‘BLIMEY! They’re coming out of their trenches. It’s a truce! I’ll go and meet them.’
– ‘Guten abend, Tommy. Ve haf come to – how you say it? – flatten pies with you.’
‘Evenin’ Fritz. You mean “fraternise”.’
– ‘Ja, flatten pies. Ve vish to make clear our war aims. Ve believe you should give up life’s comforts and conveniences to combat ze global varming, even though it will leave you poorer and colder.’
‘Global warmin’? But it’s bloody freezing here. We could do with bit of heat – I’m boiling my tea water with a candle.’
– ‘You should also disrupt your whole vay of life because of a virus, even though it mainly causes just a few coughs and sniffles.’
‘Coughs? Here, try smoking a Woodbine, Fritz. Then you’ll know about coughs!’
– ‘You should give up your sovereignty and rejoin our superstate, which is a land of plenty with all peoples living in harmony.’
‘And have to eat sauerkraut and bratwurst? Not bloody likely, mate. I’d miss my fish and chips too much.’
– ‘You also need to become gender aware.’
‘Oh, all right, mate. We’ll call this No Person’s Land – will that do you?’
– ‘Britischer, you may joke, but your position is hopeless. All these things ve are telling you are being demanded even by some in your own High Command.’
‘Well, you know the saying, Fritz – lions led by donkeys. Or, in our case, sceptics led by s**ts.’
– ‘If you do not surrender to our demands, tomorrow ve shall start bombarding you relentlessly again with propaganda pom-poms, scare-story shells and misinformation mortars.’
‘You do your worst, Fritz. We’ll just soldier on. Bye, then.’
– ‘Auf wiedersehen. By ze vay, Tommy, haf you any spare candles?’
‘Yeah, I can give you a few. Have yours burned out?’
– ‘Er, no, ve haf eaten zem all.’
‘Hmm. Land of plenty, eh? Happy Christmas, Fritz.’
