Shortly after the war, a young Polish pilot was doing a speaking tour recounting his escapades as one of the valiant “few” during the recent hostilities.
On one occasion he was addressing a meeting of a Women’s institute branch. “One day,” he explained “I vas flying along in my Spitfire ven zis fokker came out of ze cloud and attacked me!”.
The ladies were horrified by his language. They weren’t too sure why, but there was a consensus that this was not the sort of language expected from heroes.
Quick as a flash the vicar – also recently demobbed – jumped to his feet and explained that in fact a Fokker was a German aircraft manufacturer so the word was in fact perfectly acceptably to their delicate feminine ears.
Re-assured by this the ladies relaxed again and the pilot resumed.
“Vell, I sank you for zat explanation, Vicar.” he continued, “However, zis fokker vas a Messerschmitt!”