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Our Kaga

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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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526 of 616  Thu 28th Feb 2019 10:26am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

COMEDY OF ERRORS - ACT 2 Receptionist, "The doc' wants to have a chat with you". Doc, "Maybe a little risk more than first thought, when did you stop taking the blood thinning pills?" "Five days ago when we got the letter for the op". "Then sign here and here, your blood's too thin. I will have to look at you inside, there's always a chance I might catch the bowel and 'phut'. Get on the table, let's have a look". Gowned up, no gas, no needle, no painkillers. A circular screen looking down on me, in goes the camera - like Tyson had hit me below the belt! A dull yellow moon gazed on me. "Have to put some water in", said the doc. The picture cleared a little, he swished the camera around and now the sun was rising on the screen, to a mid-day colour. "No can do", said the doc, "you will have to come back in a fortnight's time". Out comes the camera - Tyson below the belt again. "Too risky". I come home. Now, if without the pills I have a clot, reaches the heart, "Phut" - reaches the brain, "Stroke again", reminds me. Open the door, the flies swarm in. Close the door, I'm sweating again. Just one darned thing after t'other.
Our Kaga
Midland Red
Cherwell
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527 of 616  Thu 28th Feb 2019 11:49am  
Moderator: Joined Jan 2010  Total posts:5343

O M G Oh my
Our Kaga
Dreamtime
Perth Western Australia
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528 of 616  Thu 28th Feb 2019 12:02pm  
Member: Joined Jan 2010  Total posts:3334

On 28th Feb 2019 11:49am, Midland Red said: O M G Oh my
Ditto MR. An absolute disgrace messing a patient around like that. Angry Angry
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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529 of 616  Sat 2nd Mar 2019 11:50am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

FACT. When the lorry finally stopped, and we clambered down, we saw an old fortress/castle, at least 800 years old. This was to be our home for the next two weeks. It was only about 10 am but the sun burnt down from a cloudless sky. This colossal grey stone fortress stood about thirty feet high, the top row had gaps about a foot wide, at one corner a massive square tower rising at least sixty feet into the sky was built half in and half out of the wall. The door was little more than a postern door. My friends groaned. The whole stood on a rock base - on the far side was a sandy beach before the sea. Inside, engineers had placed an army hut, electric generator, a huge water tank and everything we needed. We each claimed a camp bed in the hut, officer and NCOs camped in the built in rooms on the far wall. Worn stone steps climbed the wall to the parapet, inside the tower another set led to a room and the parapet. Here we would set up a look-out post, with machine gun and small searchlight, where we would operate a three man team, on four hour shifts - the rest of the time we would relax, read, write or swim. My childhood dream come true. We learnt that this had once been a biblical port called Ashkelon, and about two hundred yards away was an outdoor museum of artefacts in a rocky shale hollow. About 3/4 days, a friend and I visited this, but my friend was moaning about a new rookie that was a pain in the butt, and had been caught cheating at cards, and he was threatening to damage the guy. There was a small iron ring hanging almost loose on a spindle. He took a rock and prised it off. Inside there was an inscription we could not read. Suddenly there was a shout and whistles blowing, then a guy appeared on the rim of the crater, beckoning at us. My friend threw the ring at the spindle, knocking it over. He then stood it upright, placed the ring back and joined me heading for the top of the rim. There had been a fatal accident with two of the new rookies. The guy he had been threatening had been killed. Outside there were Military Police, a meat wagon, and a lot of confusion. The padre was leaving in a jeep with an MP driver. He spotted me. I thought he was about to stop, but they swept away in front of the ambulance. I had done numerous religious tours with the padre so he knew me personally. Our group were sent back to camp and replaced by others. Two days later we were on parade at his funeral. One of the pallbearers lowering the rope with coffin stepped back, disappeared in a newly dug grave behind him - this upset the balance, the coffin nosedived into the grave, the union jack slid down, and it was macabre. A few weeks later and my friend was in a motor accident and died. We buried him a few graves away from the other guy. FICTION. The guy had held the ring in his hand at the time he threatened the guy, who died that instant. He had then thrown it down, the spindle had tilted (like the coffin), he had then discarded the ring. The inscription in the ring said "Whatever the holder of this ring asks will be done, whoever holds this ring and discards it will die an unseemly death".
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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530 of 616  Thu 7th Mar 2019 1:49pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

