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Rudolph Hucker

ROEDER LIMPING HOME!

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Only one port engine splutters on, most of the crew are dead and the captain''s right leg convulses with shrapnel as he fights to keep the ''Lady Delia'' airbourne.

Not far below clawing branches, fixtures of the land known as Lei Guan, threaten to rip into bomb doors, frozen open since loosing their small payload last January.

Leaving the beach line and skimming like a pebble across the inhospitable sea Wing Commander Glenn Roeder searches the horizon for the  thin coastline of Fizi Pop. He has to get this stricken bird home.

The radio crackles into life. Group Captain Niall Donkster is asking for his height and position. Roeder reflects on the folly of the mission before coughing his update. Donkster, it seems, is keeping everything crossed and Roeder thought he could hear his black labrador with the politically incorrect name pining in the background.

Roeder feels himself slipping in and out of consciousness. His navigator ''Geordie'' Clark is talking to him, trying to keep him awake and focussed. He has to make it, he cannot find himself ditched again. How are his men? Those fresh faced boys hardly out of short pants and little Jamie in the front gun port, are they still alive? And what about Hucks, sent out to the left wing to put out the flames? He seems to be a gonner too!

How he wished he had a rear gunner of the quality of Dino Ashton for those fatal last few sorties. That Spanish aircrew man he had taken on board hadn''t lasted two minutes against those Ricoh Fighters and that had cost him dear.

Bomber Croft had shot his load before reaching the target too and he had expected so much of that chap but, so often he failed to deliver and was last seen clinging on over the open doors as the world passed him by.

Not much fuel left, Roeder tapped the guage glass in frustration and guessed the tanks had taken a hit. It wasn''t supposed to be like this. But he should make it, he had done enough surely, he couldn''t fail.....could he? He had to gain height, it was time to jettison the dead men and he gave Geordie the order......................

To be continued.

 

 

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[quote user="RUDOLPH HUCKER"]

Only one port engine splutters on, most of the crew are dead and the captain''s right leg convulses with shrapnel as he fights to keep the ''Lady Delia'' airbourne.

Not far below clawing branches, fixtures of the land known as Lei Guan, threaten to rip into bomb doors, frozen open since loosing their small payload last January.

Leaving the beach line and skimming like a pebble across the inhospitable sea Wing Commander Glenn Roeder searches the horizon for the  thin coastline of Fizi Pop. He has to get this stricken bird home.

The radio crackles into life. Group Captain Niall Donkster is asking for his height and position. Roeder reflects on the folly of the mission before coughing his update. Donkster, it seems, is keeping everything crossed and Roeder thought he could hear his black labrador with the politically incorrect name pining in the background.

Roeder feels himself slipping in and out of consciousness. His navigator ''Geordie'' Clark is talking to him, trying to keep him awake and focussed. He has to make it, he cannot find himself ditched again. How are his men? Those fresh faced boys hardly out of short pants and little Jamie in the front gun port, are they still alive? And what about Hucks, sent out to the left wing to put out the flames? He seems to be a gonner too!

How he wished he had a rear gunner of the quality of Dino Ashton for those fatal last few sorties. That Spanish aircrew man he had taken on board hadn''t lasted two minutes against those Ricoh Fighters and that had cost him dear.

Bomber Croft had shot his load before reaching the target too and he had expected so much of that chap but, so often he failed to deliver and was last seen clinging on over the open doors as the world passed him by.

Not much fuel left, Roeder tapped the guage glass in frustration and guessed the tanks had taken a hit. It wasn''t supposed to be like this. But he should make it, he had done enough surely, he couldn''t fail.....could he? He had to gain height, it was time to jettison the dead men and he gave Geordie the order......................

To be continued.

 

 

[/quote]

That''s brilliant, Hucks, old boy. Give yourself 10 housepoints and go to the top of the class. I particularly liked the bit about Croft shooting his load; I suddenly wondered if I was reading Penthouse rather than the Pink ''Un, lol.

