I Know I Said No More Vikings -

And That "Jock Columns" Were Latterly Ineffective -
But you know me, able to turn on a sixpence and change processes, procedures, my mind and the colour of the curtains at a moment's notice.
     So!  Let us travel back in time to the border between the ancient Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex, circa 879 AD.  Art?

1/150th of the hoard

     Experts believe that a hoard of over 300 coins was buried at Eye, Herefordshire, by a Viking in or about 879 AD - though how they work out it was a Viking is anyone's guess.  It was possibly ill-gotten gains he was hiding to go back to later.
     Anyway, thanks to our Viking chum, who didn't get to retrieve his loot, a couple of metal-detector wielding scummoes got their hands on the hoard, which they promptly sold to a couple of dealers.

Bad detectorists!  Naughty detectorists!

          The thing that makes archaeologists and historians grind their teeth in Frothing Sulphuric Rage, is that these coins shed light on an historical alliance between the crowns of Mercia and Wessex that nobody even suspected existed.  Only 30 coins of the 300 have been recovered, and since their sale was highly illegal, it's unlikely any of the purchasers will either confess or come forward.

Treasure trove

     You see, under the 1996 Treasure Act, anything that's treasure automatically belongs to the Crown, so there.  You have to surrender it up, which our criminal chavs above had no intention of doing.
     So, we maintain a liking for our Viking, but the detectorists are ignorant gits.
     Ah, motley, I see you're up and about again.  Cup of Darjeeling?

"Travelers"
Having seen off the first season of "Daybreak" - which appears to be far lighter in tone than the comic book, where Josh has lost an arm and dwells in a hovel - Your Humble Scribe was looking to continue with another series, which means scrolling past the long lists of same on Netflix.  I have learned not to trust their rating system, which frankly sucks like an atomic-powered Dyson.  No, I get the titles written down and then do a bit of research on teh interwebz to see what's what.
    Thus the series above.  Art?

Here they are, having travelled

     The premise has echoes of "Odyssey 5", which sadly never got beyond the first season - did it?  Hang on <checks internet> sadly no <makes sad face>.
     That premise?  The dystopian depopulated Earth of a couple of hundred years hence is trying to prevent the complete collapse of civilisation and the expiry of Hom. Sap.  To do so it send the consciousness of agents back in time, to occupy a "host" body seconds before said host would have died.  These 'Travelers" then undertake missions to (hopefully) ensure Hom. Sap's Survival.
     Interesting premise!  It means that, so far, there's no need to create elaborate futuristic sets and props, since everything is contemporary.  We shall see if, after a successful first season, they up the budget and tackle how the future looks.

Possibly the future
(Or not)

If You Go Down To The Woods Today -
You would have encountered Conrad taking Edna for a walk.  This was her Longer Walk, and in a slightly less creepy part of Tandle Hill Park.  Still deserted, but not quite as eerily empty, as I'd seen people walking around the Park with their dogs.  Art?

     Here a word of caution was needed, for the furry scamp decided to investigate that hole in the tree trunk.  Fortunately my sneer of cold command was enough to deter her*.  Oh, one thing you don't get from that picture is how damnably cold it was, with a knife-laden wind blowing non-stop and freezing any exposed skin.
     At this point a third party intervened: Conrad's bowels.

CONRAD'S BOWELS: We need to be free!
CONRAD: Oh Dog Buns.  Can't you wait?
CONRAD'S BOWELS: Free!  Or, freed.
CONRAD: It's a fifteen minute walk back home!
CONRAD'S BOWELS: We're not shifting on the "Free!" thing
CONRAD <snappishly>: Come on Edna, no dawdling
CONRAD'S BOWELS: We shall remind you of our desire intermittently.

     Fortunately my pace was rapid enough to avoid any accidents.  Phew!  Sorry about the rapid route march home, Edna.
     
Back To Jock
I am currently reading "From Gazala To Tunis" by Phillip Harding (amongst another three books), which is about the 2nd Battalion The Rifle Brigade in North Africa.  The 2RB was part of the 7th Motor Brigade, and when the Battle of Gazala broke out, it helped to form one of several "Jock Columns".  I've mentioned these improvised forces several times already, so here's an actual ToE for them:

"July Column"
"F" Battery Royal Horse Artillery (from 4 to 6 x 25-pounder guns)
1 Troop 4th Royal Horse Artillery (from 4 to 6 x 2-pounder anti-tank guns)
1 Troop 43rd Light Anti-Aircraft Battery (4 x 40mm Bofors guns)
"B" Company, 2nd Rifle Brigade (120 - 150 men)
Royal Engineers detachment

     The RE were there to lay or lift mines.  The 25-pounder could, in a pinch, be used as an anti-tank gun, greatly to the discomfiture of any Axis vehicle it hit, as nothing the Axis had at the time would stand up to that kind of kinetic punch.  The Bofors would on occasion be used against ground targets, though not often, as they guzzled ammunition at a very rapid pace.  It's not mentioned, because it would have been obvious to anyone at the time, but the infantry would all have been motorised, in trucks and Universal Carriers.

A Carrier in Caunter camo

     I think we'll pick this theme up tomorrow, now that the scene has been established.

Finally -
You know, what with being off for a while, Your Humble Scribe has rather out of the flow of things work-based; no access to HCM means not realising that my electronic payslip has arrived, because if I guess correctly, tomorrow is Pay Day.  The money tends not to arrive immediately the previous day rolls past, at midnight-plus one, but later in the small hours.  So, tomorrow's Dog Alarm Clock may serve another purpose; checking I have actually been paid.  I like my job, but not enough to do it for free.

Wahoo

*  I stole that bit about sneering from "Ozymandias".