Nope.  Keep trying, folks.

D-

> On Jan 19, 2017, at 9:33 PM, archer75--- via Mercedes <mercedes@okiebenz.com> 
> wrote:
> 
> On Thu, 19 Jan 2017 20:57:04 -0500
> Dan Penoff via Mercedes <mercedes@okiebenz.com> wrote:
> 
>> Trivia question:  What was Ludmilla’s full name?
>> 
>> D-
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> Full name: Liudmyla Mykhailivna Pavlychenko 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyudmila_Pavlichenko
> 
> From WW-2 era:
> 
> "Ludmilla, the Soviet lassie,
> 
> Has many a notch in her gun;
> 
> She thinks it a trifle to pick up a rifle
> 
> And blow out the brains of a Hun.
> 
> If cartridges happen to fail her,
> 
> She’s equally expert with steel;
> 
> She uses a dagger to cut off the swagger
> 
> Of ev’ry Hilterian heel.
> 
> 
> 
> The Finns and Rumanians dread her;                                            
>   
> 
> Their leader has only to cry;                                                 
>              
> 
> ‘Ach, here comes Ludmilla, the demon guerilla.’                               
>  
> 
> And back to their bases they fly.                                         
> 
> Contrariwise, Russians adore her-                                             
>           
> 
> The gal with the gat in her gown;              
> 
> From Omsk to Tiflis the redoubtable miss
> 
> Is toasted by country and town.
> 
> 
> 
> But where is the Muscovite hero                                               
>            
> 
> Would venture Ludmilla to date?                                               
>           
> 
> Her great reputation for swift liquidation                                    
>         
> 
> Would make her a perilous mate.                                               
>                
> 
> One man, and one only is worthy;                                              
>                
> 
> I move , Mr Chief Commissar-                
> 
> And the motion is carried- that she shall be married                         
> 
> To Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.*
> 
> - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
> 
> *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abdul_Abulbul_Amir
> 
> 
> 
>    The sons of the Prophet are brave men and bold
>    And quite unaccustomed to fear,
>    But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Shah,
>    Was Abdul Abulbul Amir.
> 
>    If you wanted a man to encourage the van,
>    Or harass the foe from the rear,
>    Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout
>    For Abdul Abulbul Amir.
> 
>    Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame
>    In the troops that were led by the Czar,
>    And the bravest of these was a man by the name
>    Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
>    One day this bold Russian, he shouldered his gun
>    And donned his most truculent sneer,
>    Downtown he did go where he trod on the toe
>    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
> 
>    Young man, Abdul roared, with your life are you bored
>    That you wish to end your career?
>    Vile infidel, know, you have trod on the toe
>    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
> 
>    So take your last look at the sunshine and brook
>    And send your regrets to the Czar
>    For by this I imply, you are going to die,
>    Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
>    Then this bold Mameluke drew his trusty skibouk,
>    Singing, "Allah! Il Allah! Akbar!"
>    And with murderous intent he ferociously went
>    For Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
>    They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed,
>    Of blood they spilled a great part;
>    The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes,
>    Say that hash was first made on the spot.
> 
>    They fought all that night neath the pale yellow moon;
>    The din, it was heard from afar,
>    And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame,
>    Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar.
> 
>    As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life,
>    In fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
>    He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck,
>    Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
>    The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly,
>    Expecting the victor to cheer,
>    But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh,
>    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
> 
>    There's a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls,
>    And graved there in characters clear,
>    Is, "Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul
>    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir."
> 
>    A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night
>    Caused ripples to spread wide and far,
>    It was made by a sack fitting close to the back,
>    Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
>    A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps,
>    'Neath the light of the cold northern star,
>    And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps,
>    Is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> It's a slow evening.
> Gerry
> 
> ---
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