- Contributed by
- CSV Action Desk/BBC Radio Lincolnshire
- People in story:
- Jim Stubley
- Location of story:
- Rippingdale, Lincs
- Background to story:
- Article ID:
- Contributed on:
- 22 August 2005
My dad was too old for Dad's Army,
So he joined the fire brigade.
He had Walter, Peth and Job for mates
And a dashing fire brigade they made.
They were measured for their uniforms
My dad had the broadest chest of all
It was bigger than Peth Palmer's
But he was nowhere near as tall
They kept their engine in the barn
At the top of Middle Street,
And off they'd trot for practice
Their engine had no driving seat.
The engine was on two wheels
And down the lane they'd go
Although the brigade was near pension age
No-one could say that it was slow.
The firemen got their water from a pond
The pond never did run dry.
Job would fire the water at the sun
To make a rainbow in the sky.
We had one fire bomb at Rippingdale
It was dropped near the parson's pond
The seven bombs that followed on
Were dropped in the fields beyond
All the bombs had missed their target
Not a single fire was made
It seemed a shame with all that practice
There was no call for our village fire brigade
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