When I was a lad, a summers day was the excuse for mums to chase the kids out of the house, not like nowadays where parents are mostly terrified of losing sight of the precious offspring. In fact , my mum looked positively disappointed when I turned up after dark, looking for food.
In those days, we were in gangs. every street had its own gang and we used to fight with the other streets. The fighting was mostly 'raids' (chucking bricks and stones at each other) although it sometime came to hand to hand combat. Our gang used to run from that, because although we were ace chuckers, we didnt have a big hard-man.
Dont imagine that our gang operated in 2D. Well, we did at first, until we learned how to get onto the school roof. from then on, we were masters of the universe.
We built dens up there, stockpiled ammo, in the form of half-cobbles, set up a lookout system and we were invincible. The other gangs couldnt come near, because they couldnt chuck up that high, whilst our missiles , helped by gravity, had range and power.
The police came round one day and shouted at us to come down, but they couldnt get through the railings, never mind get onto the roof, so we ignored them.
We even had an escape route. On the opposite end to the climby up point was a drainpipe. If the enemy got a foothold on the roof, we would shimmy down the drainpipe. It was only 40 feet, and we were all experts at shimmying up and down drainpipes, flagpoles. Anything really.
In fact, we were so confident, we never tested it. And that was our big mistake
One glorious summers day, about fifteen of us were lounging about on the roof in the sunshine when the alarm went up. It was the LC boys. They were storming the roof, led by Pongo. He was a dusky skinned fellow and was as wild as anything. A real tough guy, and he meant business.
He got up onto the roof, despite a few good hits with bricks and he started to pull his mates up. We had seconds to escape . We ran to the far end of the roof, started pelting the enemy while the smallest got onto the drainpipe. Kenny. We all felt sorry for him, because a few weeks earlier, he had been the one who got caught upside down on the railings with a spike up the side of his welly. The bastids used him for target practice till he was black and blue.
He started down the drainpipe, then a few more got on it. we were going to make it !!
Then there was a scream, and kenny shot down the pipe at a million miles an hour and hit flower bed with a sickening crunch.
What we didnt know was that the caretaker had been worried about burglaries at the school.
He heavily greased the drainpipe starting from about ten feet above the ground, and only on the back so the burglars wouldnt see it. They would slip and break their burgling necks.
Except it wasnt a burglar who copped it, it was kenny
We all panicked and scattered. some climbed down the window frames, got half way and 'dropped'. Some, like me, ran the gauntlet and got a bit of a battering. some surrendered and got a kicking.
When I limped home that night, me mum collared me. 'Kenny B is in the hospital again. twisted knee and a broken ankle. Do you know anything about it ?'
'Sounds like the little gets tarred and feathered him as well'
I kept me gob shut, and beat a hasty.
In those days, we were in gangs. every street had its own gang and we used to fight with the other streets. The fighting was mostly 'raids' (chucking bricks and stones at each other) although it sometime came to hand to hand combat. Our gang used to run from that, because although we were ace chuckers, we didnt have a big hard-man.
Dont imagine that our gang operated in 2D. Well, we did at first, until we learned how to get onto the school roof. from then on, we were masters of the universe.
We built dens up there, stockpiled ammo, in the form of half-cobbles, set up a lookout system and we were invincible. The other gangs couldnt come near, because they couldnt chuck up that high, whilst our missiles , helped by gravity, had range and power.
The police came round one day and shouted at us to come down, but they couldnt get through the railings, never mind get onto the roof, so we ignored them.
We even had an escape route. On the opposite end to the climby up point was a drainpipe. If the enemy got a foothold on the roof, we would shimmy down the drainpipe. It was only 40 feet, and we were all experts at shimmying up and down drainpipes, flagpoles. Anything really.
In fact, we were so confident, we never tested it. And that was our big mistake
One glorious summers day, about fifteen of us were lounging about on the roof in the sunshine when the alarm went up. It was the LC boys. They were storming the roof, led by Pongo. He was a dusky skinned fellow and was as wild as anything. A real tough guy, and he meant business.
He got up onto the roof, despite a few good hits with bricks and he started to pull his mates up. We had seconds to escape . We ran to the far end of the roof, started pelting the enemy while the smallest got onto the drainpipe. Kenny. We all felt sorry for him, because a few weeks earlier, he had been the one who got caught upside down on the railings with a spike up the side of his welly. The bastids used him for target practice till he was black and blue.
He started down the drainpipe, then a few more got on it. we were going to make it !!
Then there was a scream, and kenny shot down the pipe at a million miles an hour and hit flower bed with a sickening crunch.
What we didnt know was that the caretaker had been worried about burglaries at the school.
He heavily greased the drainpipe starting from about ten feet above the ground, and only on the back so the burglars wouldnt see it. They would slip and break their burgling necks.
Except it wasnt a burglar who copped it, it was kenny
We all panicked and scattered. some climbed down the window frames, got half way and 'dropped'. Some, like me, ran the gauntlet and got a bit of a battering. some surrendered and got a kicking.
When I limped home that night, me mum collared me. 'Kenny B is in the hospital again. twisted knee and a broken ankle. Do you know anything about it ?'
'Sounds like the little gets tarred and feathered him as well'
I kept me gob shut, and beat a hasty.
them was the days.....
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