the missing coventry

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Re: the missing coventry

Postby Blitzkid » Thu Jun 30, 2022 1:49 pm

Yes, there were loads of ex-soldiers that could plan and execute such, (Frank Sinatra in Oceans 11) showed how.

A Coventry lad, friend of a friend, of a friend I knew had a trolley/kiosk on Victoria Station, he had been chased out of Coventry by police, while I was talking to him, gave a foreign woman change to a five pound note when she had given ten pound note, he did it a second time and I made it plain to the woman, and he went livid at me. but there was no way he would take me on.
But the London police catching up with him, (he was gay) so to escape he joined the French Foreign Legion, it only took them a few weeks to see his ways, they dumped him on the British Embassy steps in a town in Morocco, a pair of shorts, passport, and that was it. The Embassy brought him home to a jail, but I did see him a few times back in Coventry after that.
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Re: the missing coventry

Postby rebbonk » Thu Jun 30, 2022 2:07 pm

:thumbsup:
Of course it'll fit; you just need a bigger hammer.
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Re: the missing coventry

Postby Blitzkid » Thu Jan 19, 2023 2:14 pm

Pre-war Coventry was a beautiful city of gaiety and warmth, the old fair grounds still operated on Hearsal Common, there were crock fairs meat fairs, and loads of book sellers, that told the stories of Coventry, merry-go-rounds-boxing booths, book stalls a plenty. Local farmers ran horse traps of people to the tram stops,then ran them back home in the evenings, packed with neighbours in festive mood, the hurdy-gurdy man, the one man band, the coconut shy, there was so much for the few coppers we had saved, tired and exhausted we would fall asleep to the rhythm of the horses hooves as the farmer took us home just fell into bed at night. and life was at a horses gait next day.

There was a boy who lived a few doors away from me that was really backward, and every one in the village called him Yampy, even his own Mother called him yamp, a young student teacher took us on a nature walk, she called Dennis how many sheep in that field, Yamp took a look, turned I can't tell ye that he said, the teacher stamped a foot, Dennis take another look after some minutes said the same, can't tell yer they both keep running aba't. Dennis was walking down the road, hands apart, out in front of him, he saw us, said don't stop me now, my dads painting his shed door, this size the size of the door I ave to get paint for, he strode on and one of the boys called 'Yamp' clap your hands, he did, then fell about crying, so we all went a bought a tin of paint for him.

About twenty years later I was walking through the Ascot crowds when a voice hailed me, I knew that voice, turned and here was in a beautiful suit a large topper, and binoculars slung over his shoulder, so large. He said in stern voice, 'Yeh' it's me, the guys who called me Yamp, look at me now, daunt work, dolled up to the nines, whilst you slave away, Yeh I married an hairdresser with a string of Shops and with that he then strode away, into the crowd. I saw him a few times at the races, but he never spoke to me again.
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