Memories of Mileage Past

By Barrie David

This is a new book, a compiliation of my past experiences, hope you enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barrie David
• Release date: Oct 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223756996

Barrie David

As a life long lover of books and writing, I am contentedly enjoying my retirement and live in the Vale of Glamorgan - South Wales with my wife Elly and our dog Enzo and cat Molly. I love passing on my life experiences to others.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

THE HAUNTED FOREST

The Haunted Forest

Prologue

Cardiff - South Wales

Autumn – 1956

We’re four ten-year-old boys, we call ourselves the Silver Eagle Gang.

We wear short trousers, woollen jumpers, sturdy shoes, knee length socks usually sagging around our ankles and Davy Crockett hats made from sewn together rabbit skins most butchers are happy to give us. The evening we trekked across immense playing fields toward the huge forest dominating the horizon our plan was to investigate rumours terrifying screams had been heard inside it in the dead of night. Entering its pitch-black interior, Terry, the only boy with a torch, shushed everyone to silence dramatically stating he’d heard a distant scream and with the rest of us gripping each other’s arms in stomach churning apprehension placed the torch under his chin, its bright beam hideously illuminating his bulging eyes when he gave a sudden blood curdling scream starting a panic-stricken dash, himself included, back to the playing fields. Not joining the others giving Terry a painless roughing up but convinced I’d heard a real scream I stared at the black mass of the forest thinking nothing could be more terrifying than to ever be alone inside it at night.

The Silver Eagles never went near the forest after dark...

Mid-summer

Sunrise - 5am...

Eight years later....

The instant the alarm clock noisily clangs I immediately reach out and silence it.

Ignoring the tempting warmth of the bed I push aside the bedclothes to pull on thick woollen socks, a track suit and trainers. Half an hour later I haul a brand-new military Bergen onto my shoulders containing eight plastic shopping bags filled with sand carefully weighed on the bathroom scales to exactly ten pounds each. Leaving the home I share with my widowed mother I walk to nearby playing fields that in its time was a massive racecourse but is now the domain of several football and rugby pitches. The far horizon remains dominated by the ‘haunted’ forest my three pals and I vacated in terror years earlier.

Glancing at a sky heavy with impending rain I begin jogging but after a hundred yards, my chest heaving and my breath rasping, I stop to tighten the shoulder straps of the Bergen to stop it bouncing around. Aware I’m grossly unfit, and one circuit around the fields is approximately a mile the prospect of jogging around it five non-stop times laden with the Bergen seems more like jogging to the moon, more so when it begins raining. Doggedly managing another hundred yards before I stop to lean forward where a bout of coughing and violent retching magically results in long deep breaths, being blessed with an exceptional gift for visual recal, on the screen of my mind’s eye I begin seeing pictures of Mr. Alfred Graham, my boyhood Sunday School Teacher, a veteran of Arnhem who gave me the money to buy the Bergen. 

There are no further stops when I jog closer to the moon.

*               *               *

In the crystal-clear pictures I see myself passing the Secondary Modern School I attended until I left at age fifteen. Gazing at the playground and classrooms I’m amazed at how small they now seem compared to when I was a pupil there. Moving through the familiar streets of my boyhood I arrive at the gates of the Sunday School and with much affection begin thinking about Mr. Graham, the tall broad-shouldered teacher who held his class of eleven-year-old boys in the palm of his hand as he taught us to respect others regardless of their colour or creed, then told us about his training and experiences as a Sergeant in the Parachute Regiment during the war.

When the twin entrance doors to the school suddenly open, who should emerge