Robinson's Ramblings #12

               

Robinson's Ramblings #11

   THUNDER                                                                                                                                      

Thunder. Always alert.

This took place in 1971.

Thunder, the dog, (that's he, in all his glory, above) was central to many interesting days (or, I should say - nights) in my six months as a dog handler. I was 17 when I started.  It was what I did to escape from doing camps. (After we finished doing the army or the air-force or the navy, they were those annual, three-week visits back to the Defence Force. They lasted five or ten years.)

I started in Ladysmith (in Natal, South Africa) and after five months, I went on to do the three-week long dog handling course at Pretoria. After that, I was based in Lenz, outside Lenasia, in the Transvaal.

I partnered with Brian Dawson in my time as a dog-handler. We took turns to stand guard. 

What were we guarding? About thirty ammo stores, as large as a couple of tennis courts. They were spread out in open fields, with cropped grass between them. There were mounds of earth around as high as the walls to protect the surrounding ammo stores in case there was an explosion. It was (if I remember) a 8 kilometre/5 mile perimeter fence.

Huge.

36 people, 18 dogs, 15 dogs on guard at one time.

Brian Dawson, Thunder and me

Brian and I were on a rotation system. One was on duty from six pm until midnight, and the other was on from then until six am. Remember, it was below freezing in winter and we were doomed to be outside half the night. 

It went like this in winter: At about half-past-four, one of us got dressed in as many clothes as we can get our hands on. That's what it seemed like. 

First, we donned some thermal underwear. Next, we got into a full tracksuite or two. Then, we put on one or two jerseys. On top of those, we wore, not one, but two overalls (brown again). To finish, we put on a full length over-coat. I remember we took a blanket to keep warm. (Uumm, not to sleep?)

Next, to what we wore to keep our feet warm. We usually wore two pairs of thick rugby socks under a pair of ankle-high leather boots. Next, our heads. We wore two, thick balaclavas (brown, too, you've guessed). On top (literally), we wore a regulation hat (brown...).

If it was raining, we had a square waterproof (brown) with a hole in it for the head to stick out, which was also covered. Luckily, it was a summer rainfall region. But, there was a lot of lightning and thunder which one must take shelter from. The theory, was to be safe, there must be an object which could conduct electricity higher than you so that the highest point in a radius of 15 degrees protects the person underneath. Or dogs. We never got to test that theory.

After getting dressed, we entered the secure area where our dogs were. We were driven by a vehicle. They each had their own kennels (which we had to clean, daily). We first had to get all the piles of crap out, then, we had to hose them as well. During the cleaning of the kennels, some of the dogs would have to kept well apart, lest they fought. Others, they wouldn't hurt a fly.

Not Brian. Keeping well clear of those teeth.

Thunder had the most sensitive ears on a dog. He heard the gate being opened, about 1.6 km/1 mile away, and he was immediately awake and stood there, menacingly and aggressively barking. Suddenly, all the dogs were alert and baying with all their might. This was for the officer on duty to drive around inspecting us.

Just as well, because after a hard day fooling around, I fell asleep as always. 

About nine pm, often, the Officer on Duty came to inspect us. The Officer in charge, routinely, was on his own. I knew the young Sergeant Major, whose turn it was to do duty, tended to drink.

This evening, I sensed he had started to drink. The gate lock rattled, and it alerted Thunder. Off he went barking.  

I stood with my back to that huge ditch, which was about a man deep and equally wide. I assume to deter invaders. After the Officer worked his way through the now alert guarders, I could see the headlights approaching fast and moving from left to right. Then, the small jeep was nearly on top of me. 

Literally. I evaded it by leaping in the ditch with Thunder. I heard the driver (obviously he'd been drinking heavily) screeching in a cloud of dust and stones to a halt. Thunder continued making a racket. Climbing back out of the ditch and helping Thunder to get out.

The sergeant major backed up to where I and my dog had scrambled out, and, with really pissed look on his face, I could see that he was (partly) concerned he might have collided with me and my dog. Only partly. 

The Officer had been drinking for more than three hours.

                                                                                                                                                                

Me with Thunder.

