The Road Not Taken

 The Road Not Taken
- (Cast your mind back to 1975?)

John Abbott

A simple long-held dream, what could it mean?

To be an ardent military man,

Surely, I could, if anybody can?

 

I was strong, fit and hopelessly optimistic,

Maybe I was just autistic or sadistic?

I could jump, run, leap, climb and fight.

And I sort of knew, I was born bright!

 

I spent my time doing only three or four things,

I met lots of girls, which gave me wings,

I read a lot of books, and met a few crooks,

I played a lot of football, kicking against brick walls,

And I studied hard and read lots of history,

Which offered up both victory & mystery.


I applied and quickly passed all the basic stuff,

And I knew it was tough.

However, maybe I was too clever to follow this Endeavour?

After all, I had wanted it forever!


I had to follow a final medical procedure,

And of course, I was a believer!

However, I was told I had a heart with issues,

Very soon, I was using tissues!


You see, I had a faint murmur, 

Which made my dream a burner,

Doing this is never going to be an earner.

 

Didn’t believe it, still don’t believe it, I’ll never believe it,

it didn’t fit the remit!

With this, I must admit, 

There has to be a God, albeit one with wit! 

 

I wasn’t laughing, I was crying, 

All my planning, my guarantee of staffing, and they weren’t buying!

This military boy at almost eighteen, took a mental beating,

Surely this was cheating?




I suddenly lost hope, didn’t want to mope, but it was outside the scope! 

I only had one plan, it was all that mattered,

As for dreams of military glory,

They were forever shattered! 

Copyright John Abbott

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part Two)

 Mojave Beginning ~ (Part Two)

By John Abbott

Reality kicked in as Charlotte spoke to me in her soft tones.

" Mr Hireson - ten, twenty minutes maybe, OK. Would you like a drink ? "

" Yes, sure. Why not ? " She turned and my eyes caressed her buttocks. I admired her curves and thought what a shame it was that I could not really get involved. Body and looks - eight. Brain and life - probably not as much as I might hope for? I thought that I knew quite a lot about the personnel that I traveled the highways of space with. You could say, I knew all the important information about them, but even my limited experience had taught me to treat that remark with caution. One of my God-given skills was immense patience, which, coupled with intense and careful research on the net, normally gave me most of the relevant information on my fellow travelers.

And as I knew - information is power.

……………

Charlotte passed me my drink with a questioning glance. " Mr Hireson ? "

 

" Yes Miss ... Charlotte, isn't it ? " I said gently as I grasped my frosted fruit juice. I sipped from the glass and looked straight ahead into Charlotte's eyes. Name tag or no name tag, I knew more about Charlotte Fuller than she could ever have realised.

" Yes, what can I do for you Charlotte? " I asked. 

…………… 

" Well Jim ... Julius Caesar can't see a thing - it's cold, whatever it is. Bloody space junk! "

“ Shelt ... I know that you think I'm an old woman, but tell'em to go to Amber anyway. Space junk or not. we don't want it hitting us unprepared do we ? “

" No question Jim, you are an old woman ! But I'll get our customers to take some care - OK !"

" Thanks Shelt ... Standard Condition Amber - OK. "

" You got it Jim. " I said glancing yet again at my watch. I opened the channel to our passengers and put on my official captain's voice.

" Ladies and Gentlemen, we may have a minor fluctuation in our steadiness. Please proceed to Condition Amber now. Please return to your seats immediately . "

My eyes checked the instructions on my Head Up Facial Display. Each section of the lander was able to operate independently at a push - only from orbit to the lunar surface of course. My eyes blinked the relevant responses to Condition Amber :

Activate Emergency Ground Lights. Yes. Activate Independent Operation Pilots. Yes. Activate Emergency Warnings. Yes.

Activate Emergency Sealing Units. Yes. Activate Emergency Stabilisers. Yes.

Activate Radio Beacons. Yes.

Activate Emergency Extinguishers. No. 

