That Was Jersey |
Local history for everyone |
Occupation
Living without
Or what?
During the early stages of the Occupation those who owned anything for which there was a big demand got round the law regulating prices by offering their goods, not for sale, but in exchange for some other specified article, "Or what?"
Will someone tell me what is "What"?
It's something that I need a lot;
Something that, if I had it, would
Procure me everything that's good.
When I survey the "Evening Post,"
The column that attracts me most
Is that which tells about the range
Of treasures offered in exchange
For other things I haven't got
"Or what?"
Exchange: - A toothbrush; nearly new,
For half a pint of liquid glue,
Or What?
A box of really good cigars
For gallon of Martell, Three Stars,
Or What?
A conscientious objector
For a fat Jurat, or a Rector,
Or What?
Exchange: - A Berkshire sow, with litter
For half a dozen casks of bitter,
Or What?
Exchange: - Commission in Luftwaffer
For chickens' food or next best offer,
Or What?
A month's supply of "ration" meat
For anything that's fit to eat,
Or What?
Exchange: - Although the flesh is coarse,
" A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"
Or what?
Exchange: - For free (or other) pardon
Castle and grounds at Berchtesgarten,
Or What?
I know a man who must have got
A lot
Of "WHAT".
His cellars bulge with logs and coals,
(While mine are merely full of holes);
He owns at least three decent suits,
A Macintosh and Rubber boots;
His collars' edges haven't gone;
His cuffs have got no whiskers on.
By close inspection, I have learned
His overcoat has not been turned,
(While mine - that has been turned - I've found
Now buttons up the wrong way round.)
He's the luckiest man in St Helier;
There's nothing he cannot obtain;
And the reason for this I can tell yer
Is plain.
He has plenty of food, drink and firing,
Because he has stored such a lot
Of what everyone is requiring
That's "WHAT".
For he is the man who replies to
Advertisements every day
(The small and the medium size too)
Which say,
"My worldly possessions, in part, or
It may be, the whole bally lot,
I am ready and willing to barter
For 'WHAT?'"
I fear I shall never know what it
Can be that the public so lacks,
But, whatever "WHAT" is, he has got it,
Yes! Sacks!!
For his coal fires are constantly roaring;
He wallows in baths, piping hot;
And cartloads of timber he's storing,
For "WHAT?"
On chops, if they're juicy and fat, or
On ducklings, or lamb and mint sauce,
Or sirloin he feeds as a matter
Of course.
Cigarettes he secures by the stack; o-
-ver twenty-five "hundreds" he's got;
And he's scooped seven kegs of tobacco,
For "WHAT?"
Good whisky he always keeps handy;
His cocktails are potent, but pure;
With his coffee he sips a large brandy
Liqueur.
In short, of the men of St Helier,
The luckiest bloke of the lot
Is the feller who knows how to tell yer
What's "WHAT"?
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