|
|
|
 |
Geschichte |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Landeskunde |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Regionen |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Reise |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Impressionen |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Kultur |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
SchottlandCommunity |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Allgemein |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Newsletter |
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Sie möchten über Aktuali- |
|
sierungen informiert wer- |
|
den? Tragen Sie hier ihre |
|
Emailadresse ein. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Kultur Literatur & Dichtung |
[ zurück ] |
|
| The Great Peat Bank Robbery |
|
Auch dies Beispiel für die "Volksdichtung" des Radiomannes Gregor Lamb erhebt keinerlei künstlerischen Anspruch - außer dem, in möglichst unterhaltsamer Weise über ein aktuelles Ereignis zu berichten und es somit für die Nachwelt zu überliefern.
Der Inhalt ist schnell erzählt: Die "Visiting Bank" wurde überfallen (ein geradezu unglaublicher Vorgang für die Inselwelt der Orkney in den früher 1970er-Jahren), doch ein wackeres Dörflerehepaar (John und Maggo) überwältigen mitten im Moor die Gangster, noch bevor die Polizei an Ort und Stelle ist. Dabei hätten die beiden an diesem wunderschönen Tag viel Wichtigeres zu tun gehabt, waren sie doch in das Moorgebiet beim Chair of Lyde gezogen, um den häuslichen Torfvorrat zu ergänzen.
So unglaublich ist die Geschichte, dass ganz zum Schluss wie in mittelalterlichen Texten der wichtigste aller Zeitzeugen, die Königin selbst, wie auch die Art der Auszeichnung genannt wird: Die Verleihung der Verdienstmedaillie. Wenn ihr mir nicht glauben wollt, hier ist der Beweis für die Echtheit der Geschichte, lautet die Botschaft.
Die Moral von der Geschicht: Dummheit (Wie kann man nur auf unserer Insel eine Bank überfallen?) gehört nicht nur bestraft, Dummheit wird bestraft. Und das wird ganz ohne "Moralinsauer", dafür aber gewürzt mit einer kräftigen Portion Humor, all jenen mitgeteilt, die es (noch) nicht glauben wollen.
The Great Peat Bank Robbery
JOHN LOUTTIT lives in Corston
In a peedie hoose called Dale
And ah'll tayl yi' aal a story
Thit John telt me himsel.
Hid happened twa-three year ago
In nineteen seventy two
Tae be exact - the year
We lost wir milkan coo.
Weel John got up this morning
The twenty-first o' May
And peeped oot through the coorteens
Tae see the kind o' day.
Hid wiz a bonny morning -
A lovely bright blue sky
Wi' aal the lavros singan
And fine and dry forbye;
A grand day fur the paet hilI,
He didna hiv a doot
Thit wi' him apin the tusker
And Maggo takkan oot
They wid aisily hiv a chain cut
Be early efterneun
And wi twa-three days like this
The paets wid soon be deun.
John tuk oot his owld green van
And Maggo chumped inside,
Past the Lodge and Wern they gid
And soon wir in the Lyde.
Oot cam the fork and tusker
And ower the moss they strode -
They hidna far tae walk
Fur thir bank wiz near the road.
John bretted up his sark sleeves
And tried the tusker blade
Maggo steud aside him, sheu wiz playsed
The bank wiz flayed.
Hid wiz aafil seeknan wark,
The fayls wir thick and wide
Takkan oot wiz aalright wance
Sheu'd gotten in her stride.
"Weel Maggo, we'll git underwey,
Dae yi' ken hid's half past seven,
We'll wirk on at a steady pace
And brak aboot eleven."
John sank his tusker in the moss
And oot the first paet flew
Hid wizna very long afore
They hid a dainty roo.
Up and doon the tusker gid,
Yi' nivver saa such bonny paet
The only time they stopped
Wiz fur rubban aff the swaet.
Roond aboot eleven o'clock Maggo said,
"John, whit dae yi think
O' stoppan fur a meenit noo
We'll git wirsels a drink."
They both agreed, the tea wiz poored
And both wir sittan doon
John wiz lightan up bis pipe
And Maggo's lukkan roond -
Suddenly, a screech o' breks,
Hid wiz a peedie larry,
Same kind o' pick up thit
Hid pulled up in the quarry.
"My," said Maggo, "whar is that -
A peedie yellow truck,
That's an aafil speed tae come
Wi' cheust a gren o' bruk.
"Bi me certy lass, hid's no
A larry thit I ken
And if ah'm no mistaken lass,
Inside thir's twa-three men."