No need to have the extinguishers in or around the Moon, any fire would be snuffed out immediately by the near-vacuum of Space. I checked our height and stability. I slowed old Lutter just a tiny bit, that should give us the manoeuvrability for any minor adjustments as we come in to Alex.

" Ladies and Gentlemen, please remember we are on Condition Amber - please ensure that you stay in your seats. "

I checked on my display where the girls were, as expected, Susan was in Section C, Jen in B and Charlotte in A, no problem ... everybody aboard should be happy enough.

 

Except for the delays - no problems. I crossed my fingers and hoped that nobody at Alex had got the jitters. Christ knows, times were hard enough with the trouble in the Belt without any extra security nonsense.

……………

Charlotte smiled as she spoke " Mr Hireson, I don't suppose ..." she paused,

“I hope you don't think it too forward of me, but, would you fancy a drink sometime with me would you ? " Her smile grew wider.

I was mildly surprised ... rather Charlotte than Jenny I thought.

" Ermm ... I don't know. I've not got a lot of time. " My head was working overtime. I told myself, I'm only young and must take every opportunity that comes my way, but I had plenty of problems on my plate already.

 

" I'll give you a call after we land maybe, eh ? " her smile stayed upon her face, but not as broad, I was glad to see that I hadn't disappointed her entirely. 

Then something happened ... 

A massive blast was heard and the shock rattled through A section, my head and neck were immediately forced back into the padded seat. Charlotte was flung like a childs doll at speed up the central aisle as the front end of our section closest to section B was sent spinning over my head, the whole section was rotating end over end backwards. The rapid spinning rotation indicated our separation from the remainder of the OTL which was standard in emergency situations. In a second, darkness enveloped us only for the the emergency lights to crash into our consciousness, and for what seemed endless seconds - there was silence ... total silence. The spell was almost immediately, outrageously broken by the shockingly loud wailing siren. It cut through the hot air that hung inside our section of the lander, splashed itself into our faces and assaulted the eardrums of everyone aboard our section of the Lutter. I felt rivulets of sweat dribbling down my sides. The siren was screaming at us through the stifling air, one or two people who hadn’t heeded the earlier warnings were tumbling in a weightless panic - I'd briefly imagined an OTL full of screaming lunatics, but it wasn't like that at all. A few faint groans, a little whining, but generally pretty calm which was relatively surprising due to our present circumstances. I had no doubts that we were hurtling through space and I assumed that we would all soon be dashed into the desolate, dead lunar landscape.

 

No doubt if this is my death I see approaching, then a few officials on Earth would by now be thinking about my guilt. I feel sure that my death would be seen by them as God’s justice.

 

Almost immediately, our section of the Lutter kicked violently sideways ... you could hear the passengers gasping. One weightless woman (Anne Jackson I believe?), a yard to my right, although unconscious, was spinning wildly, globules of blood and tissue gyrated around a large gash on her her head, it reminded me of some strange psychedelic effect. Again our section kicked violently sideways, much stronger than the earlier one ... It was in opposition to the direction of our tumbling and noticeably slowed the end over end motion. The couple of unstrapped passengers appeared much gratified by this, whilst the nearby woman still twirled amidst her own blood. A third extremely violent kick sideways tipped the section up at an angle, my seat straps strained along with everyone else, the ridiculous sirens stopped their wailing and thankfully the tumbling end over end was now almost imperceptible. I couldn't understand why the sirens were used at all, all they had done was scare the shit out of the passengers and numb their brains for a short period. All these types of landers had separate sections, each pressurised individually and each with limited although necessary piloting capability, I figured that someone had sorted the stabilisers out first to enable us to have a chance of surviving. As the tumbling stopped, my thoughts turned to what sort of catastrophic problem had caused our little calamity. There must have been a blast, exact cause unknown, and what the hell had happened to the rest of the Lutter?

 

A voice then stuttered into life onto A section's intercom and an overly-loud male voice began to speak. “I have stabilised the section.”

Not quite true I thought. We still had motion, but backwards and subtly right, it was at least no longer violent and was a damn sight safer than earlier.

“I would be most grateful if somebody with flight dynamics experience could help me out back here?”