Many years ago there lived in King Street a well-to-do manufacturer, who had a hasty disposition. In an excitable moment he struck one of his female workers, who summoned him for assault. He pleaded not guilty. She threatened him that something heavy would fall at his door for saying so. The manufacturer went home with a friend and whilst they were standing outside the house talking over the case, there chanced to come along the street a very large boiler, drawn by six dray horses, going to be placed in some works in Bedworth. When the dray were opposite them, the wheels gave way under the weight onto the ground, the boiler rolled towards them. In a state of alarm they just had time to jump out the way.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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531 of 616  Sun 10th Mar 2019 11:51am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

In the distance the risen sun was kissing the highest peaks of the mountains. The tortuous shale strewn road turned treacherous to the screaming tyres, a narrow winding road, plunging gorges into the yawning darkness below. The cold mountain air whipped the padre's coat, who sat beside me. We had removed our berets. "Did Moses really climb these mountains to accept the words of God?" whirled through my mind. Two eagles spiralled skywards. The padre had an invitation to some religious meeting in Jerusalem that would last about an hour, he would then take a few of us on a religious tour in the Holy City. We would normally have been in an Army lorry, but today we were driven in two jeeps by Military Police, two to each jeep, who also had orders to visit Jerusalem. As we descended the mountain, pools where river warblers sang, goldfinch with rose-coloured breast, and gaily coloured fish swam. The MP's dropped the padre at his destination, then we three at the YMCA. They then sped off. The city was packed with visitors and our escort police were now on full alert as they left us. About an hour later the padre joined us. He looked as though he had been deeply shocked, an uneasiness about him. We commenced our tour of the old city wall - the stark massive wall rose about 30ft, a grey stone barricade, looked as if it could have restrained a number of tanks. It still had little damage or marks on the length still standing (about half a mile). All around were pieces of stone laying as if for a thousand years no one had been near. We then toured the Temple Mount site of Solomon. Our time was up, we returned to the YMCA, joined the two jeeps and returned over the mountains, 40-45 miles back to camp. On the journey back the padre confided in me. The meeting had been attended by world religious leaders, museum, and others. A number of ancient priceless parchments had been discovered in some mountain caves. Religions of all types were now responsible for sharing these scrolls to the world. The contents had yet to be fully known, and studied, before all was known.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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532 of 616  Sat 23rd Mar 2019 2:24pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

