Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2019 14:28:32 +0100
From: Vintage Speedoboy
Subject: Blitz Boy 5

This story is based around the British comic series Blitz boy which tells
the exploits of Quick Mick; the son of a wealthy London department store
owner who was found buried in rubble after a bombing and lost his memory.

When the bomb fell, he was shielded from the might of the blast despite
being blown against another boy carrying a football.

Old Mick is aged 92 and lives at Walkabout Creek in the Northern Territory
of Australia since being evacuated during the war and never went back to
the `Old Country'. Tom Fullbrick (Fullprick), a retired mechanical engineer
of dual nationality met up with Old Mick in the bar of the Walkabout Creek
hotel and is now charged with publishing his journal which he wrote as a
boy during the dark days of the London Blitz and has also agreed in
assisting in repairing his WW2 vintage Indian 741B motorcycle as well as
enjoying his erotic adventures.

This story is entirely a work of fiction and any named characters bearing
any relation to actual persons living or dead is purely unintentional.

Nifty is a wonderful resource of stories for the LGBT community, however,
unlike an old lexicon book gathering dust on a shelf and not costing
anything to be there as well as being unread. It is a website which relies
entirely on public donations to keep operating which thankfully has stood
the test of time so please find it in your heart to send them a few
greenbacks or whatever currency your country has and please look in their
shop window for their lovely shoulder bag to contain your erotic books or
electronic devices to read on aeroplanes.

Signed Vintagespeedoboy.

Blitz boy 5.

Kyneton Victoria.

It wasn't long before whatever clothes or swimsuits everyone wore soon came
off which gave John's off the grid weatherboard property the air of being a
nudist colony. Young Richard Holder also arrived to join us for Christmas
and surprised all of us not only by his transformation into a truly
beautiful hermaphrodite, he certainly made a startling entrance with a
hugely brilliant flash illuminating the entire interior of the house which
scared everyone thinking it was a lightning strike except there was no loud
bang or immediate deafening roll of thunder having been beamed down here
from the Antares in space wearing a skin tight black see through mesh long
sleeve nylon tee shirt showing his black see through underwired bra which
gave his breasts an obscene uplift topped by his thimble sized nipples on
puffy budding breasts which gave him the most amazing nipple pokies.

Lower down he wore tiny lycra booty shorts sporting a huge log like cock
bulge to his right, sheer black stockings held up with a suspender belt and
shiny black high heel boots carrying his olive green cadet backpack packed
for a stay on the island back in the UK.

Moments later this was followed by a second flash with a large package
consisting of mosquito coils and four of my own Uco nine hour candle
lanterns with spare citronella candles to keep the bugs away at
night. Dylan's and Dylanne's backpacks and my Norwegian army food container
containing Dylan's two pint Stanley vacuum flask containing ice cold breast
milk, British Airways coffee, a jar of honey from the island and two
Tupperware containers of breast milk cheese suddenly appearing in the
middle of the front green with a note from Ellen. Dylan knew what this
package was immediately which was stored in their garage. It was the WW2
British army bell tent which Ellen bought off ebay for the winter camp on
the island, pitching this tent fixed the problem of a lack of bed spaces in
the house and we set to work pitching this tent.

For a tent nearly 80 years old I was surprised that it was still in good
condition knowing this tent is not only worth a fortune, it could also make
Ellen some money from hiring it out to fetes, re-enactment groups &c. It
was made of brown canvas and the best way of describing it was the bell
tents seen in the 1969 movie Battle of Britain.

It was decided that all the youngsters would sleep in the tent leaving
John, Melvin's and Brandon's mums and I sleeping in both double beds in the
house whilst Dylan, Brandon, Melvin, Dylanne, Luigi, Rowan and Richard
would be sleeping outside in the bell tent. Meanwhile Jimmy and Zoltan was
beamed down on a lonely road outside of the town with their mountain bikes,
cadet backpacks, money, bank cards and a map with a shopping list for the
turkey, spuds, veggies, Christmas pudding which ended up with Jimmy calling
me on his mobile phone having found out they couldn't get all their
shopping into their backpacks. I passed my phone to John who drove to their
location in his Land Rover series one and collected them and with two
mountain bikes now with us, everyone took turns in riding them along the
tracks exploring whilst Dylan rode John's Honda CT110 ex Australia post
motorcycle around the bush with Jimmy riding his Honda XL250 Motosport and
when they arrived back they had swapped machines with Dylan riding the
trail bike with a Cheshire cat like grin and I must say that for a 16 year
old, he certainly knew how to ride the trail bike off road.

