Wodehouse in Exile Page #2

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right place for me, then.

Gentlemen!

My name is Buchelt.

I am the camp leader,

as you say in English.

Or Der Lagerfuhrer, as we say

in the German language.

I have learned my English

in a good school.

I was interned in England

during the last war,

which by some mistake you English

seem to have won!

He reminds me strongly of my mother.

It's Plum's stepdaughter here.

Leonora Cazalet.

'Oh, Leonora.

I'm having trouble hearing.'

There's a bombing raid on

at the moment. Very boring.

We wanted to know

if there was any news of Plum.

'Are you all right, Leonora?'

No, no, no, we're fine.

Britain can take it, Mr Reynolds.

'Though I think we'd all be

frightfully pleased

'if you lot cared to lend us a hand!'

Some of us wish we could.

I'm glad you managed to

get your mother some money.

We haven't heard a thing,

I'm afraid. But we have...

My God!

'What?'

It's him! It's a postcard!

Read it to me!

"Am in lunatic asylum

near Polish border.

"Goodness knows

when you will get this.

"Will you send me

a five-pound parcel?

"One pound Prince Albert tobacco,

the rest nut chocolate.

"Repeat monthly."

"Am quite happy here

and have thought out new novel.

"Am hoping to be able to write it."

Isn't he your perfect author,

Mr Reynolds?

The Germans shove him

behind barbed wire

and all he can think about is

the next Jeeves book.

We have to try and get him

out of there.

"The great advantage here is that

the authorities leave you alone

"for most of the day,

so I have time to write.

"It's all quite fun, actually.

"If you see a German officer,

you are supposed to shout, "Achtung"

"and stand to attention.

"Plenty of scope for practical jokes

"on the lines of the old

game of Beaver!

"I do miss you, Bunny darling."

What are you writing now, Wodehouse?

A letter to my wife.

Where is she?

My stepdaughter got her some money.

She seems to be still

stuck in France.

I never married.

Never found the right woman.

I admire you, Wodehouse.

You manage to keep so calm.

How do you do it?

I write. Anything.

Novels, letters, anything.

Actually, I am writing a sort

of diary of the life of an internee.

I bet it's a laugh.

Can we hear a bit?

It's awfully rough at the moment.

Oh.

But...

Well, er...

Well, this is one of our many stops

on the way to this holiday camp.

Loos prison.

For those who remember it.

"Owing to having led a blameless

life since infancy, I had never seen

"the inside of a calaboose before

"and directly I set eyes

on the official

"in the front office of Loos Prison,

I regretted that I was doing so now.

"There are moments, as we pass

through life, when we gaze

"into a stranger's face and say to

ourselves, "I have met a friend."

"This was not one of

those occasions.

"There is probably nobody

in the world less elfin than

"a French prison official. And the

one twirling his moustache at me

"looked like something

out of a film about Devil's Island.

"When I got out into the exercise

yard next morning

"and met some of the men who had

been in the place for a week,

"I found that they, on arrival,

had been stood with their faces to

"the wall, stripped to their BVDs,

deprived of all their belongings

"and generally made to feel like so

many imprisoned pieces of cheese."

More!

Yes, come on, Plum.

Why is cheese a funny word?

It is though, isn't it?

Cheese!

Always good for a chuckle is cheese.

I'm er... I'm 60 next month.

They're going to let me out.

If you need any money, my agent

is sending me food parcels

and trying to get my royalties from

German translations of my books.

You're too good for

this world, Plum.

Achtung, chaps.

Prisoner 796! Whitehousen!

To see the Lagerfuhrer!

Oh, Lord! What have I done now?

At ease!

Your English is frightfully good.

We have received many letters

about you, Herr Wodehouse.

It seems we have a famous author

in our camp.

Well... author, anyway.

The daughter of your wife

and your American agent lead

a campaign for your release.

I don't want to be treated any

differently to anyone else.

The old school tie. The monocle.

The spats. Ja?

If you say so.

Bertie Wooster. I Agree, Jeeves!

It is a very funny book.

I don't think

I wrote a book called...

Oh. Right Ho, Jeeves!

What is this "Right Ho?"

I have read your work,

Herr Wodehouse.

The bread rolls at the Drones Club.

Lord Emsworth.

He loves his pig.

It is most amusing.

Thank you.

An American journalist

from the Associated Press wishes to

make an interview with you.

Well... I can't see

what harm that would do.

"I say, old bean.

Shall we have snorter?"

It's the start of

the show and a bit of a frost

Because all of us

are imprisoned in Tost!

Tost... Frost. Very good.

Well, you wrote it, Plum.

I had no idea I was that good.

Who gave him the typewriter?

The Lagerfuhrer. Lent to him.

He had to pay,

but... decent of him, wasn't it?

You'll get into trouble. Saying

nice things about the Germans!

Oh, for God's sake, you little tick!

Come on then, chaps.

It's the start of the show...

So how are they treating you,

Mr Wodehouse?

Well, they're not beating me

with rubber truncheons or anything.

I am being fed and so on.

Is there anything you have to say

to the American people?

I know you have many readers

in America.

Oh, gosh.

Er, tell them I'm OK.

And thanks for the food parcels.

Don't make too much of me.

May we go over to the camp

and take a few pictures?

Naturally.

Not all Germans are beasts,

you know, Mr Thuermer.

I am the only beast, I think!

That's wonderful, Mr Wodehouse.

Don't look too wonderful,

old bean, will you?

You're supposed to look beaten

and abject and cruelly mistreated.

Mr Mackintosh has a dark,

witty side to him.

Maybe we should have a picture

of you and Mr Mackintosh together.

Oh, no, no, no! No.

Are they really treating you OK?

I'm afraid they are, on the whole.

Plum's writing a book about it.

He made us all laugh with it.

Are you chaps going to

come into the war?

Nobody quite knows at the moment.

Plack.

Didn't you know

Wodehouse in Hollywood?

I did.

Some American journalist

named Thuermer managed to find out

he's interned in a civilian camp

in Tost.

He's done an interview and the

New York Times are running it.

What does he say about us?

He says we feed him.

He is quite nice.

Wodehouse is incapable of being

nasty about anyone.

He must be 60 by now.

Do we still keep aliens

in prison after 60?

We release them sometimes.

In this case, I suspect with

a great deal of publicity.

To show the Americans what

nice people we are.

We don't want them in the war, do we?

There are an awful lot of them.

All he says

is that we are feeding him.

If you are thinking you can get him

to do a commercial for Germany,

forget it.

He is the typical, loyal Englishman.

"The first time you see

a German soldier in your garden,

"your impulse is to jump ten feet

straight into the air and you do so.

"But this feeling of

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