It was early morning in April 1957 when I walked into the Casino Cafe in the Lower Precinct. As I ordered a cup of tea I glanced in the mirror on the back wall and halfway down the counter was a young woman. Our eyes met and she half-smiled in surprise. Ginny. I hadn't seen Ginny since we were about eight years old. I took my tea and sat beside her, but behind the half-smile was deep anguish. I shifted uneasy, unsure what to make of her apparent anguish, her eyes welling from some emotion. Her voice choked with pain. She blurted out, "It's David!" Ihad known Ginny, and her family, for the first eight years of our lives - we grew up like brothers and sisters, then her family had moved out the district. But unknown to Ginny I had seen her brother David several times at race meetings. He had always been a thief, a conman, fraudster, dealer in stolen goods, and in trouble with the police, but he was always immaculately dressed. I had to get her out of there to talk. I said, "Not here". She nodded and I took her elbow, moved out the cafe. "My place, just a minute away. We can talk". Two or three minutes later we were in my flat. I gestured for her coat and turned to hang it up. She blurted out, "David has killed someone". I half laughed and said, "Your David couldn't knock the skin off a rice pudding". But the tears were flowing, so I pulled her to me and hugged her. When she composed herself, I said, "Now tell me". The police had David in Lewes Prison on manslaughter charges, in a hit and run charge. I knew Lewes was that grade of prison, but said nothing to Ginny. She had just come from Coventry Station from enquiring the train to Lewes for the next morning. "Okay, I'll come with you" I said. I explained my lifestyle and we caught up with our past lives, drank coffee. Next morning we met on Coventry Station, caught the train to Brighton, booked rooms for two nights in a guest house, phoned the prison for visiting times, and visited next day. David had once driven me and a mutual friend to a race meeting, and I rated him as a careful and responsible driver but I did not tell Ginny this. David claimed he was not the driver but the passenger, but the police had not caught the guy yet. The car was borrowed from a dodgy source in Coventry, and David asked me to give someone a message in Coventry. He also gave me a few names and pubs in Brighton, and accused the Brighton Police of being corrupt, all done while Ginny was crying. That evening we visited a couple of pubs, made discreet enquires, and found out there were some very dodgy things about the Brighton Police. Next day I asked Ginny to pay David a call without me, but to ask him some questions I wanted. I could not afford to be seen involved as I had been in the said car previously. We came home next morning, but kept in touch by phone. I caught up with the guy who owned the car in a Radford pub, but I suspected it had been stolen. I gave him David's message, and I believe there was a drop in stolen parts from Coventry factories for awhile, but I kept clear and used aliases. We went back to Brighton a few days later, but David was about to be transferred to another prison. The charge had been changed to a number of smaller charges. Ginny spent a couple more days in Brighton then came home. I stayed and found some reporter was in town, also making enquiries. I found out his hotel, phoned him and gave him some of David's accusations, without disclosing our names. He could take it from there. In September the bubble burst. The chief of Brighton Police was sacked, and a couple of detectives jailed.
Our Kaga
Midland Red
Cherwell
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533 of 616  Sat 23rd Mar 2019 6:29pm  
Moderator: Joined Jan 2010  Total posts:5343

Another great story, Kaga - thanks Cheers It wasn't just this case which caused the Brighton Police to be accused of wrong doing, as a quick check on Google produces quite a few links - this is just one of them Oh my
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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534 of 616  Sun 24th Mar 2019 9:10am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

Midland Red, Yes I know, but in a small way Coventry people where involved. I had to make it brief, but there was a lot more detail and I got to know more people and places that you wouldn't really meet. The old jail in Brighton is now a museum and there are many names etched on its wooden doors, some from the Mods and Rockers. I wasn't sure if it went on this forum, so thanks for the kind words. And thanks again for the help in straightening out where I go wrong.
Our Kaga
Wearethemods
Aberdeenshire
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535 of 616  Sun 24th Mar 2019 9:31am  
Member: Joined Jun 2013  Total posts:410

I'm sure there's a CET article about Coventry Mods in Brighton! Smile Edited by member, 24th Mar 2019 9:32 am
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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536 of 616  Sun 24th Mar 2019 11:35am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

Midland Red, Sherry's was a well known dance bar, rowdy, seedy, and shady deals for locals. Ginny had asked me to take her somewhere she saw as real Brighton, the sort of place she had read about, so we went to Sherry's, They had a three piece band. While I was about to getting drinks a guy asked her to dance. They danced, Ginny wasn't happy. Ginny was neither plain or stunning, she had a soft mouth and nice skin. The guy came and asked her again - she refused politely. He was about to say something, I gave him a look, he changed his mind. He was wearing a leather jerkin. He drew himself up stiffly, he was still two inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than me. Ginny said, "Some creep asks you to dance and they think they own you". Half an hour we left, to walk on the seafront. He came out the shadows, the guy in the leather jerkin. His right hand came from behind his back, a broken jagged bottle. He stood there looking at me trying to drum up courage. I pushed Ginny to one side. "Don't scream", I said between clenched teeth, "the guy's a punk". He lunged at me with the bottle, I side-stepped and kicked his arm viciously. He screamed, dropped the bottle, I sank my fist with a right-cross into his neck. He began to topple, I grabbed his neck in a chancery, twisted round and heaved him right off the ground for a few seconds, then I let him drop. Ginny stood there motionless - she didn't look frightened but I had the feeling she was, her face was taut-pale-wild. We went for coffee, she squeezed my arm.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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537 of 616  Tue 26th Mar 2019 8:13am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

