My Brother's Keeper.
June 27, 2017
October 10, 2016
Angels And Demons.
October 5, 2016
I Will Listen.
October 4, 2016
September 17, 2016
August 13, 2016
The Ghost of Veterans House.
July 7, 2016
July 3, 2016
Son of a Witch.
June 18, 2016
They lie a bit.
June 7, 2016
My Grandad’s old school held an exhibition in remembrance week, focusing on all the old pupils who had fought in the armed conflicts of our country. I...
"REMEMBER LAST NIGHT." A short story.
November 11, 2014
May 10, 2016
My Grandparents were a bit useless…
Take my Grandad, died on his toilet smoking, newspaper in place.
Heart attack, huge. Nana found him slumped on the bowl, a strange smile on his face.
Bloody inconsiderate to go aged sixty four, all your grand children babies, never get the chance to know you.
A lot of you to know. Did you ever tell us about being a soldier in the first world war? Thought not, just something you wouldn’t do.
Apparently you left us some poems, back then, not a manly thing to do, so you hid them,
‘til you died, sat upon your loo.
‘Be fearless but don’t be an idiot,’ said the Sergeant to his men.
‘Be a lean, mean fighting machine, but use your brain now and then.
When the enemy attacks you, it will be deep inside that brain
Sometimes they shoot back with more than rounds, target you again and again.’
‘We can do that Sarge,’ said the Soldier and his mates,
‘Hoorah,’ said the Sarge, ‘do what I say, not the politicians, they’re hypocrites.
We fight for King and country only, over land and sea.
You’ll get badges and medals a plenty but they won’t tell you about the one for PTSD.’
‘What’s that Sarge? they asked, in a uniformed, unison, military, type way.
‘It’s when you get your own personal shell shock,’ he said, ‘blows your mind away.’
‘But do they look after you when it happens Sarge?’ they said, ‘all the top brass?’
‘They couldn’t give a damn men, look after you my arse.’
‘So what do we do, who do we see, how do we get out from under it?’
‘Talk to your mates, your family and friends, move it out bit by bit.’
‘With respect Sarge, a little respect Sarge, a bit of support wouldn’t go amiss.’
‘Sorry chaps forget the past, be mindful, fatal to reminisce.’
‘So live in the now, is that what you’re saying? not the past or the future.’
‘That’s it guys, you’ve got it alright, forget you were ever a shooter.’
‘So who looks after us if we fall, would that be the Politicians and Country?’
‘You would think so, of course, but they don’t give a shit, is putting it perfectly bluntly.’
Our Grandparents were a bit useless…..
My Grandad fought in and survived the insanity and hell of the first world war.
I talk to him often.
He left a note attached to this.
“They didn’t call it PTSD in my day, in case you were wondering.”