I knew a bit, but kept silent ... a low profile was best in my position.

Not that it mattered, a small man - Parkin, was that his name? - five or six seats back on the port side of our section of Lutter moved tentatively towards the rear using the seats to stop himself from spinning in the weightlessness. He was dressed in combat gray overalls and wasn't instantly recognisable - although I had guessed his name, as I mentally scanned the passenger list that I had retrieved on Sunday, but then I had only noted people that I perceived to be of any importance or that I would have to talk to or deal with directly. He stopped and guided the unconscious Anne Jackson back into her seat - the globules of blood remained free floating to my right.

The section had been fully booked on Sunday - eighteen passengers in total.

 

Obviously I hadn't checked to see if anybody would cancel or not and when I had arrived at Houston early on Monday, A section turned out to be two passengers short, then there was Charlotte of course and presumably the section's steward as well. Hopefully, Charlotte should be OK, Yeah, she should be bruised and shocked but generally OK.

In the shock of our situation, I had almost blotted her entirely out of my mind.

I loosened my seat straps and turned to look down the central aisle for her. I couldn't see her at first, but then someone had got her seated. No doubt I would see her pretty face again after we'd got ourselves down.

The loud male voice boomed out over the intercom,

“Ladies, Gentlemen ... This is Steward Fredericks speaking. We ... that Mr Parkin and I, have made a quick assessment and we figure that the best policy right now is simplicity. We have therefore decided to land upon the Moon as soon as possible and signal for help.“

As I heard it, I knew straight away.

“Hopefully, this delay will take no more than two or three hours. When Mr Parkin and I have more information, we will relay it immediately.”

Lies - unadulterated lies. It must have been obvious to the other passengers as well in particular the regular shuttle-riders. I wondered ... If we had been only twenty to thirty minutes from landing at Alexandria, then we would almost certainly be quite some distance away now, and definitely north of Alex, probably over the highlands somewhere, which wasn't good.

My brain began to grind over the possibilities for myself, not that I didn't trust this pair, but they weren't looking out for the personal safety of John Hireson ... I was!

If we land ... it’ll be bumpy but relatively safe, when the beacons are turned on ... we shouldn't have to wait more than a few hours.

Of course there were major flaws with this little idea ... we don't know where we are for a start, hence the delay before rescue could be a long one ... possibly longer than our on-board supplies of air and water. And this plan assumes that we haven't sustained any damage to our major systems. The beacons should work but we don't know what happened to spark our little disaster initially on our journey into Alex do we ? Personally, I'd have gone with another plan. Spend a little time looking first, set off our beacons now, something is bound to pick up the signal, then get as close to a base as possible before landing. There might even be a base fully within range of our limited fuel ... although I doubted it. Steward Fredericks loud voice again spoke,

" Please strap yourselves in tightly ... we will attempt to land in a few minutes. "

……………

 

I tightened my seat straps as far as I could and stupid as it might have seemed, I crossed my fingers and hoped we'd be ok. I couldn’t believe that my personal safety would now depend on a ‘Fredericks’? Weird?

I spent a fleeting moment allowing my mind to caress Eleanor, which was another story entirely.

Obviously the descent was in itself not at all dangerous, but, the landing ... Now that was another thing entirely.

These old types of landers were similar in design to most classes of modern sub-orbital buses, but because they only operated from orbital transfer stations to bases they weren't very rugged, especially as separated sections ...

Normally, I'd have opted for one of the excellent first-class OTL's, but I didn't want to attract any attention to myself, so I'd taken the cheap commercial one instead, dear old Lutter.

Brilliant strategy ... I thought sarcastically.

(To be Continued)

Copyright John Abbott

 

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part 1 of 2)

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part 1 of 2)

There was I.

Alone, stuck here … for ever as far as I knew.

Money was tight … it had always been so. I knew exactly what was needed to change the situation and whose responsibility it was to act as a catalyst. 

I began to plan. I planned for the day when I would have the opportunity to rattle the corporate cage and break free. 