There was a race meeting on a cold March day. By the end of the third race I was a few bob in front. The next race was a long odds on fav, you couldn't oppose and you couldn't really back, but a long outsider I fancied might just get in the frame, so I backed it e.w to win me a tenner. I stayed by the bookie - if my horse got in the frame I would collect my money and go back to the coach in the warm and read a book. The race 'off' - the fav came out the mist, the length of a football field in front and my horse followed him. I moved to the bookie to collect. Miserable coot said, "You have to wait". Then the tannoy announced an objection and the crowd hooted and laughed. How could anyone object, it had won so easy? But the tannoy came on again - not a jockey that objected but the clerk of the scales. The jockey of the fav had failed to weigh in. The fav had been disqualified, my horse given first place, now the bookie had to pay me about eighty pounds more than if he had paid me two minutes earlier, when I asked. Happy days!
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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538 of 616  Wed 27th Mar 2019 11:38am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

There was a two-day race meeting in Brighton. Red House coaches didn't go that far, so I caught the train. Walked into a small seafront hotel, asked if they had a single room for two nights. Receptionist said, "Yes, but it's on the top floor, we don't have a lift and there's no porter today". I said, "That's ok, I'll take it". Receptionist turned to a small cute blonde girl. "Is the room ready, Daisy? "Yes", she said. Just then the manger popped his head out from his office, and asked the blonde - Miss White - if a certain room was also ready. I smiled. "Daisy White?" She glowered at me, pointed a finger. "Don't you dare call me 'Chalky'". I chuckled, the receptionist smiled also, "Go on, tell him about your sisters". The blonde stuck her tongue out. Receptionist said "Her sisters are Rose and Iris". I laughed. "Go on, tell me her mother's name". "Why, of course, Lily White". We all laughed, including the blonde.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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539 of 616  Tue 9th Apr 2019 5:46pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

My platoon was sent to do a road block about two miles out of town on a crossroads. It was a beautiful warm night, a little breeze blowing in from the sea. We manned positions covering the four roads. All around us from the ditches frogs were croaking incessantly. Middle East frogs have an unusually loud rasping croak and however far away from you they are, the sound seems to be coming from somewhere near your feet. The night music of the Middle East - this croak is only made by the male bullfrog and he does it by blowing out his dewlap, and letting it go with a burp. This is his mating call - when the female hears it she hops smartly by his side. But he does not greet her, he keeps singing his song to the heavens, loving his own voice. She waits - he's forgotten why he started croaking in the first place, so she loses patience and kicks him with her leg, and only then does he stop his croaking, and turns to embrace her.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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540 of 616  Fri 12th Apr 2019 6:09pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2972

1942 and I was fifteen years old, and things weren't really going well for the allies, and Coventry had taking some awful punishment. I had lost relatives and friends in the bombing, I wanted to join up and help in the war, so I joined the Air Training Corps to get basic training. I was fitted out with simple uniform and forage cap, and I was proud as punch. After a few months I was selected to take air experience lessons at Ansty Airfield. I had watched these men training to become aircrew from as little as a mile away when I was evacuated, and marvelled at their skill. I arrived at the airfield ten minutes before time, shown to a nissen hut and introduced to the flying instructor who was to take me up. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "Yes please". "Right then, I'll put you in the picture", he said. "Now the plane is a Tiger Moth, it is totally efficient and a very aerobatic little biplane, but we won't be doing much of that today. It's powered by a gypsy engine, you can throw the plane all over the sky and it won't fail, you can spin, loop-the-loop, the engine might cut-out, but that's because the carburettor's upside down, but it will start again with no trouble, so any questions?" "No, Sir." "OK, you will sit on your parachute, and there is a little rubber tube so we can speak, and keep your goggles down or you will suffer watery eyes." I climbed in the cockpit, the engine was running and I felt the slipstream. I was apprehensive, excited, I kept asking myself how many young men were lucky enough to be allowed to go whizzing through the sky, above as beautiful a county as Warwickshire. I never had the education to become aircrew, but did meet the slipstream at full force when I did pass as an airborne soldier.
Our Kaga

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