let alone relocating a blue chip German company that ran on precision. We would have been put up against a wall and shot within a week.
The insanity still amuses me; by the way, the joke notes will always get through rather than the real ones, they have a little impish energy that propels them towards who they were originally intended for.
REACTIONSAscending | Descending
Saturday, 31 October 2009
Good story. just last week I was in Hungary working and it was the anniversary of the failed 1956 revolution by the Hungarians against the Ruskies. My driver said most Hungarians still hated the Russians and still hated the Gremans for involving them in WW2.
We here in the colonies however seem to love anyone who attacks us. We clammor for anything Japanese or German and declair it better than any American product. I drive Fords and Chevys, can't stand Hondas and BMW's. And I wans't born until the year after the war when they were still trying to hang Germans quickly in Nuremburg before they could commit suicide. I have visited Germany, I thought it was beautiful but the people, although friendly, were loud and boisterous in the beer halls and drank like fish. It was all you could do to hear the drunken Americans and Brits over them.
We here in the colonies however seem to love anyone who attacks us. We clammor for anything Japanese or German and declair it better than any American product. I drive Fords and Chevys, can't stand Hondas and BMW's. And I wans't born until the year after the war when they were still trying to hang Germans quickly in Nuremburg before they could commit suicide. I have visited Germany, I thought it was beautiful but the people, although friendly, were loud and boisterous in the beer halls and drank like fish. It was all you could do to hear the drunken Americans and Brits over them.
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