In many ways I felt for him knowing that a 16 year old in the UK could have
started out as a learner when the bike was new in 1973, now he's restricted
to a power restricted 49cc automatic moped in the UK whereas here in the
state of Victoria, he would have to wait till he's 18 as John and I fondly
remember the good old days when I became thunderstruck with the realization
that in my hand luggage I had my Corsair waterproof USB flash drive and on
it was Vivian's cine films taken at the Royal Forrester cider house during
that hot summer of 1976 in the UK of motorcycles racing along the Drift
road starting from the Hawthorn hill crossroads with the road running
straight as a die then hitting a series of bumps before passing the pub at
well over the ton and amongst the riders there was a 17 year old Vivian on
his 1968 IOMTT Honda CB450 `Black Bomber' production racer. I frantically
went inside to dig out the flash drive so everyone could watch the movie
later which having been copied from the original cine film, there was no
sound.

Both Richard and Jimmy cooked our nightcaps of chicken soup over the
barbecue before everyone retired for the night. John and I lovingly kissed;
caressed, fondled and made love to the women we were sleeping with before
pushing our cocks into their sopping wet pussies and to be having sex
between nylon tricot bed sheets certainly added to the pleasures we were
experiencing whereas the lads in the tent were certainly giving Jimmy,
Dylanne and Richard their money's worth despite Richard still recovering
from surgery and told not to have penetrative sex until his hip bone grew
out although his pussy under his balls was certainly ready to be eaten out
and he's able to cum with girl juice as well as shooting even more spunk
from his now hugely fat 10 inch cock and as a bonus, he now has a pair of C
or D cup breasts which are lactating small amounts of breast milk which his
consultant has brought on albeit a small wineglass full came out from each
breast and having regularly drank their Garden of Eden fruit juice, this
has added a wonderful flavour to his milk.

Thankfully Zoltan has tested the water supply from the tanks at each corner
of the house with his personal test kit he brought with him from the ship
and gave us a box of aquatabs despite the water in the tanks proving to be
safe. I saw that these aquatabs are the same as the ones in British army 24
hour ration packs which can only mean that someone from the ship's company
has bought loads of them for the ship's stores in the UK and beamed them
up, I rightly guessed it was either Jimmy or Zoltan having found out about
them a decade ago from me.

Both Dylanne and Dylan took every one of those boys cocks in turn and even
from inside the house we could hear them both screaming as they both had
their highly intense simultaneous orgasms. It was Richard who finally sunk
his huge cock into Dylan's snatch under his balls and filled him up with a
truly monster load of spunk the same as Jimmy when he became transformed
into a hermaphrodite by their methods.

Out of all the boys here, Dylanne was truly amazed at Melvin who certainly
knew how to use his 15 year old monster cock to good effect and as for his
lovemaking skills; his mother had certainly taught him well. Dylanne truly
loved how this boy performed describing him as the best one of his age
she's ever had and he certainly gave Richard's cock a good shagging with
his boy pussy hole who certainly saw him as an ideal candidate for a
hermaphrodite transformation, a subject he will broach with his mother the
next morning.

During the night I must have heard the email alert go off 19 to the dozen
on my Iphone beside the bedside cabinet and when I finally woke up on
hearing the alarm clock, I put on my reading glasses and scrolled through
them without actually opening them to read them which I would be doing
after breakfast.

We certainly had loads of sex with both women during the night and by
morning both bedrooms certainly reeked of the smells of sex and our sex
fluids were on our bodies and the nylon tricot bed sheets so we quickly
stripped the bed, put them in the wash and showered together.

I walked across to their tent totally naked, opened the entrance, (This
tent being really old school had cordage loops which were fed through
eyelets) smelling the heady aroma of sex, sweat and teen boy smells as they
began to stir seeing a pile of sleeping bag liners thrown into a vacant bed
space which I knew immediately they were for the washing machine and called
out. "Merry Christmas."

With loads of mouths to feed, John came out and loaded both his old Soyer
stove and the barbecue with wood and lit their fires after having lit the
fire in his solid fuelled Aga cooker leaving both women to attend to our
breakfasts.