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Poor Glenn and his crew. There he is wandering in and out of the clouds, even if he could lay his hands on more fuel the prices have gone up to outrageous levels, the skies are littered with nothing but MessoSh**ts, the parachute supports have gone. Even if he is able to land the craft safely will he ever be able to get it in the air again ( no dirty comments here Rudolph ). Perhaps the best thing is to pray that divine intervention will allow the craft to glide into the skies over Iraq, and finally locate those weapons of mass destruction. If they do exist then we should be able to acquire one or two for a song to help us send the remaining opposition into oblivion. Roger and out! (  No offense Mr. Munby ).     

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Shame on you Yankee Canary. I thought you could have at least given us a view of events from your side of the pond." Col Roeder stared blankly ahead, one arn folded the, other holding his chin as he surveyed the scene before him. He had lost many men, more had it not have been for those plucky GI''s coming to the rescue at Dunkirk, these US Hellcats beating back the Huns over Dover and Mel Gibson and his squadron of Abraham tanks driving the club back up the table at El Alemein. He''d lost both Le Judge and Dury, the dodgy cheque and many others who had gone west... well, gone back north to be precise. As he stared into the distance and reflected what lay ahead he heard a distant whine...a whine growing louder and louder. Was it a damaged plane limping home it''s engines straining to make it back to the banks of the Yare ? No, a closer look revealed it was a brigade of the RAB''s. the Royle Armchair Brigade, better know as the pink''uns.  Well at least, Col Roeder reflected, they are in front of him, because the gutless, whingers have never been behind me. "

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[quote user="Ralph Wright"]Shame on you Yankee Canary. I thought you could have at least given us a view of events from your side of the pond.[/quote]At least Yankee joined in near the start of the thread, not when it was almost over.

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''Geordie'' Clark made to leave; there could be no more passengers on this trip, weight had to be lost and Crofty was first on his list. Suddenly a giant figure loomed at him in the shape of Senior Aircrewman Dublin.

''Thank God you''re still on board Dubs, thought you''d left us, speak to me in the bomb bay, you''ll never dit in this cockpit.''

Dublin smiled a reassuring smile ''We''re not home yet, Geordie, I know it, there''s still more to do and I for one mean to see it through.''

''''Has anyone seen Fozzy?'' enquired Geordie. He was in the mid-gun turrett last I knew but Hucks has gone and I don''t think he wanted to stay around after that.''

''Hucks threw himself off the wing after putting the fire out,  Geordie, he was just getting so much flak he couldn''t hang around.''

The plane suddenly lurched, Geordie rushed into the cockit to find Roeder had slipped into unconsciousness. ''Can you fly, Dubs?'' he called back.

Hauling Glenn out of the pilot seat with one hand and gripping the throbing joystick with the other Dubs slipped into position.

''Don''t worry boys'' he said, ''I''m going to see you home.''

 

To be continued.

 

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[quote user="Ralph Wright"]Shame on you Yankee Canary. I thought you could have at least given us a view of events from your side of the pond.[/quote]"Thank god you chaps are here," said Captain Roeder as he surveyed the arriving American liberation force.  "Without you, we''d all be bally well speaking German.""No sweat, bud," said Sgt. Kohlburger.  "We''ll kick ass first and take names later."And Captain Roeder watched with horror as the Yankee army proudly erected an oil derrick in the centre circle of Carrow Road.

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[quote user="Robert N. LiM"][quote user="Ralph Wright"]Shame on you Yankee Canary. I thought you could have at least given us a view of events from your side of the pond.[/quote]At least Yankee joined in near the start of the thread, not when it was almost over.[/quote]This entire thread is brilliant, and this post is extremely funny.

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Roeder was feverish as he regained his senses and found himself cradled in ''Geordie'' Clark''s arms. ''Are we dead?'' He asked.

''Wayay, man!'' Said Clark, gently mopping his captains brow with a black and white bar scarf. ''You''re still with us Captain.''

''Who''s keeping this thing up, Geordie?'' ''I didn''t think there was anyone else left to take the helm.''

''It''s Dub''s, Sir! He''s was on board all the time and he says he''s been watchin'' you and knows what to do.''