I worked hard and squeezed in my time on the net, and finally the day that I had planned for arrived. 

I took all the money I could lay my hands on, then I relocated … fast

……………

2108 AD - Earth Space

I am twenty-six years old and I’ve been to Space seven times and actually been out onto the lunar surface on three of those occasions. now I realise that that doesn't make me one of Earth's greatest explorers or come to think of it, even put me up there with an Ice miner out in Jovian Space, but the desire was the same...

I didn't want to eke out my existence in my own little plot, seeing similar down-trodden people in similar down-trodden places. I just couldn't see me foisting my own little sarcastic sense of humour on anybody for their whole life. I wanted desperately to explore, to see things with my own eyes and to do things that others simply hadn't had the opportunity to do.

It was this desire that had left me going nowhere. I had no knowledge of my real parents, they either did not want me or could not afford to keep me - it didn't matter, compared to some, I had indeed been blessed. I had been recognised as an intelligent child (whatever that meant) and been pushed into the correct educational facilities by my foster parents for most of my life, all of which, I had vivid memories.

……………

I was half-laying in the chair as I flipped the white plastic cup sideways out of my hand, it spat globules of light brown liquid into the air like raindrops as it clattered into the dark grey plastic bin that stood a couple of yards away.

 

I had finished my third cup of sugarless, strong tea, I didn’t recognise any special flavouring, just traditional boring tea, not some disgusting Earl Grey, and was anxious to get on with the task in hand - I only had the rest of the week to see out and PDT Kravitz was out of my short life. I had little doubt that memories of his persistent shouting would haunt me for some time, perhaps forever.

I turned round, sat up and verbally logged on.

"Hireson, John." The computer in front replied quietly, sounding very laid back. (nonchalantly)

”Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Job Search please?"

"Thank you." pause  "Begin when requested please.  I wish..."

…………… 

None of us were searching for a profound answer to life's mysteries when we had agreed on our plan. Alright, that's not precise enough, I certainly wasn't searching for an answer - and all of my three friends had spoken to me at great length on the subject of life and the Universe. I suppose we all had reasons/questions, but no answers.

 

In this day and age, I find it highly amusing that we still send snail-mail, but, it is relatively quick, even by todays standards and it's certainly safer than any form of electronic mail. And so that's how we had confirmed our agreement on the final rendezvous.

Any Wednesday, (July to September) - Alexandria Base - Griffin's Bar - 20:00 hours.

 

Bink !

The red light came on ...

The CPU had been given instructions to run it's program on some random occasion within a three year time-span. That random moment was now... The program had begun...

In the eerie near-vacuum of Space, the program had a start date of the fourth February 2108. It's eyes and ears began to look and listen, to separate the cacophony of sounds and to assess the vast number of images that passed within it's range. It was searching

... searching ...searching ... calculating ... re-calculating ... searching. It was hunting for it's prey ...

……………

Earth Space - Tuesday February 8th - 11:05 GMT - 2108

On board Commercial Orbital Transfer Lander “Lutter”, approaching Alexandria Base - just south of Julius Caesar Watch Station on the Moon, marginally east of the Sea of Tranquility.

……………

"What's that Shelt?"  

"What?"

" That ? What is that ? " said Jim.

Amidst a huge array of blinking lights on the headsets, something nagged.

" Uh ? "

" Shelt ? What the hell is it ? "

" Christ knows ? " Replied Shelt glaring into the headset.

" Shelt ... call it in. That blue one shouldn't be there ! "

" I know, but Jim ... what about the time ? "

" Sod the time. Call it in ! "

" Jim ... ? " I queried his obvious fear.

" No ... No sodding about. I want it called in ! "

" We don't know what it is. "

" Precisely Shelt. I'll do it myself if I have to. “ Said Jim impatiently.

