Communicating with God: One Person at a Time (Chapter 8, page 2 of 8)


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Chapter 8

Meanwhile, the Diocese was split and I managed to give away four villages on the border; including Molesworth American base which had first been a military prison, then a centre for the sale of surplus stores and, by then, the home of a special force of fighter bombers with a secret compound where, it was rumoured, some unmentionable weapons were being kept. I was introduced - through a stout wire fence - to a pack of most vicious guard dogs that spent their life protecting this compound and the American military policeman who was a parishioner assured me that if he was ever called upon to do some serious work then a catastrophe of some sort would already have happened. I did not ask for further details especially when both he and I fell into disgrace with his charming Liverpudlian wife. After the tour of the base we had a drink in the mess, he had several more than was really wise and on the way back he drove over and injured a pheasant. To save it further suffering I suggested we ought to kill it in the obvious way of driving over the writhing body. The softy refused to do this and when I did the mercy killing with a large spanner he vomited spectacularly. I took the body with me to be presented to my mother for conversion into a tasty lunch. Our strong policeman eventually got home, told his story to his wife and then fell going upstairs to bed. She was genuinely shocked not just at a priest killing a pheasant but also that I could have led her innocent husband - a macho military cop - astray to such an extent that he was so inebriated as to fall up - not down - the stairs.

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