"They say that war is 90% waiting around and 10% frantic action. Or is it 95% and 5%:  I  can't remember but Palestine was something like that for members of the Police in 1947  


At Mount Scopus we spent endless hours playing cards to pass the time away or acting the fool until we were turned out for some duty or other. I have a photograph somewhere of myself pretending to attack one Eric Milner, another British Constable, with a cardboard dagger. I had nothing against Eric. In fact we were good friends but another British Constable, Tony  Barber, who happened to be passing by, captured my mock attack on camera for posterity.

Stabbing game

Someone had a white bull terrier as a pet and he, the terrier and not the owner, had a pink  nose.  I've forgotten the dog's name. In fact, I seem to remember that he had a number of different names depending upon one's mood and who the dog was with at the time, but we all thought that he was "bomb happy" because of some of the things he did and of course we all spoiled him although we sometimes took advantage of his good nature.

One sunny afternoon he was peacefully dosing away in the sun, probably getting sunburnt, and some wag got a tin of black paint and painted a black ring around one of his eyes.  This was followed up with a black spiral down his tail and the dog happily slept on.

Then a cat walked past him and being a cat the noise wouldn't have awakened the dog but possibly the scent of the cat did. The peaceful and quietly sleeping animal turned in seconds into a raving maniac.

The cat quite naturally took to its heels and ran across the square into the open doorway of the Tegart building pursued by a frantically barking bull terrier.

The cat, having entered the Tegart, ran up some stairs and along the corridor until it came to an open doorway and running for it's life, it entered a room.

The bull terrier skidded around a corner and saw the cat enter the room so chased after it intent on mayhem and murder.

In the room the cat saw an open window, leaped on to a table, then on to the window-sill and made a giant leap from the window-sill on to the top of a parked vehicle.

I had always remembered the cat as leaping on to a wall but there was no wall adjacent to the Tegart at Scopus that I can recall so it must have been a vehicle that the cat jumped upon.

The maniacal dog witnessed this and without hesitation leaped on to the window-sill and launched itself out into space without a thought as to where it was going, intent only upon it's quarry.

I have often wondered what went through its mind in doggy language ("O my God" or "Bloody Hell"?) when it found itself many feet above the ground and nowhere to go except down. Which it did.

It hit the ground with a great thud, staggered to its feet and lurched off to find somewhere else to snooze in the sun, all thoughts of the cat having been knocked out of its mind or what there was of it.

The cat just looked on, with a Cheshire cat smile on its face."

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