" OK., OK.. I haven't a clue what I'm gonna tell’ em though. "

" Tell them what you damn well want ! But for Christ's sake tell’ em ! "

" Delta Five ... Delta Five. This is COTL Lutter. We have a problem. Possible bogey. I repeat, Possible bogey. Please check our sector. "

A small crackle of officialdom replied. " Affirmative. Sector check for Commercial OTL Lutter - await our comments please. "

" Shelt ... help them to find it ... we don't want no nasty surprises do we ? "

" What are you ... my mother ? Said Shelt, they’ll find it and it will be some pile of space junk. Just you wait and see. "

" You hope ! " My thoughts were elsewhere.

I was more concerned about the time. Another poxy hold-up. I hated the work and nothing ever seems to go with the schedule nowadays. I'd promised the girls that I wouldn't put up with any shit like last time - but here we are, fourteen hours late already, we'd had a hold-up at Troy Transfer Station waiting for some Earth government officials - any more hold-ups and the base would want strip-searches again, which would really set the girls off. I'd told them that we'd be straight out, minimum stop-over at Alex, then dock the Lutter back at Troy, hey presto, then a quick return home to Houston via a shuttle. Unfortunately, there had been all sorts of wild reports coming out from the ‘Belt’ about various craft and different issues, etc, etc.

" Shelt. I'm sorry to keep on, but what about the girls ? "

“ Christ ... he's a nightmare. “, thought Shelt,  “ OK, OK. I'll tell them. OK. Just give Julius Caesar a chance to sort it. I'll give them four or five minutes OK ? “

……………

“Well Jenny. What do you think ? "

" He's OK. He's not exactly my cup of tea, but ... " Charlotte broke in, she always did. " Yeah, yeah. But do you think it's worth a try ? " giggled Charlotte.

" Look Charlotte - he's probably married or homosexual. " My mind added - or simply uninterested in your dark locks, Charlotte dear ...

……………

I hoped that Charlotte gave me my drink and not Jennifer. Jenny was certainly attractive, her medium length, shaggy blonde hair and her general demeanour were pleasant enough, but I think she had probably eyed-up everyone aboard, including the women, and that sort of girl wasn't for me - short-term or otherwise. Now Charlotte was a different matter. She too was attractive, but her smiles seemed more genuine.

She also had beautiful shiny, dark hair, cut short and an arse I would sing for.

……………

" Wish me luck Jenny, eh ? " beamed Charlotte.

Jennifer’s answer was a smiling quip as she strode from the galley. " No chance, he's the only decent looking guy on board. " I realised that I didn't actually know that, we only serviced section's A and B, the rear and the centre. Section C was off-limits to us stewardesses. Section C at the front of this lander, was probably full of government lackeys, civil servants and their ilk. Who cared. She had momentarily depressed me, for every man I'd met, Jenny had met ten. God knows, she'd probably slept with most of them as well. I was split, sort of jealous and sort of glad. Jealous of her luck ... alright ... charm, I understood it, but didn't like it nonetheless. And glad that I wasn't such a tart. I was just about her closest friend and obviously I been told all the tedious details. That wasn't fair - it might have got tedious at times, but I had enjoyed hearing about them ... My, my, my, we have had some laughs, I thought.

My earpiece cackled. " Charlie, everything OK ? " Poor old Shelt. He hated these trips, but he had to put in another few months to get his pension.

" Charlie ... One last run with the drinks OK. We've got to be down in thirty-five minutes. OK Charlie ? "

" No problem Shelt. I'll do section B and Jenny has already started on A. “ 

…………… 

As I opened my eyes, the sight that enveloped my vision was exactly what I had expected to see. I had never tired of the view to Earth from an Orbital Transfer Vehicle. This elegant blue and white orb has a special place in my heart - of course it was home, but I felt something deeper, stronger, more profound, the reason was - natural environmental safety. For all humans, Earth was special, it was the only planet with a breathable atmosphere - or to be precise, the only one at the moment - Mars was down for terra-forming and the search for others was taking place out there in deep Space. I had become a frequent visitor to various parts of Earth Space and I returned to the gracious gentle environment of earth as often as time allowed. I believed that although an Earthman and despite the fragility of humankind, I was born to travel into Space. My mind wandered back over  years in a moment. I could remember being fourteen years old with the clarity of a book being slammed down in front of me. 

