DC3 TALES
Back in my greasy-three days with some of the
Daks we wore round the traps . . rain-making . . .
fodder dropping when the floods came . . . . all
manner of perverse exploits .. . . ropeable berry
fruit farmers ready to murder the
cloud-seeder (just doing his job) after losing their entire
crops to hail.
. . . old hand (teeth cut on Ansons & Hudsons)
with Eanie Weanie
called Toby who demonstrated
out at 'The Lake' a short short fielder
to a newish chum in the R seat. Over the fence at 70 . .
. power right off . . .
... the mains contact . . . Tobe, his backside
sliding up the seat back goes hard on the anchors . .
hauling back back back
further to counteract the . . . . SH** OH DEAR!!! .. .
too much Tobe . .. . props plow up the field a bit
before tail drops back with a wham . .. . himself,
face like a plate of condemned veal taxies to the shed . .
bent blades sounding like a mini typhoon approaching
. .. . . . they didn't sack him . . . that time.
(or ever . . . just froze him out . . much later . . RIP Tobe)