20th Century
Murder on Meon Hill
Meon Hill lies in the valley of the River Avon, on the border of Oxfordshire and Warwickshire. It is an outlier of the Cotswolds and, although it reaches only a modest 194m of elevation, it [more…]
Literature
Arts
“Yippee Ki Yay, Ya Wee Fanny” – A Polis Sco’lan Christmas Tale
Ah pure cannae be f**ked wi’ Chrishmas. Brengs back a loadae sh*te memries fae when ah wis a wean. Wha hod f**kin’ hee haw cuz ma da spent aw tha dole money oan drenk an [more…]
Biography
The Right Way To Put Out A Fire (Finally)
In March 2013 I was appointed to RFA Fort Austin. Within NATO she is classified as an AFSH, that’s to say a combat stores ship with the necessary facilities on board to embark a helicopter. [more…]
Biography
Still Not The Right Way To Put Out A Fire
You may remember some months back I related a story of my first fire exercise sailing under the Red Duster. I was somewhat unimpressed having come from a different seafaring outfit where these things were [more…]
Fiction
The Unseen Path – Part Ninety One
What they were asking… but hadn’t he already crossed the line? That’s why they’d revealed themselves to him, reckoned he was already there. George was, he knew, would sign up in a flash, possibly some [more…]
Arts
Rainy Island: A Civic Nationalist Tale
In a change of approach to how I usually deliver my far-right propaganda I will now recount the tale of a remarkable nation whose influence on the world far exceeds it’s size, population and resources. [more…]
Fiction
The Unseen Path – Part Ninety
WEDNESDAY, THIRD MORNING AFTER EASTER He’d left the smuggling party behind on the way down to the valley, racing despite his heavy load, dawn was just arriving, a grey cloudy day, typical West Country [more…]
Fiction
The Unseen Path – Part Eighty Nine
The Turk was almost ecstatic, after all the set-backs, the doubts, only nine-eleven put this in the shade, and this was somehow more personal, more intimate, a stab at the heart of a major western [more…]
Fiction
The Unseen Path – Part Eighty Eight
The emergency sub-committee were all back in the main room: the ceasefire at Broadcasting House was over two hours old now and disparate reports were starting to be assimilated, an incomplete but increasingly coherent picture [more…]