As I carefully folded back the neatly cut turf, it was as if I had opened up a portal to the Bronze Age...
I do not know exactly what happened that night. One person on their own might have imagined it, but when two people simultaneously witness the same event there has to be something to it...
It was the last thing that I expected to see in the Shropshire countryside. It was futile to try and run, as I was no match for the power and agility of the animal that stood before me...
Buckingham's eyes fixed upon the old man like a hawk after its prey: "May a curse be upon thee for thy treachery," he snarled....
Poor old Mrs Brown's house took a direct hit. I laughed as her wooden leg came flying over the rooftops, clattering as it bounced off the rusty corrugated roof of our toilet at the bottom of the garden...
A rather large. well-endowed lady appeared in the doorway. Why I suddenly thought about Zeppelins I can't imagine...
John had not believed me when I told him that a Mr Crapper had invented the flush toilet, so it came as no surprise that he would not believe the origin of Zippo lighters...
Portal to The Bronze Age
In 30 years of metal detecting nothing has given me greater pleasure than a find I made in 1996. It was near to an area where several prehistoric trackways met, which had probably made it a sacred site for ancient man.
I had made contact with the owner of the land a few months earlier, and was delighted when he agreed to let us search.
John and I often talked about it but never got round to going there, as it was a fair distance from our homes. Indeed, we often moaned about having to return home to our spouses on a Saturday night, necessitating a return to a good site the following day.
Deciding to give it a go, we convinced our wives that it would be a good idea to see the back of us for a couple of days. On the Friday night we duly loaded up the car with some camping equipment and eagerly set off to search this new site.
Setting up Home
I knew I should have gone with John when he bought the 'tent' as it made Buckingham Palace look like a mainsonette.
Well over an hour later, as darkness descended, we had managed to erect a structure that vaguely resembled a large tent. It seemed quite homely though after the airbeds and cooking equipment (and car) were placed inside.
The swinging porch lantern cast dancing shadows on the fabric of our temporary home, as croaking pheasants serenaded the passing of day.
After consuming a hot drink, I zipped up the entrance and we bedded down for the night in our own compartments.
"Ging gang, goolie goolie goolie watcha, ging gang goo, ging gang goo. Ging..."
"Shut up, Col, I want to go to sleep."
"Sorry mate."
The Inaugural Search
It was 5.30am, and I lay there listening to the dawn chorus. The sheer volume of madrigals was incredible. I unzipped the porch and stepped outside the tent.
Accompanied by a crescendo of sound I took our plastic water container and trudged across the field to the farm outbuildings where I was able to fill it. The smell of bacon wafted across the field as I struggled back fully ladened.
"Morning Col."
"Morning John. Did you sleep well?"
"Sound mate."
He had been cooking up a right storm while I was fetching the water: eggs, bacon, sausage, tomatoes, the full Monty. The meal would certainly set us up for a good day's detecting, and it was wonderful watching the golden hue of sunrise as we ate.
With utensils washed and stored, we strapped several pieces of equipment to our belts, checked the batteries in our detectors and set off.
I had never seen such a large L-shaped pasture field before, and it would be several hours before John and I met up again. Although I was getting frequent signals, it was only dross that I was digging up: shotgun cartridges, pieces of lead etc.
I had such high hopes for this site, and it was proving to be a disappointed.
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