remain in the compound as condemned fuel. There was so much of the stuff
that each hut in each village for miles around had cooking and lighting
guaranteed for the duration. Not only that, out going choppers returning to base
would take the sick and infirm to hospital in Salisbury. Such was Phokion’s
war. A good one. But it all got a bit much as tours of duty were extended and
extended to the point he only saw his beloved family one day in each month.
Stuff that. As British subjects, the Phokions took the chicken run south. And
south to university.
There he taught first year drawing and painting and supplemented his pay by
transcribing readings from the university’s seismograph, the biggest in the
southern hemisphere. On one crucial day when the world awaited its readings
with baited breath, Phokion had decided to give the machine a good clean. So
none of us really knows whether or not South Africa had the bomb, which, it
was rumoured, had been successfully tested in Antarctic waters due south of
Capetown.
