Aha!

Sorry To Keep Banging On About This -
It's just that the title "It's Greek And Do Squeak" has been haunting me - positively haunting me! - these past few days, and I still don't know what I definitely meant by it.
     Your Humble Scribe, however, has a mind that never sits still, or stands still, which is a bit of a problem when you're trying to a spell of contemplative philosophy, or working out how to parse tensor calculus.  Thus - I have a suggestion as to what I meant.  Art?

Tah-dah!

     Hummus!
     Yes, the classic Greek dish.  Personally I would prefer it if they left the recipe alone and we didn't have Beetroot And Pickled Banana Hummus With Anchovy Heads That Have Their Eyes Left In, and so on.
     "Ah, you have over-reached yourself, Conrad," I hear you burble wisely.  "This dish does not squeak."
     Au contraire, gentle readers.  Do not forget that one of the major ingredients is -  
     Chick peas!

They chirp, yes: they also squeak.  

     Having thus wowed you - I did wow you, didn't I? - I shall now hurl the motley into the swimming pool filled with liquid oxygen whilst it smokes twenty cigarettes simultaneously.*

Speaking Of Self-Indulgent
Today was Double Dinner Day for Your Humble Scribe, because although we were promised pizza, there was no definite time for it's arrival, and Conrad is a big greedy gannet growing lad who needs his vittles.  Thus I had finished Lunch One - tinned sardines, Polish sausage, cucumber, red pepper, salsa dip, a ham roll and some grapes - long before Lunch Two arrived.  Art?

5 slices

     It wasn't that difficult to finish them all off, though having to drink water instead of a can of Old Speckled Hen jibbed a little.  Art?

Conrad 1 Pizza 0

     Delicious!  For the sake of my waistline I dread to think of this becoming a regular event.**

The Battle Of The Build-Up
For Lo!  We are back to Conrad yarking on about what happened after D-Day, and why the Teutons never managed to rush enough reinforcements to Normandy to outnumber the Allies.  We have already touched on how Allied control of the air strangled any Teuton movement by daylight, and the network of lies that fed back false information to the Wehrmacht, keeping an entire Army waiting in the Pas de Calais region for a second invasion that never came.
     Here an aside.  The Teutons were always short of trucks, since their industrial production could never produce enough of this plain yet essential article.  Art?

Truck

     As a stopgap they stole trucks from every other armed force in Europe, which meant a horrendously complicated supply chain that needed to carry stores for a multitude of foreign trucks; and don't mention horse-drawn wagons.  Horses are far inferior to trucks as a means of motive power, and if you'd paid any attention to "Four Years On The Western Front" then you'd know this, too.
     Oh, and moving trucks and hence supplies by night?  It had to be done in the dark, since any headlights or streetlights would have instantly called down the ubiquitous Allied fighters and bombers.  This meant a very high accident rate.

3 points on yer licence, mate.

     Where were we?  Oh yes - intelligence.  The Allies had Enigma information, which was very helpful but didn't win battles for you.  They did know, however, what Teuton formations were going to arrive, and where and when, and so before these divisions could be formed into large reserves in order to counter-attack on a large scale - Ooop!  The Allies attacked.  Thus the Wehrmacht was always reacting, never being proactive, thus constantly on the back foot and having to make policy on the hop, thus allowing the Allies to gradually accumulate forces on their right flank.  This led to a massive breakthrough, as all the Teuton panzer divisions were on the Allied left flank.

In a nutshell

A Double-Dose Of Coincidence Hydra
Yes by Jove, Michael Gove!  Twice within the space of twenty minutes, which fair takes it out of you when you consider how big those fangs are, and they are fastened in your nethers.  Take a look at Clue 4 Down: "What the submarine commander may be travelling under."

Zoinks!

I apologise for the darkness of tone, although when you stop to think about it, such gloom is very appropriate for a blog that positively revels in atom bombs and the history of         armed warfare.  Oh - the Coincidence bit?  I was listening to a song called "Zack and Sara" by Ben Folds, and just at the time my glazzies wafted over the clues about a submarine,   why, Sara is stating "You work in a submarine."  She does appear to be completely off her trolley, mind you.                                                                                                           

     Here's Coincidence The Second.  "Where you would find the prisoner with nothing but an instrument (5)".  And the answer, as you can see I got, is "CELLO".
     What instrument did the <thinks of a compliment neither creepy nor cheesy> semi-sublime*** Shelli dig out of a charity shop recently?
     No!  Not a sackbut, you bafoon!  A cello.

                                         Sackbut and cello - a musical pairing made in heaven


"The Hood Battalion" By Leonard Sellers
Before you start up, No!  This is nothing to do with that villainous Asian chump from the stable of futurologist Gerry Anderson and "Thunderbirds"; you know, the one with a bizarre vision impairment that made his eyes light up.  Handy ability to have in a power-cut, mind.

How to scare cats The Hood way!

     Let us bring in Art to settle matters.  Art?

My edition

     I wouldn't expect you to know this, but at the outbreak of the First Unpleasantness there were so many reservists who had previously served with the Royal Navy - excuse me!  - the Mighty Royal Navy, that there were loads left over as surplus.  Seeing that modern warfare required lots and lots of infantry, these spares were promptly swept up and assembled into the Royal Naval Division, one of the more unusual formations that Perfidious Albion fielded.  Initially, as can be seen above, they paraded around in literal Navy blue, sporting a "tally" (which you or I would call a "Name badge") on their cap.  Their ranks remained naval in nomenclature, they kept naval terms and were generally quite proud to be different to the massed khaki ranks of the Army.  Esprit de Corps, you see.  Their nickname at first was "Winston's Little Army" since the moving power behind their establishment was that all-round character Mr. W. Churchill.  Art?
         




And there, having hit well beyond the ton, we shall leave this story, except to tease you with the operations around Antwerp ...




*  Motleys - so self-indulgent.
**  Not really.
***  Being wholly sublime would lead to swollen head, so we must temper this a little