John Gibson: The goose-step and a moustache

A 54-year-old Englishman subjected his German neighbours, who migrated to England in 1999, to Vera Lynn classics, the Dambusters March and assorted patriotic themes.

Magistrates down south rebuked the retired maths teacher for being nasty to the Germans and conditionally discharged him for three years.

I daresay the beaks would frown at my confession that when I was a youth (not the Hitler Youth, let me stress) I was given to spasmodic bouts of goose-stepping, the jackboots hardly charmed my dancing partners, and I was apt to stick on a little black moustache. I did impressions.

It was rather good fun. No offence intended, although the Germans by repute lack a sense of humour. I hung out a Union flag from the window on Vera’s 95th birthday last week which, I agree, would get up many a German nose.

And I hope I didn’t annoy my neighbours when I toasted Vera with a brisk chorus of Hang Out The Washing On The Siegfried Line which made No 1 in the charts in the Forties.

Now, where’s that little moustache . . .

Eye of beholder

Odd bod. Odd name. Odd appearance. Odd altogether. Benedict Cabbagepatch. How does what seems like a nice, ordinary but dishy girl like Lydia Teapot get involved with a guy like him?

There’s no accounting for it and, I dare say, I’m something of a vegetable myself. The duo have been swanning around Hollywood. They’re the talk of Tinseltown.

The Cabbage reportedly is mad keen to marry the girl and produce “lots of babies”. You’re laughing already.