Tuesday, January 22, 2008

BLOODY TORPEDOS & me dog PANCHO

PANCHO me DOG, an overview.

Pancho adopted me in early ’62. Bought a milk run in AVALON, northern beaches, Sydney.
Probably in the first week this black and brown cattle dog appeared out of the night, I didn’t pay to much attention to his frantically wagging tail and friendly manner. He paid particular attention to my VOLLEYS, he seemed over whelmed by the powerful pheromones’ which seemed to make his nose run. Pancho followed me through rain and wind for 2 years, he was not a fair weather sailor.

We had many memorable times together, (www.johnfarls.com), AVALON JOBS, him and me.

ME DOG PANCHO AND THE GHOSTS.

One miserable, rainy and windy night me dog and me are up the end of Avalon Parade. Pancho used to bark a bit, he was not a cat lover, unlike his adopted companion.
Turning to THAT dog, doesn't belong to me. Out of the crappy night quickly I can see a group of 6 people dressed in absolute black striding up the Parade, they are in line abreast, they appear to have bulky objects hanging of their person and Pancho is going berseque. My first reaction is where can I run, my second reaction is to race and grab his collar and await the stand off. These Ghosts approached, Pancho and me are in a state of panic, they are all young blokes and, now is this "The Russians Are coming?" Will Pancho and me be the first defenders of Australia. Things happened quickly, mainly because I have run out of anecdotes and verbs and stuff, "how ya going bloke we are on way to blow up the BLOODY TORPEDO BASE", and "we landed onto Avalon Beach from a Submarine, our mission is to subdue the base with no hostages". (“Can I keep a secret?” Of course, Pancho and me were soldiers of the night).

They did too, but not before a little chat on the gutter and a couple of bottles of cold milk.
Their plan was to plant ‘dummy’ explosives on the launching platform and gain entry to the Navy Torpedo Base. Pancho gave his best wishes, Pancho commented that the Alsatian guard dogs liked a lamb chop, the Commando's had some better stuff. We never saw the black ghosts again, but I can relate that a great deal of Commonwealth ‘traffic’ was observed at CLAREVILLE BEACH on this night.

This little epic can be corroborated, but it came from me first. I have waited many years under the secrecy act to relate me and Pancho's story.

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