……………

Slammmmm !!! went the book hitting the desktop.

" What's up Hireson ! You can't recall, can you ? Think boy, think hard and then think again ! Get that memory into gear will you ! "

The present bane of my life ... Mr 'blasted' Kravitz ! Tall, thin, bespectacled, moustached, grey-haired PD Teacher. PD officially meant Personal Development, but we all called our Personal Development Teachers, Permanent Dimmer Twats. Obvious reasons really, One; they were always there. Two; they have the universal effect upon us of lessening the light. And finally, three; they were unpleasant and stupid, apparently incapable of having coherent thoughts.

 

Magically, the alarm bell rang, hence saving me from further embarrassment.

" OK Hireson, you're off the hook. Tomorrow's session will be easy. That is, for me. You've been jamming in the work for six or seven weeks now, so we are going to throw you in the deep end and see just how bloody gifted you are, or not, as the case may be. Tomorrow's session will be a lengthy essay on you ! We would like a minimum of five thousand words on what path you wish to take with your life. It will be entitled " I wish. ". Don't bring any materials or books with you, you won't need them. You will have the whole days session to produce this piece of work and must present it by 16:30 hours. OK Any questions ?

My mind leapt, the fools ... the careless fools - a walk in the park.

……………

My mind skipped the short sequence before the next day and rammed into fast forward.

To me, it was just like a dream sequence from a movie. PDT standing in front of me, watch face being keenly studied. A word emanated from PDT Kravitz's mouth, " Begin! ". I began to hit the keyboard.

“ I wish. “

“ I wish to be able to dream. I ... “

(To be Continued)

Copyright John Abbott

Sandcastles 02

 Sandcastles 02

By John Abbott

Pretty little things created on the beach

Almost out of reach

Decorated with shells

The stories that relate to those moments, it dwells

And a moat surrounding

with all the noises sounding

Of the gentle flow of waves

Is often all that one craves

 

Like life, it is constant, never-ending

Always in the winds, bending

Build, create, decorate, the children imagining stories

And delighting in great glories

You grow from there to imagine dreams and futures

For you to think about experiences

However, it often deals with disappearances

The waves on the sand causing ripples

Maybe you need to realise

That this often ends, destined to capsize

As the tide gets heavier

Maybe its just a little merrier

It is after all, an epiphany

You go along with the ride

And as we all know, it all washes away with the tide

 

Copyright John Abbott

 JIT – Journey In Time (Part Four & Last)

 (Contains scenes of an upsetting/distressing nature)

By John Abbott

I had only seen one or two women in stages of undress before, I had never seen a woman entirely naked in the daylight hours ever. My knowledge of women was not as wide as I would have liked, but her plain face had not done her any justice. Her pale white body was beautiful. Hanna lay almost motionless on her back upon the table, her knees were up and firmly together. Sil with a jug of wine in his right hand, planted his left hand upon her knees. He was grinning and dribbling wine as he declared again.

"I want you woman!"

Sil dropped the jug and forcibly prised Hanna's knees apart. She shuddered and her head rolled from side to side but she did not scream as Sil, in a mad sexual frenzy, opened his breeches and proceeded to enter her. She grunted at the force and weight of the man but still did not scream, her face was a wide-eyed mask of abject terror. Sil was pushing violently into her whilst pinning her arms to the table and was grinning as he reached his peak of sexual excitement. Ashamedly, I too found myself in a state of frenzy. I find it hard to believe now but I had become sexually excited, and as I followed the indecent acts of Sil, my mind was blank - no feeling at all. Rosch was in a blubbering heap on the floor, as Sil approached Hanna for a second time. He lowered his head towards her pudendum and at that moment she leapt up, screaming.

