Glasgow Sun
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“Honest officer, that tree jumped out right in front o’ me.”
McNab glared at the sprawled figure on the grass verge, wrapped around a bicycle. He guessed how this man came to be inside his barracks at eleven o’clock at night.
“Get up ye
Sergeant John McNab of the Black Watch regiment was a strong, 5’ II’ Ayrshireman from a coalmining family. Earning the rank of sergeant had been the most important achievement in his life. No-one could deny he had worked hard and deserved his promotion. Now he was ready to fight Nazis or, if the latest rumor was true, Japs. February 1941 was full of rumors, especially in Maryhill Barracks in
McNab’s reddish hair indicated the possibility of a fiery temper; now his normally fair complexion had turned a bright red.
He knew civilians liked to buy pints of ‘heavy’ for the lads. He knew they reveled in the lads’ exaggerated stories of their war experiences. He knew that if one of them produced a bottle of whiskey at closing time, the lads would attempt to smuggle him into the barracks. He knew all this.
He didn’t condone it but he couldn’t help feeling pleased knowing the vicarious thrill experienced by the common man associating with the best fighting men in the world.
Nevertheless this crumpled mass, reeking of whiskey, whining about moving trees had to be booted out and quickly. The cloth cap or ‘bunnet’ and filthy raincoat were typical of the average tenement dweller in Maryhill. McNab had nothing against people from poor backgrounds, he was also from just such a background, but he hated whiners. He reached down toward the person lying under the tree.
It was the last thing John McNab would ever do.
The crumpled mass moved with stupendous speed. His hand grasped the back of his cloth cap and whipped the front across McNab’s throat. The razor blades embedded in the skip slashed deeply, then feet pressed into NcNab’s belly, throwing him on his back and a surprisingly strong hand clamped over his mouth.
A few low gurgling sounds came from McNab as his uncomprehending eyes sought an answer.
“You should huv’ been brought up in Glasgae an’ ye wid know somethin’ about bunnets” said the ‘git’.
McNab died quickly.
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About the Book
What happened during Jack Campbell’s childhood in the slums of
What did the brilliant, aristocratic head of
With
Why was it necessary to restrict knowledge of this plan to five people including the Emperor?
Why was it crucial to keep
Why were
What did
Was it the contentment he found in
All the answers are in this sizzling spy story of World War II made more dramatic by the inclusion of historic facts. At the end the revelation of the top secret plan, Empire, will chill your heart.
About the Author
About the Author
Bob Fisher was born in
Whether waking up one morning in
His many years living in The Far East allowed him the opportunity to study the culture, customs and history of several Asian countries. This resonates in his writing.
He and his wife have lived in six countries. Their three children were born in three continents, Asia, Europe and