My father told some interesting stories about his time in the service.
He was stationed overseas in WWII.
He professed to speak six languages, English, French, Italian, German, Russian and Latin.
I think he exaggerated.
One fine spring day he was guarding the gate of a POW hospital when a German patient on crutches came up to him with his girlfriend at his side and with gestures indicated he wanted to pick some flowers, outside the gate, for his girl.
My father responded, “Nein!”
The POW tried again.
Frustrated and wanting the soldier to go back to the hospital, my father brandished his rifle at the two of them and yelled in his best German accent, “Nein! Nein bloomin flicken!”
I'm not sure but I don’t think 'bloomin flicken' is in the German dictionary!