" Nooooo ! God !, noooo ! "

 

She jumped off the table, landing on her feet unsteadily, and with no hesitation she ran wildly screaming out of the half-open door. Both Sil and I pushed outside to see this poor naked woman scampering away from the western edge of the village. We looked at each other in an alcoholic daze, neither of us attempting speech. I tried to sit on the doorstep but collapsed drunkenly, whilst Sil began to move across the village towards part of our company, who had obviously heard the screaming and had stepped outside various households to find the source. Through my glazed eyes I could see that as Sil angrily approached them, most were laughing and shouting encouragement.

In the next few minutes, most of our group arrived at the door of the Rosch home. Rosch himself had presumably left through a back door and had not been seen leaving by anyone. Within seconds, as they consistently cajoled Sil about this event, I was being plied with more alcohol. A minute, maybe more, and I was violently ill all down the front of my own shirt.

The next thing that I have any memory of occurred many hours later. Apparently, I had passed out, and had been carried out of the village by Presten and, along with the rest of the company, was bound for the Imperial city of Rothenburg. The remainder of the story has been recounted to me by Sil, and due to his bad English, may well be lacking in detail.

After I had passed out, the company had spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening drinking the village dry of wine. Then all settled down for the night. It seems that Rosch, who had rushed to the next village for help, returned during that evening. As our Company slept off the afternoons carousing, the angry villagers, led by Rosch, made off with all the horses and stole all the weapons. By the time anyone awoke and realised what had happened, the villagers had returned again in large numbers, sixty to seventy of them, at least. The villagers then proceeded to give a sound beating to all the members of our Company, I personally received an immense amount of bruises to my body and head along with a very swollen right ankle.

It seems that I misjudged Presten badly. He was not happy with our conduct in Linden and, apparently, he and Moss went missing on Wednesday after we had reached Rothenburg. After our party had fled the village, Fraser had decided that the only option open to us to enable us to recover our horses and weaponery would be to appeal to the Beadle of Rothenburg, who upheld the rule of law in this territory. Fraser was right. Upon hearing our story, obviously omitting any unlawful portions, the Beadle decided to visit Linden, on our behalf. He could not allow the villagers to take the law into their own hands. Fortunately, I had to stay in Rothenburg to allow myself to recover from a badly sprained ankle. The Beadle did indeed travel to Linden, and from what I have been led to believe, with Fraser's help, immediately arrested three of the villagers. Obviously, the villagers made vehement protests and, within the next few hours, the Beadle heard the real story of the forcible entry to peoples homes and of the stealing of all the village's wine. And, most important of all, the appearance of Georg Rosch's wife, Hanna, which gave her the chance to explain her tale of the monstrous rape by a ' Fat Swede ' and a ' White-haired ' soldier. The Beadle then had little option other than to let the villagers free, and he also managed to recover the horses and most of the weapons which appeased Fraser enormously.

 

I came from Briel with an open mind and heart. I had hopes, expectations ... all have been dashed like hailstones against the ground, worn and battered like rocks in a sea storm. I know not what to do next or where to turn. They say that this terrible war will soon be over, but there still appears to be no sign of a peace. Everywhere there is envy, hatred and greed: that’s what this war has taught me... Some live like animals, eating bark and grass, and the weak are preyed upon by all, without any fear for the consequences. I could never have imagined that anything like this would happen to me.

Many people say there is no God...

  

JONATHON THOMAS VINCENT - APRIL 1634 - ROTHENBURG

Unlike my long-lost relative, Jonathon Thomas Vincent, I knew of the outcome of this situation. In my long patient search for the details surrounding my family's history, I have come across many minor facts which, at first, appeared irrelevant, but later were to become essential to the plot.

Apparently this series of events was reported in minute detail to the Swedish commander, a certain General Horn, who, whilst expressing his disapproval, decided against any form of discipline for the officer responsible. But he was keen to remind the officer that the soldiery were not to molest the peasantry.

By the year of our Lord 1641, there were no more peasants to molest in Linden, for the village was by then uninhabited - and it was to remain so for the rest of the war.

 

REVEREND JONATHON THOMAS VINCENT - NOVEMBER 1990

(Rothenburg ob der Tauber)

(for the benefit of non-historians, The Thirty Years War - 1618 to 1648)

 

 

Copyright John Abbott