The fire burned intensely in the Soyer stove heating up the water quickly
to give all the youngsters their stirrup pump showers followed by John and
I cooking their full English breakfasts on both the Soyer stove's and
barbecue's fires, at least with John's ancient Soyer stove one could alter
the air feeding the fire with the hatch at the bottom and without its
boiling vessel it worked like a giant hobo stove.

After breakfast and completing the washing up, everyone remained naked
apart from wearing flip flops until John received a phone call that Luigi's
mum was coming to collect both him and Rowan so everyone hurriedly donned
their shorts with Dylanne, Dylan, Richard and the women putting on their
bras followed by their vests whilst the rest of us remained shirtless. Both
Rowan and Luigi packed their backpacks and their tent just in time when she
arrived.

Over coffee we talked with Luigi's mum who gave Melvin kisses and hugs
saying her goodbyes and wishing both him and his mum every success in the
UK with tears in her eyes. Dylanne spoke with her saying.

"Both of them are traveling on the same flight as myself so I'll be keeping
an eye on them to make sure they have a good flight," to which she replied.

"Thank you, you're very kind."

They exchanged addresses, phone numbers and email addresses before she
finally drove away with the two boys.

The rest of the morning was spent replying to text messages, emails &c when
John hooked up his computer printer so everyone could print off those
Christmas cards which came with their emails. I had loads to write so I
kept them short and attached many Christmas card photos including one of
the painting `winter constellation' by Malcolm Root which I sent to Jane.

Having finished my emails and shut down my Tokyo Spider laptop, I opened
Dorian's old laptop having wrote `Old Mick's journal and continued
re-writing this onto the laptop followed by backing it up onto my
waterproof Corsair USB flash drive.

Gibraltar, October 1940.

After landing here seeing stunning views of the rock topped with a white
cloud as the aircraft approached and finally landed on the water and taxied
to the jetty. During refueling, no one was allowed to smoke, those who
wanted to disembarked from the aircraft and walked to a lounge with a
bar. I ordered a small bottle of ice cold Spanish San Miguel beer which
filled a half pint glass as this was the cheapest with a tuna sandwich and
lit up one of my Capstan full strength navy cut cigarettes finding there
was only three left in the pack. I must say this Spanish beer was very good
so I made a mental note of it into my notebook should I ever encounter this
on my travels. I had to find some more and the bartender directed me to a
popular British shop where I bought a carton of 200 cigarettes then walked
smartly back to the bar waiting to be called.

Having finally boarded the aircraft took off taking a long run up on the
water before it finally lifted off from the sea bound for Freetown in
Sierra Leone and escorted out to sea by one spitfire which finally waggled
its wings then left us on the rest of our journey alone, right out in the
Atlantic at 12'000 feet miles from land flying right through the night. I
learned that we were lucky to have a smooth flight, especially in the
tropics which are known for frequent violent storms and landed there early
the next morning.

We spent the day there until the following morning whilst mechanics worked
on the aircraft in a hotel; it was so unbearably hot everyone was sweating
just on the drive to the hotel. Once there I had my British schoolboy
clothes laundered, changed and went swimming in the hotel's pool, even
whilst underwater, the sun was so strong I would have been sun burnt had I
stayed in there any longer.

For the rest of the day I wore white linen summer trousers with a matching
loose fitting white linen short sleeve shirt, both the shirt and trousers
were practically see through that everyone could clearly see my white silk
boxer shorts underwear and my cock dangled down my thigh forming a very
prominent fat log like bulge, especially when it frequently became hard at
over eight inches long forming such a huge tent, I can't even hide it with
my hands. My entire legs and my entire upper torso are certainly visible
through the material along with my budding breasts and nipples poking out
the shirt, I'm sure women must have noticed this and being at the stage of
life where my cock was always becoming hard at the drop of a hat, wherever
I walked I was on the constant lookout for somewhere to sit whenever this
happened.

I sat in the hotel lounge and was about to light up a cigarette when a bell
boy stopped me and passed me one from the complimentary box on the table. I
learned that cigarettes here cost a mere fraction of what they cost in
England which explains why the hotel was able to hand them out like
confetti. I saw that the cigarettes are Players navy cut which are English
and lit one up when the bell boy took several from the box and popped them
into my shirt pocket.

For a dark skinned African boy he looked very smart and handsome indeed and
when I wanted to go outside and explore, he stopped me telling me.