Airman Dublin game them both the thumbs up before gripping the pulsating joystick between his knees, picking up his sax and playing a tune about an inconspicuous London Street linking Oxford Street to Marylebone Road while all the while, just feet below the cold cruel black sea slid menacingly by. They should have been home by now, clearly they were off course, they had lost their way, time and fuel was running out.

''Tell me Geordie'' said Roeder ''what''s the f**king tune.''

''God Sir,'' he said, you must be worse than I thought......''it was the last Club to sack you, don''t you remember?''

To be continued.

 

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Come on admit it, who read this with a Terry Thomas accent and imaging you had a long wirly tache, well I did.

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The plane is now lurching side to side with greater movement than the Lufthansa jet on its way to Hamburg last week. That means one of the wings is occasionally dipping and taking a sip of good old salt water, before the plane tips in the exact opposite direction to make sure the other wing receives equal treatment so as not to offend aviation equipment employment rules. In the midst of all this the following conversation takes place:

Delia: "Glenn, Glenn! This is Delia on the short wave at Carrow Road. Can you hear me?"

Glenn: "Hear you.....I think I can see you. You''re surrounded by this extremely bright white light."

Delia: "I know this is bad timing Glenn but there''s something I need to share with you."

Glenn: "WHAT....NOW!!!!" as his hands finally catch the joystick on his third revolution around the cockpit.

Delia: "You''ve certainly proven you know how to handle things when they are rock bottom Glenn. It augurs well for your current predicament."

Glenn: "Delia, do you have any gas?"

Delia: "No, I have no problems in that area. Now listen Glenn. I''ve decided to hire a Director Of Football Operations. Her name is Amelia Earhart. She''s been out of touch for a while but she''s been around the horn a few times. Apparently, she''s recently been behind closed doors with Japanese recruits who are already in uniform. We can use all the help we can get. I want you improve your altitude and look for a place to re-fuel and then head directly to Howland Island in the middle of the Pacific and see what you can pick up."

Glenn: "Delia, I''m not sure you have a real grasp on our situation here. We''re not in a condition to go up any higher ....it''s strictly a survival mode we''re dealing with presently."

Delia: "Yes, yes Glenn. You''re new on the scene but I''ve been facing that situation for some years now. I promised you excitement when you joined our little family club Glenn. Delia doesn''t tell porkies." 

Glenn: "Delia, I''ve always been a loyal company man and I will attempt to do as you ask but, if we should encounter further problems en route to our target destination, do you have a back-up plan I can share with my crew?" 

Delia: "Yes. I''ve had a word with my friend George Bush. I told him if his terrorist spotters observe a yellow plane doing twirlies from New York to Chicago to shoot the bloody thing out of the sky. I think the insurance is worth more than what you have on board. Another year of profits on the horizon. Bye bye for now."

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''We clearly lacked intelligence, Geordie,'' murmured Roeder. ''Not like Johnny Foreigner, he is clearly adaptable and was able to take up a fresh position.''

''I don''t think our guys were big enough on the night, Sir, size, that was our problem. All those bombs coming in at us, we couldn''t cope, we couldn''t handle it.''

''Academic now, Geordie, we''ve got to go with what we''ve got, and we have got big Dion, I have to say I couldn''t handle that stick but he seems so comfortable with it; it seems size counts for a lot these days.''

They froze, the engine noise had changed: it seemed to stall but then regained it''s throbbing rhythum. All three relaxed......suddenly there was movement.....

''Hux!'' Cried the stricken Roeder. ''I thought you''d bought it out on that wing, my God man, but it''s good to see you!''

''It was fifty-fifty Sir, I didn''t think I''d make it but I thought I saw an Angel out there with me, calling, calling and bringing me back.''

A sudden squall hit them and the aircraft lurched. Senior Aircrewman Dublin struggled and cursed before righting the stricken bomber. ''Excuse my French, Sir, but I thought my joystick was going to pop out and the Lady Delia was about to get wet.''

