Nazi Jokes

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    World War II Pilots

    Hot 5 months ago

    An American pilot who had downed a German Messerschmidt, visited the German pilot in the field hospital. Finding the fellow in pretty bad shape, the American asked if he could do anything for him.
    The Nazi admitted that he did have a favour to ask. "The leg they amputated, on your next bombing run, could you drop it over Germany?"
    "Sure, pal."
    It was a pretty weird request, but the pilot was happy to oblige and came back to tell him the mission had been carried out.
    The grateful German gasped his thanks, and another request. "The other leg got very bad, they had to cut it off. Could this, too, be dropped over my homeland? It would mean a great deal to me."
    The American shrugged, but returned two days later with the news that the job was done.
    "Many thanks," whispered the downed Nazi, now ashen faced and unable to lift his head from the pillow. "I have just one final request. Last night they had to amputate my right more...

    Where does Hitler keep his armies?

    -In his slievies.

    How does Hilter tie his shoes?

    -In little Nazis!

    An American pilot who had downed a German Messerschmidt, visited the German
    pilot in the field hospital. Finding the fellow in pretty bad shape, the
    American asked if he could do anything for him.
    The Nazi admitted that he did have a favour to ask. "The leg they amputated, on
    your next bombing run, could you drop it over Germany?"
    "Sure, pal."
    It was a pretty weird request, but the pilot was happy to oblige and came back
    to tell him the mission had been carried out.
    The grateful German gasped his thanks, and another request. "The other leg got
    very bad, they had to cut it off. Could this, too, be dropped over my homeland?
    It would mean a great deal to me."
    The American shrugged, but returned two days later with the news that the job
    was done.
    "Many thanks," whispered the downed Nazi, now ashen faced and unable to lift his
    head from the pillow. "I have just one final request. Last night more...

    One evening, a Polak named Stosh Manzarek heard a loud knock on his front door from the Nazi police.
    "Open up! It's the police!"
    Stosh asked his friend, "What do I do? When they hear my name and find out I'm Polish, they'll kill me!"
    "Relax," said the friend. "Just use a different name, like Fromheim, or Heimlich, or-"
    "Okay, okay!"
    Stosh opens the door and a Nazi police officer is standing there.
    "Name?"
    Stosh answers, "Abraham Goldman."

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