As they watched hid suddenly,
A roar came fae th' exhaust,
The truck hid turned oot queeckly
And sped most ferfil fast
Back oot intae the road again
Wi' engine revvan high
Pullan right across the road
So notheen could git by.
"My John whit is hid's
Happenan ower there?
Beuy I thing thir gangsters John,
Ah'm gittan kinda faerd."
"Oh dirt wi' thee lass - gangsters?
A howld up - hid's cheust pranks
Go and tayl them hid's cheust paets
No gold thit's in wir banks!"
Maggo didna laugh - sheu thowt
Hid aal wiz kinda strange
And sheu began tae winder whither
Sheu could be in range
O' an antran bullet should hid
Skeet across the hilI
Sheu crept ahint a heather cowe
Fur faer sheu wid be killed.
John sat puffan at his pipe
And sippan at his tea,
Calmly watchan, cheust as if
Hid wiz apin T.V.
A great commotion followed then,
The doors flung open wide,
Cairryan saan off shotguns,
Hooded men poored fae inside.
"Hid's gangsters! " shouted Maggo
And then sheu disappears
Doon intae a paet bank whar
Sheu covers up her ears.
"Luk up this meenit Maggo lass,
Noo I see thir plan
Fur coman doon the road I see
The Bank o' Scotland van."
The van comes on, twa shots ring oot
Then John sees hid brek,
"Oh, that's me feenished," Maggo says,
Littan oot a skrek.
John, he nivver hard a word,
Wi' tusker brandished high,
charges headlong ower the banks,
Feth he's no faerd tae die.
The gangsters whin they see him
Are fairly at a loss,
Thir no expectan this attack
Coman fae the moss.
They fire a shot at John
Bit he dooks hid like a snipe,
He wildly sweengs his tusker
And gaes the man a swipe -
A swipe thit sends him fleean
For more ur twenty pace
The gun goes in the air
And the man slumps on the gress.
John grabs the saan off shotgun
Rushes at anither,
And wi' the widden butt,
He knocks him in the heather.
John doesna see the third wan
Coman wi' a piece o' wid,
Creepan up ahint him
And cheust aboot tae sweeng hid.
Then, as if be magie,
Maggo comes up wi' her spade,
Sheu raises hid abune her
And whams him on the head.
In the middle o' this fighting,
The police siren soonds,
Both John and Maggo, tin aback,
Stop and luk aroond.
Thir's Albert Knight and Alex Wid
And Sergeant Molyneaux
Chumpan fae the police car
Thit's cheust come intae view.
"Mercy," Albert blurts, "we thowt
We'd find the bank fok dead
Whin we come, whit dae we find,
The gangsters dead instead.
We hid a radio message
Tae go up tae the Lyde
Andy Alsop hid gin ower
And said thit he hid spied
Bodies lyan ower the place
Like grey seals on the shore
"Aafil beuy" he said
He'd nivver seen the like afore.
I must say furtiverwey,
A fine clean chob yir made,
Kinda lucky min thit
Loganair gid owerhead."
Alex Wid, he turned tae John,
"Tayl me wan thing min,
I wid aafil like tae ken
Whar the bank fok's gin."
John lukked in the van then,
"Beuy, both wir sittan here."
"Ferly right," says Maggo,
"Me man he's no a leear."
Albert then gid roond the back
Tae knock apin the door
Fur he wiz certain thit he hard
Feetsteps on the floor.
"Oh yaas," he said, coman back,
"Thir's certainly folk in her
A notice on the back says,
'Closed cheust noo fur dinner'."
Weel ah'm sure if coorse yi' ken,
Thir's notheen they could do
Bank fok nivver budge
Atween the haars o' wan and two.
" Weel," says John, "we'll hae tae go,
We don't hiv time tae wist,
We hiv a bank tae feenish
Then back home tae the baest."
John and Maggo worked right hard
Tae git the cutting don,
Hid wiz early evening then
Afore they headed home.
****
Noo yi'll no believe this
Bit hid really is the truth,
Aboot the neuar-time
John and Maggo both gid sooth,
The raison thit they gid
Wiz they hid tae see the Queen,
John and Maggo fairly smiled
As apin them both sheu preened
Medals fur distinguished conduct -
Yaas, the George Cross,
Fur supreme self-sacrifice
Apin the Harray moss.
I winder whar wid ever thowt
Thit they wid lived tae seen
The paet hilI tak twa Corston fok
Aff tae see the Queen.
(tsp/ws)
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Suche |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
News |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Wetter |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Werbung
Werbung
Werbung
|