''Good man, Dublin,'' said Roeder ''but I doubt this old kite will go down to an unexpected blow......can you see the coast yet?

''I can, Sir, but it doesn''t look familiar, there''s a prom but no chav''s, we must be somewhere south of Lowestoft.''

''Help me up, Hux and Geordie, I need to see things from the bench....we might be alone but I still want to tinker with our formation.''

To be continued.

 

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Yes Please. Funneist line so far:

 

[quote user="RUDOLPH HUCKER"]

''weight had to be lost and Crofty was first on his list.'' [/quote]

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[quote user="RUDOLPH HUCKER"]

Before I continue......does anyone want to read more?

No will do, there is no need to be more blatant.

[/quote]

I would like more.  When do the Yanks arrive?

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There was noise, massive noise, noise to fill the head and blot out everything else but the blinding flashing lights and then darkness, total darkness and cold, icy cold and Roeder knew he was close to death. Roeder''s life flashed before him as sour salty water poured into his lungs; his managerial career flashed past particularly quickly..........and the world faded away. Roeder felt himself lifted, he had heard about this, he was dead and his soul was being carried upwards. He could hear Saint Peter and realised the angel was from Tyneside and was calling him Sir, Guv and Boss. Roeder felt his chest heave and suddenly he was coughing and gagging. Clean cold air suddenly penetrated his chest cavity, he felt himself thrashing then being held down. He calmed then and realised he was laying on his back and looking up into the eyes of ''Geordie'' Clarke.

''Wayay man, but I thought we''d lost you, Sir. One minute you were up and the next sinking like you couldn''t stop.''

Roeder felt around him and realised he was in a rubber dinghy. He lifted his head which was throbbing like a post Man City hangover and looked across to his right where he saw burning oil on the water and what was left of ''The Lady Delia.'' Her rear end was perched above her main carriage and shone in the moonlight.

''We took a beating, Sir,'' said Geordie ''It was von Pulis and his Big Fokkers, we planned for them but just didn''t see what was coming until it was too late.''

''I was worried about those Big Fokkers, Geordie, we were ill equipped to deal with them, God my leg, where''s Dion?''

''Gone Sir, he gave it all he had but went down with ''The Lady Delia'' I''m afraid, it''s what he would have wanted.''

''Hucks?'' Asked Roeder.

''I''m here, Sir'' came the reply ''but I''ve had enough of being taken down, if we get out of this I''m jacking it in.''

''Who''s that? Said Roeder, as if he had seen a ghost.''

''That''s little Jamie, that is, Sir'' said Geordie, ''he was having a quiet sortie, that''s all, although he did put a few rounds over von Pulis from a few feet off at the end.''

''So where are we?'' Asked Roeder. ''We seem to be drifting aimlessly and I can''t find a paddle. Is there anyone else we can get in?''

''Oh! there''s plenty of room, Sir, but I can''t see us gettin'' anyone else on board. We''ll have to sit tight in this dinghy and hope we don''t come across any sharp blades.''

To be continued (if you like).

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[quote user="RUDOLPH HUCKER"]

Before I continue......does anyone want to read more?

No will do, there is no need to be more blatant.

[/quote]

Now Rude old you haven''t told us about the bandits on your tail .[;)] arrdee.

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The next edition is being delayed due to work commitments so sorry to those in suspense. Yes, I know it''s bloody cruel but I have to earn a living you know, what with Alastair bloody Darling and his stealth taxes rant, grumble, moan, rant.................................

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if roeder is limping home .. maybe he should get a walking stick ?

or someone who should be so kind in giving him a lift ..

do you not agree ?

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The sea had become a flat calm in the depth of the long night; although there was a sense of drifting - though whether to the obscure shores of Lee Guan or the happy homeland of Fizi Pop none of the inert occupants of the stricken life raft could tell.

Silence had descended with the cloying blackness and the senses of the survivors from ''The Lady Delia'' were numbed and neutered. She had cheated fortune so many times but it seemed she couldn''t cheat forever and had finally paid the price along with her crew.

