Saturday, 19 October 2013

the blue baron

Der Blauer Barron

A Tragicomic Tale From My Memories Of Telling Jokes And Retelling Them In My Own Inimitable Way, At Times, Successfully.  I Apologize In Advance For Telling You A Tale That You’ve Already Heard, In Other Languages Or Dialects.  If You Don’t Laugh, You Have To Groan, At Least, Or As Best You Are Able, At This Time.

I Think This Might Make A Good Stage Production For A Talented Producer-Director, Somewhere Out There In My Readerships.

By Izzy Ess of Trouble in Paradise-Ness

During World War I, a German Boat was patrolling the North Atlantic when it’s mighty engines failed and the boat, Der Blauer Barron started drifting with the Gulf Stream currents, back toward Great Britain and the Emerald Isle, and coasts of Portugal and France.  There was safe havens in some ports in Ireland, but the radios were out because a radio transmission would alert the Allies that there was a German Boat in trouble and quite vulnerable.  Moreover, safe havens were mickle fewer than the unsafe ones.  Der Kapitan, Hermann Heilbrunner, chose to drop his underwater bombs and huge torpedoes which would be dangerous if Allied forces found Der Boot and torpedoed it or dropped their bombs from aeroplanes.  Der Kapitan Heilbrunner also worried ‘bout the men aboard his ship who would be bored by doing nothing and there might be nervous tension and they might mutiny.  Der Kapitan asked his executives what might they do to occupy the sailors’ minds to help prevent disgruntlement and mutiny.  A low ranked sailor did propose the men be asked to build an “Oogelmacher.”  Der Kapitan, quite frankly, had no notion what an Oogelmacher was, but he did not want to seem so uninformed.  So he asked the swabby, “Will there be enough men to build an Oogelmacher?”  The swabby answered, “Ganz genug, Mein Kapitan!”  “And, will there be enough material to build it?” fragt der Kapitan.  “O, ja, ja, mein Kapitan.  Es gibt genug verbaung in das Boot!“  „Wunderbar!  So bitte, mache dass Oogelmacher.  Sicher und schnell!“  And off the swabby went to organize the men and gather the materials to build the Oogelmacher.  Der Kapitan so krutzed sein kopf.  Er hat keine Anung wass ein Oogelmacher sei.  But, he conceded that the men looked happier immediately and the started their big project.

Ten days went by and on the deck a tower, like the Eiffel Tower took some shape.  Also, there was a globe of sorts.  It was made of curved pieces of metal and looked heavy.  As the tower was constructed, it had an arm like one does see on skyscrapers to assist in placing vital elements and structures on the higher floors, of say, an apartment building.  This arm had a trough like structure and could be swivelled in all directions.  In twenty days, there was a completely formed tower shaped exactly like the Eiffel one.  In the middle was that heavy globe with many spaces on its surface.  It seemed big enough to hold a man inside.  The central structure of the tower was a hoist that could lift the globe-like structure up toward the swiveling trough-like rotating extension.

On the 22nd day, the swabby with the original idea met Der Kapitan in his director’s chair and said, “Es ist bereit, mein Kapitan.  Morgan kunnen wir das Oogle machen, mit dass virklichen Oogelmacher!k  Es ist sicher and ganz bereit!“  Der Kapitan was very happy and he called for a full dress attendance on the deck the following morning at seven bells.  All the sailors and the Captain and his executive officers were dressed up formally and standing at attention at seven bells.  The boson blew the boson’s whistle and then a set of seven drummers made a drum roll for the event that rose in a crescendo as the globe-like structure was lifted up toward the trough-like swivel arm.  As the globe was settled in the trough, Der Kapitan saluted, looking upward to the sky and at the ball is it slowly started rolling on the trough.  The other sailors also did salute and watched the ball as it gathered speed and got to the end of the swivel arm.

All eyes are ears were on the globe as it descended in an arch to hit the water.  A signal from the band leader stopped the drummers drumming.  The globe hit the water with a great big splash and then began to sink.  As the water bubbled through the spaces in the globe, a distinct sound was loud enough to be heard by all who stood upon the deck, still saluting.  The sound was, “Oogel, oogel, oogel,” even after the globe-like structure sand beneath the surface of the North Atlantic.  There was a muffled, “Oogel, oogel, oogel,” for some moments.  Then it stopped.  The Captain and his crew cheered loudly and applauded the good Captain and the entire crew that helped to build Dass Oogelmacher, eh?

Unfortunately, the globe-like structure hit an underwater mine and caused a great explosion and a water squirt up on the surface of the ocean.  This was picked up on the Allied ultrasound detectors and three allied boats went steaming fast toward the German ship.  They surrounded Das Boot and everyone surrendered with a happy face.  They were all still thinking of the Oogelmacher and its distinctive sound.  They all were happy as they were herded off Das Boot, led by a laughing Kapitan, der Hermann Heilbrunner, hands behing his head.

I heard this story in my childhood.  My device was called a cushmaker and it made a splash and the sound of “cush” as it hit the ocean.  When I was studying in Switzerland, a Polish Freedom Fighter who had hidden in train boxcars to excape the Nazis, was working for Hoffman-LaRoche as a pharmaceutical representative.  I can’t remember his name, but I do remember the funny story he told in a German dialect spoken only in the capital of Switzerland, in Bern.  He slowly unravelled the tale of the Oogelmacher and it got applause.  We exchanged some other stories and about a half were stories that we both had heard in Polish, Yiddish and some English many years ago.  I decided that the humourous tales we hear as children are as universal as the music that requires no language barriers to be appreciated.  Beethoven, Mendelsohnn, Ravel and Gershwin are beloved in every country of the world without a single reservation.  These stories that I shared with an international group of listeners were universal and were understood even if one didn’t quite understand the languages or local dialects.

I admit that many of my stories are these universal jokes that I have heard since my father started telling me some jokes when I was only two years old.  He told them to me in Yiddish and his newly learned language, Canadian English.  My favourite uncle, uncle Willie, from the Ukraine, told me a thousand jokes or more in Yiddish and his well-oiled new language, Southern Ontario English, as he taught me to drive his half ton Chevy pick-up, with four on the floor and a choke on the dash, delivering Kosher chickens and eggs to his customers, when I was 13 and 14 years old.  If pressed I think I remember all of them.

Here is one: A nervous man goes to his doctor and demands a complete examination because he is convinced he has a cancer lurking in his gut.  The doctor does a full examination and cannot find a single abnormality.  The patient feels his doctor is holding back and he demands a diagnosis.  The doctor thinks a bit and says, “OK my Mr. Steinberg, I’ve decided you got a Flucky!”  Mr. Steinberg is astounded and he is real nervous as he asks his doctor, “What’s a Flucky?”  The doctor looks as seriously as he can muster and declares, “You got a Flucky that I didn’t say you got a cancer.  Now, go home and be happy that you got a Flucky!”  For those of you that may not be familiar with the Yiddish way of saying things in ironic, sarcastic circles, this means: “You got off lucky!”

THE END

© izzy sommers, md
Welland, Canada

Oktoberfest, 2013

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