CHAPTER 3
I left my mother’s house the next morning for the University, wearing my Dennis the Menace (the real and original UK one) cycle shirt, the one I am told gives me a dangerous, devil-may-care, appearance.

CHAPTER 9
What to say to that one? I stared at Sally, and she just smiled gently.

CHAPTER 8
Dr Whittaker was a lucky find, the first piece of real luck I can remember having since Stewie and I survived that shithole down South.

CHAPTER 6
I had a few years of fun, after that. I was really lucky, we were lucky, never to do a tour in Ulster, but Stewie and I got to see Hong Kong a couple of times before it was given to the Chinese, and we had more than a few joint exercises with the Dutch Marines, and more than a few fights, and much, much more than a few beers.

CHAPTER 4
I knew it was going to be a long walk as soon as I heard about the Conveyor. We had helicopters, but nowhere near enough to move all of us, and we were the poor sods sent out on Shanks’s.

I have taken a number of small liberties with history here, this being fiction after all. I apologise if any of the real folk who were involved in this feel I have wronged them in any way. This tale is offered in the deepest respect. And of course I affirm copyright, 2010, in both my real name as held by the site operators and the name Cyclist.

UNIFORMS.

Not even first light. The chop was making my teeth rattle as the blunt bow slammed into each wave the LCU met, and a couple of the lads were already being sick. The bergen weighed far too much, but I’d managed to snaffle a Mao suit and, much to my surprise, managed to squeeze it in. We were in the second wave, and as we had heard nothing from the shore so far it looked as if we were going to be unopposed. Thank fuck my new boots had come. Too many of the lads were still in ammo boots, but I had done more than enough on Dartmoor in mine to know exactly how bad they were.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 54

It was finally over, the women getting three years each for the conspiracy and the Marines declining to press charges for the assault, although their assailants did get a few hundred hours Community Service for affray.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 52

EXTREMELY UNPLEASANT MATERIAL BELOW.
I was not required as a witness, as my “evidence” was simply the initial recognition of Alfie Smith’s face. Naomi, however, was called, and when the day of the trial came up we made a party of five for the trip up to Croydon Crown Court, us, Naomi and Albert, and Sally.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 50

And so a car park and a recreation ground filled with dancing couples, couples of all sorts and shapes.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 49

We went straight to the police station. This was the sort of thing where clothes would get disposed of, if we didn’t act quickly, and unless Smith and his friends were even stupider than we thought they would have heard the news.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 47

Geoff was off to work early on Wednesday morning, after our trip back from the festival.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 44

Thursday night and we were off. Driving past London on a Bank Holiday Friday is not my idea of fun, so Geoff and I were meeting up with the rest of the clan at Oxford before spending the Thursday night in a motel near Telford.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 41

This was it, the moment I had dreaded. Her hand stayed where it was for far too long, and she glared at me with what seemed like real hatred.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 39

And then we were there, with hundreds of other cyclists, going through the rigmarole of registering riders and support vehicles.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 37

I have already said more than once that real life is not like a film, dramas don’t happen every five minutes and there aren’t plot devices to unravel. Real life also doesn’t stop with a “and they all lived….” like a fairytale. It just carries on from day to day, and it is no less valuable for that.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 36

This is the last one for a few days. I am off to dance and play and drink ALE.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 34

And Sue was indeed stocious, as a rat. We had formed up in one of the Crawley bars that sold more bottles of coloured liquid than real ale, the sort of drink known as “tart fuel”, and that was exactly what it was like.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 32

The Friday was spent on the Horseshoe, that classic circuit of Yr Wyddfa that takes in Crib Goch, Y Garnedd Ugain, the top of “Snowdon”, and Y Lliwedd before returning to the Pen y Pass car park.