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That's not it

The Second World War was at its height and all the men of military service age were being called up. Casey, untypical of the Irish, did not relish this at all. He always stated that his religion was devout coward and determined to do everything he could to miss the draft. But the military police were persistent and finally tracked him down and dragged him off to Catterick Camp for training.

From the first moment of arrival Casey began acting strangely. He took to walking around the camp, pointing to things and saying: That's not it, that's not it, no that's not it!'

This went on day after day. 'That's not it, no that's not it!' He even gave up eating in favour of wandering round the mess hall pointing to plates, cups, chairs, tables and saying: 'That's not it, and that's not it!'

Eventually the sergeant took Casey to the MO complaining that the man appeared deranged.

'Sit down,'said the MO.

'No, that's not it!' said Casey.

'Well, lie on the couch,' said the medico.

'No, that's not it!'

'Have a cup of tea?'

'No, that's not it!'


'That's not it!'

'A large whiskey?'

'No, that's not it!'

'Well, I'm baffled,' said the doctor. 'This is the strangest behaviour I've ever seen. You're obviously well off your chump. You're totally nuts. I'm giving you this medical discharge form.'

Casey grabbed the document, read it - 'Unfit to serve' - clutched it to his chest and said:

"This is it!'


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