Judge, 1927-08-13 · page 12 of 36
Judge — August 13, 1927 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Black Buzzard of Britain" This is a humorous fictional story by S. J. Perelman, a famous American humorist, presented as WWI aviation fiction. The narrative parodies heroic war literature: Major Perelman is supposedly a celebrated British flying ace in combat above No Man's Land in 1915. The satire lies in undercutting this heroism. Rather than depicting intense aerial combat, the story shows the pilot and his observer "Nervous George" O'Shaughnessy gambling with dice during their dangerous mission—shooting craps at 9,000 feet. The bottom illustration depicts them casually playing dice inside the aircraft while Death literally rides the fuselage. The joke satirizes both overwrought war fiction and the absurdity of risking one's life for trivial pursuits. By treating a combat mission as backdrop for casual gambling and banter, Perelman mocks the romanticization of war and the disconnect between real danger and human behavior. The repeated dice-rolling and casual dialogue ("This ain't no mug's game") emphasize the surreal triteness.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE The BLACK BUZZARD He battled with death in the skies —for an ideal—and won, but the price he paid— The story of the great English ace, Major S. J. (Peaches) Perel- man, told to himself by S. J. Perelman. Cuapter I Ten thousand feet above the barren waste of No Man's d, on the afternoon of June 23, 1915, there took place one of the most thrilling encounters that the secret archives of any European country boast Tense at the controls of his giant Walkover Narroy bombing plane, Major Sir Sidney Derek Jeremy Perelman, known to the brother officers of his regi- ent as Peaches, narrowed his es to mere pin-points of light as the huge bird of prey climbed higher and higher into the rarefied atmosphere. Seven thousand five hundred feet below small puffs of smoke were all that marked the presence of embattled Europe. Behind the dz Major in the cockpit sat rvous George” O'Shaughnessy of the Royal Fly- ing Corps, and grim-jawed Death rode on the fuselage (not bad, hey, boys?). They had reached an altitude of over nine thousand feet when the indomitable pilot turned from his controls to O'Shaughnessy. “George,” he said, “George, are v Ton “Practically,” replied George, fumbling in his vest pocket; “that is, all except for grim-jawed Death there riding on the’ fuse- lage. “Never mind him,” answered or; “hand over the tools. Are we ready? ... Then modest two bits. ded,” was O'Shaughnessy’s only word, as he discarded a “Cap'n, our fog horn is busted!” Pp. g “WHAT!!2” OF BRITAIN flicker of an ) h. With the practiced hand of the experienced chiropractor, Major Perelman shook the bones and laid out a pretty little seven on the lower wing. “Shoot the works, sweetheart,” he said coolly, preparing to roll again, “Ho K.,” responded George, throwing down a handful of coins. The dice kissed each other, shook with passion, and revealed an- other natural. George gritted his teeth and = watched Perelman narrowl The latter hesitated, then d ely threw ter without the down a ‘George paled. he asked, ing. “You mean hoot four bits,” said Perel- man coldly. “All or any part of it. This ain’t no mug’s game.” “Gad!” said O'S! with awe in his fa the French call you his voice ughnessy No wonder Chou-Chou Croutons (Perelman the sked the Major, his steely gray eyes glittering behind his flight goggles, “am I faded or ain't I?” ‘Tiny beads of per- spiration stood out on George's forchead and his lip trembled. Then he pulled himself together and flung down a half dollar. The “Gawd bless ye; Cap’n, if you can ask me that every ten seconds we’re saved.” comicbooks.com