"It's not safe as bad men will kidnap you and either sell you into slavery
or if you're lucky, you may last a few years in a brothel, after that, they
kill you."

On hearing this I realized even with a war on England is still a much safer
country to live in and the English people here live in houses which are
both fenced and gated and never walk anywhere, they are always driven and
their drivers carry guns. During my stay here I never left the confines of
the hotel.

The bell boy came to my room after his duty finished, he was 15 and like me
was gagging for sex, he slowly stripped off my clothes whilst sensually
caressing me planting me with kisses then sucked on my nipples like a baby
which felt really awesome as they were so sensitive when I felt a tingling
sensation in my balls, he knelt down and sucked my already huge hardened
cock which was dripping onto the carpet saying.

"You will be a very good lover, see this sign, it is your nectar of love,
this tells me that you will always find love throughout your life," as he
showed me my dripping cock juices, he scooped some up with a finger and
bade me to taste my own juices which I did and surprisingly it tasted
really nice which really surprised me.

He too had a large cock the same length as mine but thinner and it too was
hard but it wasn't leaking like mine, I gave it a few strokes when he
stopped me as what he really came here for was to take my huge monster up
his rear hole and he had it lubed up ready for me when he passed me a small
tin of babies petroleum jelly to lube my own cock with.

He laid across the bed raising his legs and beckoned me to his truly huge
gaping hole, this is something I've never seen before as every single boy's
hole was small and had to be stretched out, not this blighter as my cock
slid straight up his hole right in as far as it would go when he began
doing the most amazing things with his arse muscles and they were very
strong indeed, this boy could, if he wanted to could really strangle my
cock.

Lust coursed throughout my body as not only was my balls tingling with
pleasure, I felt an amazing sensation inside my breasts and the insides of
my arse was also pulsing with pleasure, so much so that when I came, the
sensations were so intense I wanted to scream as each well spaced out huge
jet of my spunk gushed deep within him and even after I pulled out another
jet of spunk flew out of my cock hitting him in the face before dribbling
onto the carpet. I licked some of my own spunk off his face and was amazed
that it too tasted like nectar and swallowed it, no wonder he was eager to
scoop off and taste the remainder which he too swallowed when finally he
bade me to take a shower together during which he washed me like he was my
own mother.

After this I laid on the bed totally naked reading a book whilst he cleaned
up whatever dripped onto the carpet and we ended up sleeping together. This
was a night I'll remember as long as I live.

I was woken up by the bedside telephone and it was still dark outside, the
bell boy helped me dress into my white linen trousers and shirt and packed
my travel case and satchel before leading me to the dining room for a
proper English breakfast with a packed lunch when we was led out to the
waiting coach for the short drive to the customs/immigration hall then
boarded the flying boat for the next leg over north Africa to Suda Bay on
the Greek island of Crete.

Kyneton, Victoria, Christmas day.

I became so engrossed with re-writing Old Mick's journal into the laptop
then saving it to my flash drive when My Iphone rang one after another with
calls from the UK including one from Old Mick at Walkabout Creek in the
Northern Territory. Some of the calls were either on Skype or face-time and
all of them were wishing me a merry Christmas. I had the phone switched
onto loudspeaker mode which was right for the occasion and even Melvin
received a face-time well wishing call from his schools principal to be
when his email alert went off. After his call ended he booted up his laptop
which thankfully was still crammed with his schoolwork which he was advised
not to delete any of it. He opened the email to receive a lovely surprise
as attached to the email was a video from the school in the UK made by
their year 11 students featuring each one of them wearing their school
uniform introducing themselves with their names, photos of their houses,
hobbies, likes and dislikes, who was in the cadets, after school club,
sports &c and a number of them were proudly displaying their Duke of
Edinburgh's award certificates and for those students who reached 16 before
Christmas, their National Pool lifeguard qualification certificates with
their Royal life saving society bronze medallions. Both Melvin and his mum
became overwhelmed by the video which brought tears to their eyes.

The principal from his old school rang his mum wishing him his best wishes
for Christmas and his future. He too had also received the video featuring
all the year 11 students in the UK and both principals had talked at length
with each other over the phone. He asked her permission to visit during the
afternoon as the whole of year 10 had taken up a collection for him and
signed a very large Christmas card with a sheet of paper stapled to the
card when they ran out of space for their comments and signatures and with
his visit imminent, everyone changed into their tee shirts and shorts
whilst John and I temporarily removed all the washing from the line into
laundry baskets whilst the youngsters tidied up their bedding &c in the
bell tent which had the entrance open and the side walls rolled up for its
daily airing.