Another time, in November, we were gathered (illegally) in some ammo depot. Our dogs were individually secured well apart from each other. There were about ten of us there chilling out.

We overheard some noise from the kennels like a sound of some dog fiddling with the roof. One of the guys said he had heard that the dogs had found a way to get out of the kennels.

In the daytime, there were two black dogs there, all the rest were a mixture of browns (there's that word again...) and tans. They all were reasonably placid in comparison with two black dogs: Thunder, and Killer (I don't remember his actual name, but that's rough enough for this story).

That early evening, Killer had escaped through a gap he had forced between the sides of the kennel and the roof. Killer was headed directly in our direction. Now this was trouble. We could see Killer coming from a distance away - about five minutes when he was on top of us, no doubt savaging me. My Thunder could fend for himself. I ran to my dog, the likely target which Killer would attack, and frantically untied him. 

Killer had a massive screw loose and I could see he was about 200 mts/220 yds away, heading for his arch enemy, Thunder. Thunder saw Killer running fast in his direction. I spotted a roof which had access to but not for Killer. Frantic, I helped Thunder (which was difficult as he was full-on barking aggressively). We just made it to the roof with Killer barking viscously below. 

I shouted to a guy on a nearby roof, to get Killer's handlers to come and sort out their dog. Thunder pulled the leash tight and Killer was down below barking aggressively until his handlers came and returned him to another secure kennel.

That was 1971. Thunder, Killer and all the other dogs have gone to meet their maker a long time ago.

More on life in the army, soon.

                                                                                                                                                                

My first book Rough Diamonds is set in the sixties, and this killer read takes you to a mining village called Scallyclare in South Africa. There is deceit, evil, malice, negligence, blackmail, rape, murder. It starts when the three children's Grandfather gives them three uncut diamonds. Along with those, he gives them each a bracelet with their names engraved on. The diamonds and the bracelets become their blessings and their terrifying curses...

This killer read is not for the gutless!

I'm starting work on my follow-up book, which will have the word 'Diamonds' in the title. You can follow progress on Pinterest, where I'll post some mood or theme boards and some excerpts as and when they become ready. You can see the progress on: https://uk.pinterest.com/ianrobinson9655/my-next-novel/

                                                                                                                                                                

“Big sky.” Athena, my wife, would say sometimes looking up at the vastness above.

“Wow, where did you get that from?” I’d asked the first time she said it.

“I felt it the first time I came to Africa. There’s just so much space and when you look out at the landscape it just seems to go on and on and on to the horizon and up into an endless sky.”

Big sky. What a profound thing to say. 

This captures the feelings which we set out to achieve in Horizon's Gourmet Picnics.

It's a true story about Athena's and my business just outside Rosetta in the Midlands of KZN, South Africa. Follows the finding of the property (it wasn't what we had in mind...), setting up the concept for the Gourmet Picnic business, naming the place 'Horizons' (which says 'as far as you can see' and sends a message 'to stretch our guests' expectations'). Selling the business.

                                                                                                                                                                

I'd like some people to review my books Rough Diamonds and SOME PICNIC! (See below). I'll give you free books to review.

I hope you’ll take time to check them out at Smashwords, where you can sample the first 15% of the books for free.

Here’s the direct link to my book page, where you can sample or purchase the book: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/704634 
and https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/706474

Here’s the link to my author profile: 
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ianrob222

Won’t you also take a moment to spread the word about my books to everyone you know?

Thank you so much for your support!

There's a bonus after the story. You can read the first chapters of my other book after the end of the book.

                                                                                                                                                                

Robinson's Ramblings #10

   Geoff and Maureen                                                                                                                                       

My Dad and Mum lived in the old days. Let me explain. I wonder what my parents would have made of Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and robots? The fact that processor speed doubles each year? They wouldn't surely have foreseen the frightening the pace of development and the proliferation of technology?

This week, in Robinson's Ramblings #10, I devote to my Mum and Dad. Were they to be here now, they would have been astounded.

The pics were taken in 1964.

My father looks cool at this Café in Madrid.

                                                                                                                                                                           

Happy in Greece.

