45 pages
English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Kid Soldiers: Toy Guns and Victory , livre ebook

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris
Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus
45 pages
English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

Description

Kid Soldiers is about a boy called Clive Flynn, aged 10. He spends most of his childhood in an army environment, where he lives with his twin sister, Cassey Flynn, his mum (housewife) and his dad, who is serving in the British Army. Clive, often in the book, forgets some simple rules and has to learn when to keep his mouth shut or pay the price! He has an obsession with army stuff, from playing with toy soldiers, to actually playing real-life armies with his friends using toy guns and imaginary hand grenades in the form of pinecones that are found in the woods. This book has its funny side, plenty of family dramas and everyday life stuff. So get ready for adventures and real dramas, sit back and let the fun begin!

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 29 novembre 2019
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781528908122
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Kid Soldiers: Toy Guns and Victory
Peter Riley
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-11-29
Kid Soldiers: Toy Guns and Victory About the Author About the book Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter 1 Intro Chapter 2 The Trial! Chapter 3 The Punishment Begins Chapter 4 Mother Hen’s SHED Meeting Chapter 5 For Guns and Victory! Chapter 6 I Love Mondays Chapter 7 “Soldier Down” Chapter 8 Weapons of Destruction! Chapter 9 Tanks a Million
About the Author
My name is Peter Riley, aged 39. My dad was in the British Army and served for a long time. For most of my childhood, I grew up in a military environment and schools. I lived with my dad, mam (housewife) and my sister, who is two years younger than me. We moved around a lot and as such, I had the privilege of living in Germany and many places around the UK whilst my dad was serving. A family member asked me not so long ago what my childhood was like and I told them about the things I got up to, the adventures I had, to building and making dens (bases), making bows and arrows, you know, the things that kids did, before modern technology of mobile phones, advanced computers, etc. Now this got me thinking, I should write about them and now that I’m a lot older, I should re-live my childhood memories and the adventures I had with my friends, and to let others enjoy my memories while mentioning the not-so-good parts and make for interesting reading.
About the book
Kid Soldiers is about a boy called Clive Flynn, aged 10. He spends most of his childhood in an army environment, where he lives with his twin sister, Cassey Flynn, his mum (housewife) and his dad, who is serving in the British Army. Clive, often in the book, forgets some simple rules and has to learn when to keep his mouth shut or pay the price! He has an obsession with army stuff, from playing with toy soldiers, to actually playing real-life armies with his friends using toy guns and imaginary hand grenades in the form of pinecones that are found in the woods. This book has its funny side, plenty of family dramas and everyday life stuff. So get ready for adventures and real dramas, sit back and let the fun begin!
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to all the Army Brats around the world.
Keep having adventures!
Copyright Information ©
Peter Riley (2019)
The right of Peter Riley to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528908122 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter 1