Wing Commander Roeder looked up into the firmament, all those stars, he thought, all out of reach; and the shooting stars too: momentarily brilliant and inspiring but so short lived and quick to burn out. He saw the dog star and remembered his trusty black labrador with the politically incorrect name waiting for him at Camp Colney and hoped Niall Donkster wouldn''t forget to feed him again.

''Listen!'' Hissed little Jamie. ''Can you hear that?'' And all searched the velvety silence, closing their eyes to scan the soundless void.

''What is it, Jamie? Asked Roeder.

''I can hear a lapping sound, Wing.'' Said Jamie, sitting up a little.

''What, you mean someone asking for a game in a whining Scottish accent?'' Asked ''Geordie'' Clark.

''No, no, there it is again, over here, I can hear water slapping on something, must be something closeby.''

Then, with a gentle bump a piece of floating wing from ''The Lady Delia''s'' tail end nudged gently into them and there was a sudden whistle of air.

''Shit!'' Said Roeder. ''We were dozing off and something bally sharp has pricked the tub!'' ''Jamie, change position and seal up that side will you?''

But there was something else, a head came floating away from the debris and bobbed towards them. There was no neck and Roeder feared lifting the decapitated head of a crew member into the life raft until he saw with relief it was Junior Airman Matty Pattison and he was alive. Roeder had forgotten the South African was on board, a common problem he mused, and he must have been thrown clear as they went down and clung to that length of wing which had holed them.

Willing hands hauled Pattison on board. He was beginning to suffer the effects of hypothermia. ''Don''t worry, Matty!'' Whispered Hucks. ''Mr. Roeder has pulled me off the wing a number of times.....you learn to live with it.''

But there was a new problem, the life raft was leaking air fast and had taken a second wound from the unpredictable blade. ''Get that wing out wide, Geordie, and Hucks, do something with the second hole will you?''

''My pleasure, Guv.'' Came the reply.

Pattison shivered. ''We need to get your blood pumping Matty'' said Roeder. You look like you''ve had a heavy session clinging onto that bar.''

Roeder scanned around for a solution and then recalled an old training ground routine; pulling out the main valve from the wall of the life raft he called Pattison over.

''I want you to take a deep breath and blow in this until I tell you to stop Matty.........''

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[quote user="RUDOLPH HUCKER"]

The sea had become a flat calm in the depth of the long night; although there was a sense of drifting - though whether to the obscure shores of Lee Guan or the happy homeland of Fizi Pop none of the inert occupants of the stricken life raft could tell.

Silence had descended with the cloying blackness and the senses of the survivors from ''The Lady Delia'' were numbed and neutered. She had cheated fortune so many times but it seemed she couldn''t cheat forever and had finally paid the price along with her crew.

Wing Commander Roeder looked up into the firmament, all those stars, he thought, all out of reach; and the shooting stars too: momentarily brilliant and inspiring but so short lived and quick to burn out. He saw the dog star and remembered his trusty black labrador with the politically incorrect name waiting for him at Camp Colney and hoped Niall Donkster wouldn''t forget to feed him again.

''Listen!'' Hissed little Jamie. ''Can you hear that?'' And all searched the velvety silence, closing their eyes to scan the soundless void.

''What is it, Jamie? Asked Roeder.

''I can hear a lapping sound, Wing.'' Said Jamie, sitting up a little.

''What, you mean someone asking for a game in a whining Scottish accent?'' Asked ''Geordie'' Clark.

''No, no, there it is again, over here, I can hear water slapping on something, must be something closeby.''

Then, with a gentle bump a piece of floating wing from ''The Lady Delia''s'' tail end nudged gently into them and there was a sudden whistle of air.

''Shit!'' Said Roeder. ''We were dozing off and something bally sharp has pricked the tub!'' ''Jamie, change position and seal up that side will you?''

But there was something else, a head came floating away from the debris and bobbed towards them. There was no neck and Roeder feared lifting the decapitated head of a crew member into the life raft until he saw with relief it was Junior Airman Matty Pattison and he was alive. Roeder had forgotten the South African was on board, a common problem he mused, and he must have been thrown clear as they went down and clung to that length of wing which had holed them.