The women already had the turkey roasting in the Aga with the roast
potatoes and parsnips about to follow suit, John would be boiling the
sprouts and vegetables on the Soyer stove whilst the Christmas pudding
would be steamed in a large ex Australian army cooking pot on one of the
Aga's hot plates. All the furniture was moved back to allow two folding
tables to be placed end to end with tablecloths draped over them before
setting the table with two Uco 9 hour candle lanterns burning citronella
candles stood on top and god knows how John got hold of those, he just
happened to have a pair of Ronson gas candles which are fuelled by lighter
gas with their stands placing them strategically on the table after
refueling them.

The main course was served just in time to watch the Queen's speech to the
commonwealth at three pm AEST, 11 hours ahead of GMT when the UK would be
watching this 11 hours later followed by the Christmas pudding and finally
the washing and drying up.

Melvin's old principal called round with the large Christmas card and the
money collected by his form. There's an old saying that what's done is done
and he wished now he wasn't expelled, a decision which saw him crying at
the school's loss of an excellent student tempered by his knowledge that he
would be completing his education in the UK which he considered to be a far
better system. He also bought with him a present of a Seiko pilot's
military chronograph which elicited both a huge thank you and whoops of joy
despite breaking a rule about giving his student a parting hug. He spoke to
Dylanne which made him happy that she would be accompanying both him and
his mum on their flight to the UK despite leaving John's house with his
eyes full of tears as he drove away.

The rest of the day was spent watching movies or playing computer games in
the other room whilst the hours passed by into Boxing Day.

The following morning, everyone put on their swimsuits under their tee
shirts and shorts for the drive to Turpin's falls to take part in the
annual Boxing Day swim. Melvin's mum, Richard, Dylanne and Dylan wore their
black female Speedo endurance one piece swimsuits for modesty reasons in
public settings whilst Melvin, John and I wore our swim briefs and
fortunately everyone had their swimming goggles with them.

Having parked in the car park, we were booked in when a teenage lad wrote a
number onto everyone's upper arm then we queued at the start line waiting
for the starter's signal to enter the water and swim to the cliffs on the
opposite side and back with the return line giving the outbound line a very
wide berth. Once out of the water, someone checked and crossed off our
numbers then directed us to a refreshments tent where we each had hot soup,
there was also the option of ordering cooked food but we had sandwiches
instead.

No sooner had we returned to John's off the grid weatherboard house, off
came our clothes, we hand washed our swimsuits and hung them out to dry
spending the rest of the day naked unless we heard any vehicles nearby when
we would quickly slip on our Players nylon tricot vests, swim briefs and
flip flops but this never happened that day.

After breakfast the following morning we took down the bell tent and packed
it into their respective valises, said our goodbyes and passionately hugged
and kissed Richard before he stood in the garden next to the tent, waved a
final goodbye and was gone in a blinding flash aboard the Antares with the
tent, an hour later this was beamed down into Ellen's back garden where she
had some of Dylan's friends drag it into their garage whilst the rest of us
packed for the drive to Melbourne and John's Seabrook residence.

His back garden had a bungalow which in Australia is usually an outbuilding
converted into a living accommodation which is normally rented out to
students whereas in the UK, it's a single storey house. John's bungalow is
best described as being of similar size to a large motor-home. The space
was certainly cramped compared to the off the grid property but it's really
clever layout, unfortunately there is only one double bed which was taken
by Melvin and his mum, Dylanne and Dylan slept in a pull out settee bed
which transforms into a double bed and I slept in John's guest bedroom in
his house.

Although John's bungalow was well stocked with food, we brought a load back
with us from Kyneton and luckily the food from the freezer went into both
John's ex military Norwegian food containers packed in ice which he primed
with salt which had the effect of lowering the temperature even more, a
trick I last saw demonstrated in the science lab at school. These
containers work rather like a hot or cold box keeping food either hot or
cold although in Australia, they're mostly used for keeping bottles or cans
of beer packed in ice until required.