Intro
My name is Clive Flynn. I was born in a military hospital, in Germany (personal information is confidential), and so if I told you, then I’d have to kill you! But then, who would buy and read my book! So it’s best to move on…
I was just a regular kid, aged ten, in the 80’s. It was a glorious, Sunday morning. The time was 07:30 and my mum had just entered my room to wake me up, like she did every morning. She drew my curtains, picked up a few of my toys off the floor and threw them at me… pfft, typical! One day, I will learn to put them away. Anyhow, she was full of beans that day; probably because my old man was due home from being on military exercise, or as my mum said, ‘playing silly buggers’. (He was in the army: infantry. In fact, he did 22 years before leaving the army to be precise. A bit of useful information.) She was very excited. So excited, that she told me to get my lazy butt out of bed, ASAP. Huh! Since when did I take orders from her? Pfft. So, I decided to get my young, still developing, lazy bones out of bed. Not that my mum had anything to do with it. Since my dad was not here, I was now, the alpha-male of the house.
I raised my self out of bed, placed in my feet my pride and joy, the one and only, Action-Man slippers, (remember people, this was before Ben-10 and Co, and no funny comments, like during the war, blah, blah, blah) and proceeded to put on my dressing gown, which was army camouflaged. And yes, you may or may not have guessed it by now, in that sentence, that I was obsessed with military things: from toys, clothes to memorabilia.
At 07:50 to be precise, my mum shouted up the stairs at me.
“Clive, do you want any breakfast?”
“Yes, Mum, of course I do!” I thought to myself, what a silly question.
“Then get up, get dressed and get your butt down here, pronto!” shouted my mum.
“Yes, MUM!”
“What do you want, Honey Loops or Lucky Charms?” she asked.
Hmm, maybe we should edit that bit. Makes me sound like a fairy!
Anyways, I replied, “Mum, I want soft boiled eggs with soldiers, please,” to which, I was rudely told by my new-adopted mum, what I decided at that point, to be short-lived.
“NO! Your options are either Loops or Charms, boy, and don’t pull faces. I can see round corners!”
I was guttered; I mean, how can women see round corners or know which finger you’re waving at them from a different room or a floor level, ceases to amaze me, even today, as I’m writing this story.
Anyhow, I replied in a sarcastic tone, “Honey Loops please, MUM!” On which, I thought I was clever with, till I got down the stairs, sat at the table and waited for her to fetch my cereal.
Well, spoiler alert! She did bring me my cereal in a bowl, like she always did, but what I did not expect was the flipping clip around the back of my head that followed.
I said, “Ouch! That hurt, Mum.”
She replied, “Good, less of your cheek, and behave yourself. Your father is coming home today, and I want you and your sister to be good. Don’t stress him out when he gets home, OK?”
My sister and I both replied, “Yes, Mum.” Oh yeah, I forgot. I have a twin sister called Cassey, who I am 100% sure, is either adopted, or was rejected from an alien race. Either way, she isn’t my problem or sister, but for now, she exists. Well, just as I was acting out the above text, at this point, she, who dare we not name, entered the kitchen and sat upon her chair and spoke.
“Morning, Mummy. I’m hungry, what’s for breakfast?”
Mother replied, “Morning, sunshine. What would you like? Do you want Honey Loops, Lucky Charms or SOFT BOILED EGGS and SOLDIERS?”
At this point, I was having a drink of my orange juice and spluttered it all over the place, and I choked. I started to cough, and it’s not a good idea to try and speak and choke at the same time. But, for some reason, I did. And what I said, I must learn to keep it in my head…
I yelled, “ARE YOU (said the naughty word) KIDDING ME?”
Well, I have never, ever, in all my life, moved so fast while, may I add, still coughing from the juice going down the wrong way, as my mum shouted at me.
“WWWWWHHHHAT DID YOU JUST SAY BOY!!!”
“I said, I love you,” I replied, as I ran out of the kitchen, through the living room, tripped on the second step, nearly burst my lip, but still evaded the on-coming enemy ‘Mum with a spoon’ and well, I just made it into my room and slammed the door shut and locked it, click !
I gave out an ‘O Mighty’ sigh of relief, but that was short lived as my mum banged on the door and yelled, “BOY, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID, OR WAIT TILL YOUR FATHER COMES HOME!”
Hmmm, at that point, I realised I was destined to hell and corporal punishment, and that the only thing worse than death or hell was my father, who reminded me of Darth-Vader out of Star Wars when he was mad. But on most days, he was like Pee-Wee-Herman, Mr Nice and Funny, but I wasn’t laughing at this point. Oh, I was not laughing. I was, in fact, taking my time to weigh up my options.
I said, “Err… can I think about it, Mum, please?”
To which, she replied, “Of course, dear, take all the time you need,” which was, in fact, the code for ‘either ways you’re dead and your friends will miss you’. R.I.P, Clive Flynn, came to my mind.
But at that stage, I was taking nothing for granted. I screwed up big time and needed to breathe, get my act together and think of what the hell was I going to say in my defence.
It’s a case of ‘tell the truth and pay the toll’, or somehow, plead that I was ‘posed by the devil’ and that—, NO! That would not work. The only way to do it is to tell my story, so here I go. Sit back and enjoy the final moments of Clive Flynn, or was it?
Chapter 2

The Trial!
As I sat on my bedroom carpet, with my back towards the door, crapping myself, by the way. Well, farting a lot in my pants as well, due to the fact that at some point, I knew I would need to leave my bedroom: to either pee ‘number one’, or worse, poop ‘number two’, and of course, good old hunger could get me too. Either way, I needed a backup plan, and fast!
I placed my ear against the door to listen for any movement. My relief was short lived, as my mum descended the stairs.
But then, something horrific happened. I heard what sounded like a mad women chuckling, down the stairs. I froze with fear. What the hell had I just heard? This was a whole new experience for me as I had never, in ten years, heard my mum, the woman who gave birth to me, (which now, I think I’m adopted) was now that thing. As kids, you hear people talk about crazy, lonely cat-women, who like to chuckle and laugh hysterically, while stroking a little cat. You might have heard some say, “Crazy cat-woman lives at house number blah.” Not that I know any crazy cat-woman, mind! Well, apart from this nut job, who had just made me even more nervous, and

  • Univers Univers
  • Ebooks Ebooks
  • Livres audio Livres audio
  • Presse Presse
  • Podcasts Podcasts
  • BD BD
  • Documents Documents
Alternate Text