                                                                                                                                                                           

It was 1956 and we were on the road from Pretoria to Durnacol (in South Africa), roughly about 320km/200 miles. The name Durnacol (where our new home was to be), is made up from Durban Navigation Collieries. The coal was shipped to Durban (about the same distance) in the early '50's as fuel for the liners and ships.

It was February and I was three. Plus six months. The length of my life was important back then at my youth, because time was measured in months, not years.

We were driving in an Austin A40 which my parents were so proud of. Of course, we also were, and it was magical to be able to drive in our own shiny, brand-new car. 

It used to be shiny the day before, but, we were travelling on an excuse of a road. We were now driving in a torrential downpour on a slippery, muddy, dirt route. We had many kilometres to go before we reached our new home.

Suddenly, the car slewed first this way, then that. Geoff was nearly losing control. He was an excellent driver but I could see that the road was challenging him. 

Finally, we arrived at our destination in the dark. The conditions were so atrocious that it took nearly a day to get there.

“Come on, leave the rest of the cases. I’ll get them when it’s stopped pouring,” Geoff said.

He put the key in the door of our new home and turned it. But, there was another problem: The lights had tripped. Try as he might, the lights weren’t coming on.

Geoff fetched some food from the Austin in the dark and we had a cold meal. Later, the rain had let up enough, Geoff could get back to the car to get the rest of the luggage.

Very early the next morning, Geoff woke first. He looked around and couldn’t believe it: The walls were brown. The colour was a shitty brown. He got out of bed and went to the passage. Those wall were brown, too.

He woke up Maureen. “Look at these walls... ”

She was startled. “Oh shit!”

“My thoughts exactly. We’ll need to paint them a different colour."

My parents were quite disgusted with the colour that they woke us up and showed us. We agreed.

We lived there as a family for the next twenty years.

                                                                                                                                                                           

My parents in Trafalgar Square. The men wore suits and the ladies wore skirts those days. The two photographers on the left were perhaps thinking who they were going to do next. Maybe they had my parents in mind. Note the presence of pidgeons. They're gone now.

                                                                                                                                                                         

My first book Rough Diamonds is set in the sixties, and this killer read takes you to a mining village called Scallyclare in South Africa. There is deceit, evil, malice, negligence, blackmail, rape, murder. It starts when the three children's Grandfather gives them three uncut diamonds. Along with those, he gives them each a bracelet with their names engraved on. The diamonds and the bracelets become their blessings and their terrifying curses...

This killer read is not for the gutless!

I'm starting work on my follow-up book, which will have the word 'Diamonds' in the title. You can follow progress on Pinterest, where I'll post some mood or theme boards and some excerpts as and when they become ready. You can see the progress on: https://uk.pinterest.com/ianrobinson9655/my-next-novel/

                                                                                                                                                                           

“Big sky.” Athena, my wife, would say sometimes looking up at the vastness above.

“Wow, where did you get that from?” I’d asked the first time she said it.

“I felt it the first time I came to Africa. There’s just so much space and when you look out at the landscape it just seems to go on and on and on to the horizon and up into an endless sky.”

Big sky. What a profound thing to say. 

This captures the feelings which we set out to achieve in Horizon's Gourmet Picnics.

It's a true story about Athena's and my business just outside Rosetta in the Midlands of KZN, South Africa. Follows the finding of the property (it wasn't what we had in mind...), setting up the concept for the Gourmet Picnic business, naming the place 'Horizons' (which says 'as far as you can see' and sends a message 'to stretch our guests' expectations'). Selling the business.

                                                                                                                                                                           

I'd like some people to review my books Rough Diamonds and SOME PICNIC! (See below). I'll give you free books to review.

I hope you’ll take time to check them out at Smashwords, where you can sample the first 15% of the books for free.

Here’s the direct link to my book page, where you can sample or purchase the book: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/704634 
and https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/706474

Here’s the link to my author profile: 
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ianrob222

Won’t you also take a moment to spread the word about my books to everyone you know?

Thank you so much for your support!

There's a bonus after the story. You can read the first chapters of my other book after the end of the book.