Once we had unpacked, we drove to Avalon beach which is John's favourite
beach on this side of the bay and the first beach since leaving
Seabrook. There are times he wished there was a ferry which crossed the bay
at the mid way point to one of the numerous beaches on the eastern side of
the bay but there isn't one.

This really was a lovely sandy beach which isn't patrolled with a number of
nearby houses overlooking the beach and with us living miles from the sea
back in the UK, visits to the seaside were on the odd occasion to say the
least which is something I could look into for the forthcoming summer plus
having a tent large enough to accommodate the whole group.

Dylanne spent the next few days touring Melbourne with Dylan, Melvin and
his mum in tow showing them the city's sights & attractions, they both wore
identical high leg low rise tiny Daisy Dukes jean shorts to partially
conceal their package bulges with their black Eyeline swim briefs
underneath, their jeans shorts were so tiny that the hems of their swim
briefs were visible below their jeans shorts, She took them to Luna Park in
St Kilda followed by the beach with a walk to Elwood beach which has golden
sands. Dylan certainly noticed that the beaches on the eastern side of the
bay were more crowded whilst I helped John with reassembling Old Mick's
Indian 741B motorcycle engine which when finished looked like it had just
come along the conveyer at the factory for fitting into a new motorcycle
just like it was when the machine was built during WW2 except for stainless
steel fastenings being used during the rebuild when it was crated up for
onward freight to Walkabout Creek the following day.

Whilst at the St Kilda district, Dylanne took them to the massage school
where she trained in ASMR techniques, their teaching staff welcomed her
with open arms with coffee and Arnotts Tim Tams all round. She spoke about
our experiences using the Noogleberry with its breast and penis developer
vacuum tubes which certainly perked their interest and their decision to
add this facility to their list of extra services and she also enlightened
them on the use of breast milk in coffee and for making cheese. She found
out that the demand for human breast milk here is indeed very high which is
sought mainly by bodybuilders and those competing in intensely competitive
sports which has inflated prices on the black market to astronomical levels
which has led to a company in Iceland specializing in babies formula to
develop a product for bodybuilders whilst I returned to writing Old Mick's
journal.

The following day John drove Dylan, Melvin and his mum in his series one
Land Rover whilst Dylanne drove myself, Brandon and his mum in John's Fiat
Uno Platinum 45 out to the Dandenongs east of the city of Melbourne for a
ride on the Puffing Billy narrow gauge steam railway pulled by one of five
Victorian steam locomotives except during days whenever a fire ban is
declared in the State of Victoria, a diesel locomotive is used instead.

This train is a very popular tourist attraction known internationally which
is open every day except Christmas day and during the holiday season the
carriages are packed out with passengers of all ages.

Our journey started at Belgrave taking us through Menzies creek, the
township of Emerald passing the packing shed at Nobelius siding, Lakeside
(Emerald Lake) onwards to Gembrook through stunning beautiful countryside
and thick forests with tall Mountain ash eucalyptus trees reaching up to
the heavens and tree ferns.

This forest is home to the lyre bird which is similar to the peacock, males
are ornately decorated with long tail feathers and their mimicry skills are
unbelievable. It is these birds with their plethora of calls which gave
rise to legends of haunted forests from the early settlers hearing voices,
axes chopping trees, sawing logs &c which over time has now progressed to
the sounds of camera shutters, motor drive cameras, kids toy ray guns,
chain saws, car alarms and there have been occasions where even steam
trains were heard as well as their whistles and there's even a you-tube
video featuring David Attenborough filming these birds in this very forest
and after arriving back from a very interesting day, John set up his
computer to play this you-tube video on his large flat screen TV.

Souda Bay, Crete, October 1940.

The flight to Freetown was cancelled owing to the presence of German
surface raiding ships in the Atlantic which was re-routed to Alexandria
stopping at Souda Bay on the Greek island of Crete. We took off from
Gibraltar taking a route well to the south of the Mediterranean coast where
we saw the Atlas Mountains. Most of the land here was like a desert and
even at this time of year the sunshine was intensely strong before landing
at Souda bay for a refueling stop.

I learned about this island from a boy at school whose parents came from
there and he described it like paradise, especially with its fine sandy
beaches, crystal clear sea water, snow capped mountains, olive groves and
quaint villages locked in time from another century, everything he fondly
described about this island was true, it really was such a beautiful place
and if the war hadn't started I would have suggested to my father to spend
my summer holidays here.