Willing hands hauled Pattison on board. He was beginning to suffer the effects of hypothermia. ''Don''t worry, Matty!'' Whispered Hucks. ''Mr. Roeder has pulled me off the wing a number of times.....you learn to live with it.''

But there was a new problem, the life raft was leaking air fast and had taken a second wound from the unpredictable blade. ''Get that wing out wide, Geordie, and Hucks, do something with the second hole will you?''

''My pleasure, Guv.'' Came the reply.

Pattison shivered. ''We need to get your blood pumping Matty'' said Roeder. You look like you''ve had a heavy session clinging onto that bar.''

Roeder scanned around for a solution and then recalled an old training ground routine; pulling out the main valve from the wall of the life raft he called Pattison over.

''I want you to take a deep breath and blow in this until I tell you to stop Matty.........''

[/quote]priceless rude old......

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Pattison blew for all he was worth, and it made an arresting sight but still the life raft threatened to capsize because the fingers of dawn light stretching out from the eastern horizon brought with them a sudden squall, the sea state became choppy and the walls of the inflatable began to collapse. Waves began to break over and the floor of the raft became a pool.

''Blow Matty!'' Cried Roeder. ''If we can''t get this rubber up around our semi-inflation we''re doomed.''

Pattison wasn''t cold anymore, his lungs strained, his cheeks burned and his eyes bulged, clearly, thought Roeder, he is past his limit. Surely now, after all they had been through this was it.

''It''s still in our hands.'' Said Huckerby with a look of realisation on his face. ''Mr. Roeder, Sir, it''s still in our hands and I don''t want to end my time by going down with this crew.''

''Explain yourself, Hucks!'' Cried Roeder but even as he said it Huckerby has fastened his mouth over the oozing gash to free his hands which he used as buckets to begin bailing out the water. Seeing him Jamie followed suit and in the grey light of dawn, in a choppy sea, a canary yellow circular dinghy bobbed pathetically while five men frantically scooped out handfulls of briny water while three of their number latched onto two gashes and a valve with their aching lips.

Hour after hour they tossed, sucked and blew, and though it was exhausting it was enough to keep them afloat.

In the frantic activity none noticed the achored shipping warning device which was all at once alongside them. Clinging to one side so he was clear of the chilling sea was a man who suddenly cried out Roeder''s name through his cracked and salt crusted lips.

''Doc!'' Cried Roeder. ''My God, Doc! How many times have I told you not to wrap your arms around a buoy? I thought we had coached that out of you!''

Doherty was suddenly emotional, he fell into the water and swam to the life raft where Roeder instructed him to take over from Pattison.

''Matty needs to get to bail.'' Roeder explained. Then an idea came to him. ''Doc, he said, do you remember being a regular visitor to Ireland to play international football before you came to Norwich.'' And Doc remembered and as he blew into the valve he recalled those nights in Dublin when the heavily advertised, hyped up, watery tasting over-priced chilled cider with ice was flowing. ''You realise it''s St. Patricks days, er, week this week Doc, well, lets have a kay, a kei, a ceigh, a party!!!''

So, led by Roeder they all sang ''Molly Malone,'' ''Danny Boy'' and ''Basil Brush Has Only Got One Ball'' while Doc, with tears pouring down his cheeks blew into the valve for all he was worth and the two holes in the raft played like pipes and so he blew harder. Roeder knew Doc''s kite: ''Marlboro Micky'' must have ditched too, he had seen it emitting a lot of smoke in a suitable area but he couldn''t stop Doc in this form to ask about the rest of the crew so he let him play on.

They had entered the mouth of an estuary, mud banks rose on each side and narrowed. It was a strange place.

''Can I stop now, Sir, panted Doc?''

''Sorry Doc, er ''streets long and narrow'' we need you to keep going if we''re going to stay ''alive alive-o'' because we seem to be in some sh!t creek and I''m afraid we have no paddle.''

To be continued unless you''ve had enough folks?

 

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