Man With The Golden Lens.

Its me again the man with the Golden Lens, once I carried a Bow and Arrow round the woods in Cheadle with my war paint on after seeing the Lone Ranger on his White 🐎. The trees were my shelter from the Bullets. My tree that was easy to climb, little skinny legs covered in Scratches no pain as a child.

I look down as the enemy passes underneath me, I reach for an arrow draw back my Bow and one is hit, they see me and bullets hit me all over as I call out you got me and fall.

The childhood adventure will be played with my children and their children a simple no cost game, a fantasy that hurts no-one.

The Woods change to Pirbright Surrey two small children are the enemy they have Bows and Arrows just like me, I hide from them as they look for me with Month our Golden Labrador. They little eyes looking in excitement for their dad, Monty nows my tricks in intelligent Water Dog once called for pulling in fishing nets in for the fisherman in Labrador Canada. Original name Saint John’s Water Dog.

There you are Dad, I laugh and climb down, hide again Dad ok count to 10. Long legs running I hide in the green fern bushes, many more games will be played, countless hours of laughing games family bonding that will stay with them for there children to play.

I show them how to make a simple lean to from branches using ivy as rope for fixing. Sap from the bark of the tree as a Fire πŸ”₯ lighter. Build a fire pit dug out with sticks rocks around the base to hold the heat as they warm up from the heat of the flames.

We have Beans cooked on a open wood fire, we laugh, the child in me is sat next to me again, well done Ron teach them well it will stay with them for life.

Precious childhood of innocent family fun does not last long and before you know it, its to late its gone. Stick races hide and seek, make a spear, who can show it furthest. Throwing Arrows, making numerous objects from the young Willow Bush, a bracelet or a birds nest.

Show them the Bull Rush like Cigars rising from the lake or pond, show them how to rub it together firming a Down to put inside a bag and make a pillow to sleep on, taught to me by SAS in Bevaria.

Bird songs and the Blackbird, Robin, Blue Tit the Birds that give so much enjoyment costing nothing, introduce them to the the wonderful world on their doorstep.

The Spear and Bow turned to a Riffle later in life, BSA 1.77 was my weapon, I was now James Bond, or Clint Eastwood leaning out of my window taking pot shots at my mates as they left the house scattering across the streets taking cover.

I could hit anything with this lovely rifle.

To my military days where I would carry many weapons that could kill. From the SLR which I nicknamed the Elephant Gun as it Broke your shoulder if you did not hold it properly, but was effective up to 1000 metres using the 7.62 bullet.

The Sub Machine Gun was very interesting and you had to strip in down in the dark and assemble it again. It held 30 rounds of 9mm same as the Browning Pistol.

The 9mm Browning Pistol held 13 rounds as was my go to weapon when in civi’s in Northern Ireland, tucked down the front of your jeans.

Machine guns were fun but a bitch to carry, the GPMG was so heavy when you carried it it had a belt of 200 7.62 rounds a mixture of live and tracer rounds. It weighed a ton and you had to run with it.

Then there was the LMG with a magazine of 30 7.62 rounds a bit easier to carry.

I used a few other guns.

I think my camera panning skills come from years of using the rifle, giving me skills and reactions to capture birds in flight.