We left here for Alexandria taking an overnight stop taking off at first
light the following morning. From here on the stops became more frequent as
we were well away from the war and highly relieved to be well away from it.

The aircraft was also encountering a lot more turbulence as it flew into
the tropics, passengers were becoming sick, we were spending a lot of time
just strapped into our seats and the waiters struggled to serve our meals
either on time or when we requested them but what surprised me was the
amount of punishment the aircraft took even with a waiter joking that it
must have lost about a thousand rivets but the only relief we got was at
the overnight stops where I was dog tired and glad to fall asleep in a
comfortable hotel bed.

I must have heaved the biggest sigh of relief in my entire life when we
finally landed at Darwin and I really have to take my hat off to all the
aircrew who flew with us as I personally think they've got stomachs like
iron, air legs they call it, if and when it ever became my turn to return
to Blighty, I would hope it's on a luxury liner?

The last leg of the flight out of Darwin was on a twin engined De-Havilland
Dragon Rapide, this plane was built of wood and canvas and really did flex
and creak its bones despite a much smoother flight where all we saw was
bush country for mile after mile when we finally landed at Walkabout Creek
on a dusty airstrip to be met by my uncle who drove me out to his property
on the outskirts in an old model T Ford.

Walkabout Creek, N T, Australia, November 1940.

The heat here was stifling and he got me to change into my school PE shorts
and vest with an old pair of stout hob nail shoes then jump back in his car
for a few miles with his old Lee Enfield .303" service rifle to shoot a
feral pig for dinner and it was me who had to shoot the damn thing and that
rifle kicked like a mule. Before I shot it, he drew one on the sand marking
a cross telling me that's where I have to aim and taught me how to use the
sights.

I shot the pig right where he said and learned they don't always drop down
dead either, that pig squealed when hit and must have ran the distance of a
football pitch before he went down leaving a trail of blood.

Auntie reckoned it was a small boar which weighed about the same as a sack
of spuds and no sooner had we got it home, she started butchering it right
away after uncle and I hung it up then I had to wash and prepare the
veggies. The one part of the pig she treasured was the hind legs which she
cures in salt for ham as well as various cuts for bacon.

It was sundown by the time we ate our evening meal and I had to do the
washing up afterwards when boy, was I dog tired afterwards, I don't
remember getting into bed because uncle carried me in, stripped me naked
and tucked me in.

The following morning auntie shook me awake leaving a towel on the bed to
wrap around myself, grab my wash bag and walk to an outside wooden shed
which is the only place where I can go and sneak a good wank every time I
feel horny. This shed contains the bath, toilet, shower unit above the bath
and next to it was an old antiquated wood chip fuelled bath heater fed by a
hose from a water tower beside the shed. She already had the bath heater
lit with the stop cock on the water feed pipe turned on and all I had to do
was turn on a lever which either fed the shower above or filled the bath
from a pipe when I decided it was hot enough.

I took my shower after which I had to turn off the stop cock and swing out
the tray with burning wood chips dousing the fire, then went back inside
and dressed for breakfast and boy it was a real plateful of bacon, eggs,
baked beans, black pudding with an enameled mug of very strong sweet tea
with two slices of buttered toast. A few weeks of these breakfasts would
have any schoolboy in England packing on the pounds whereas here you needed
every calorie you could get because out here you worked really hard and
it's no wonder that boys here were a lot fitter and stronger than back
home.

I spent the morning sawing up logs and chopping them down for firewood
stopping around mid morning for more tea with a sandwich and by lunchtime I
was starving when she fed me a stew with more tea.

Living in this house really was like living in the dark ages with no
electricity, only kerosene lamps or candles which auntie made by
herself. To do this she bought blocks of beef fat from the butcher to
render down to make tallow then pour it carefully into brass tub containers
with the wicks she made herself, these were like a large night light and
one would burn all night providing light in my bedroom. If I had to go to
the toilet during the night, I would light the hurricane lamp placed by the
back door or use a chamber pot kept under the bed.

The local school was at the church hall which certainly was odd having
classes of children of all ages which is the norm for such a small
community when I was admitted after the first week here. It was the dreaded
homesickness which hit me hard like a thunderbolt and I spent nights crying
myself to sleep and put pen to paper writing my first letter home, three
months would pass before I received a reply having learned that our letters
went by ship.

