Although I cheated a bit and, since it's an acronym, there ought to be full stops in there as well. "P.I.A.T." There. Happy now?
PIAT sounds as if it's Latin, as in some droning acapella hymn,
Like Liverpool Cathedral tonight, as they do not play the organ on Wednesdays |
PIAT, Brought Up, One Of |
It doesn't come out of nowhere, I assure you. There I was, watching "Archer" and the episode "Bloody Ferlin" - and I have to caution you that this series is most definitely NOT for the young or easily shocked - and there's Ray breaking into the ISIS arsenal. That's "International Secret Intelligence Services", just for your information.
To the left |
Anyway, at chest level to Ray is the unmistakable maw of a PIAT. Art?
Proof |
To fire one - oh, you didn't think you were going to get away that lightly with a couple of pictures, did you? - to fire one you compressed a giant spring, placed a bomb in the spigot tray and fired. The backblast then re-cocked the spring - usually - and you were good to go again. It had a range of about 50 yards and unless you were inside a main battle tank when one of the bombs hit, you were in for a bad day; frequently you were in for a bad day even if inside a main battle tank. One PIAT peculiarity is that they gave off very little flash or smoke, so it was very difficult for the opposition to see where the fire was coming from. I have read of a German assault-gun being fired on 16 times by a PIAT team, who managed neither to hit or destroy it, yet the hapless Teutons couldn't find out where they were being bombarded from and retreated. Points win for Brits.
Usually - and if not ... |
This time I am banging on about the novel, which I got last Friday and have just finished. It's bound to be on display in your nearest reputable bookshop, and perhaps also in a few disreputable ones.
There is a significant presence in the novel which is omitted from the film: "Junkers". No, not the militant Prussian aristocracy (some of whom might have been on the receiving end of a PIAT bomb or two), but rather a tranche of society named after junk.
Like this, except with less sun and Australian accent |
Redundancy
Conrad has been walking up and down Tandle Hill Road for decades. This is not in the service of stalking anyone, it's merely that this is the route to and from Tandle Hill Park, most usually encountered whilst allowing Edna to stretch her legs. For ages there was an old brick letterbox about half way down, which had been recently vandalised.
They must have been very determined vandals, as they'd managed to knock the stone mounting completely off the letterbox.
So, the Post Office replaced it, with a modern metal pedestal-mounted letterbox.
Et voila |
Finally
Only one photograph of Edna outdoors, this on her first trot down Tandle Hill Road.
She is now whimpering because, rather than pay her unlimited attention, I am crafting words at my computer, which in her world counts as Beyond Wicked Neglect.
Chin chin!
* This sounds like a lot but in film-making it's not
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