Uncle taught me to drive the old Ford Model T after we both fitted it with
an Imbert wood gas generator which burnt wood to make the gas which ran the
engine; this was provided by the government who wanted petrol for
aeroplanes.

Auntie measured me up for a set of clothes, socks and shoes then placed an
order with John Moore's in Darwin using their latest catalogue which she
posted off to them with postal orders paying extra for a recorded
delivery. When the parcel arrived there was a pair of short trousers and
shirt for Sunday best, three pairs of Edward Fletcher (Stubbies) cotton
shorts, three pairs of shorts styled underpants, three pairs of knee high
socks and garters just like Boy Scouts wear, three vests, three working
men's shirts and a nice new pair of stout black hob nailed shoes for Sunday
best, the rest of my clothes which made up my wardrobe was in my suitcase,
so here ends my journal for the time being.

Seabrook, Victoria.

That last morning, everyone was up with the lark with Dylanne, Dylan,
Melvin and his mum having spent their last evening packing their suitcases
ready for the British Airways Boeing 747-400 series flight to London from
Melbourne's Tullamarine airport. Dylan really enjoyed his time here and he
wants to come back out again some day, probably during his gap year after
leaving school.

In a few days time I'll be flying back up to Darwin to connect with a
flight to Walkabout creek to finish off Old Mick's Indian and his journal
before I send it off to be published.

Melvin's mountain bike was already dismantled and packed for the journey
whilst their non important possessions were picked up in a taxi truck for
shipping to the UK. We wished them farewells with hugs and kisses for their
flight in the airport lounge over coffee and watched them check in. From
the viewing gallery we looked at the huge aircraft with faces staring back
and waving back to everyone stood there and watch the aircraft finally
depart until it was just a small dot in the sky. There was nothing left for
me now but to fly up to the top end, finish off his old Indian and finalize
his journal for publication.

Epilogue.

Melvin and his mum with Dylanne finally arrived at Ellen and Dylan's house
on an icy cold January day with frost on the ground and the surface of the
lane apart from some car and bicycle tracks finally entering her centrally
heated house which thanks to Vivian's daily check visits &c he ensured the
larder, fridge and freezer was well stocked, their beds made, the mail
placed neatly in a pile, clothes washed and dried ready for them and
Melvin's school uniform, sports/swimming kit and his school's cadets
uniform and outdoor activities kit all ready and waiting for him, after
light meals and coffees Melvin and Dylan snuggled up to their mums between
fresh nylon tricot bed sheets in their respective double beds and slept for
16 hours.

The following day Vivian drove Melvin with his mum to meet the school's
principal and formally introduce him to his year 11 form where he stood in
front of his form and gave a verbal introduction of himself looking forward
to being amongst them in a week's time.

During the weeks leading up to Easter, Melvin settled in well at school
proving himself to be a popular hard working student gaining his National
Pool lifeguard award during February half term and dong well as a cadet
whilst his mum worked with a security consultancy and she will be expecting
his child at the end of summer.

I returned in time for our first camp of the year during the spring bank
holiday weekend which was a real blast just like the old days and
thankfully Richard was back with us now fully recovered from his male to
female full hermaphrodite transformation making him a real stunner and not
having to live the rest of his life on anti rejection drugs with the
ability to bear children.

Old Mick's journal was finally published, firstly as a serial numbered
limited edition book run and the rest as an e-book. He received book number
one whilst the rest were sold at public auction, mainly to collectors and
museum libraries. He thanked me with all his heart for fixing up his old
Indian and rode it around his town and visiting neighbouring
properties. Sadly he passed away, all alone in a world he created for
himself since he was a boy never having returned to the UK leaving me as
the sole beneficiary in his will.

I was now faced with a house clearance and its sale later on in the year
which I arranged with John at Seabrook who arranged for the old Indian to
be trans-shipped to his weatherboard property at Kyneton whilst the rest of
the house clearance would be dealt with when I return after the end of
summer.

On reflection, I felt honoured to have met Old Mick's acquaintance who,
thankfully had his story told, he was from a time over 80 years ago and
with the passage of time a lot of memories from WW2 are unfortunately dying
off with their tellers to remain untold for all time, thankfully Old Mick's
isn't one of them.

Melvin and his mum certainly enjoyed their weekend on the island and they
are looking forward to more.

The end.