Here in Bramley End, we celebrate Halloween in the traditional Wiltshire way. We hood the local goats, do the Broom Dance on the village green, then retire to the pub to sup ale and recount spooky experiences. Over the years I’ve heard some pretty bizarre tales in the snug of the Crooked Oak, but nothing quite as strange as the hair-raising real-life narrative you’re about to read.
Every Friday, Tally-Ho Corner’s cleverest clogs come together to solve a ‘foxer’ handcrafted by my sadistic chum and colleague, Roman. A complete ‘defoxing’ sometimes takes several days and usually involves the little grey cells of many readers.
Congratulations Master of Command, as you’ve passed your three-hour audition with flying customisable colours, Tally-Ho Corner’s next available feature slot (07/11/25) is all yours. Your next challenge is keeping me entertained for a full week.
How about I relay this turn’s developments in reverse benefilogical order rather than chronological order? ‘Benefilogical’ is a word not found in many dictionaries. It means “arranged in order of welcomeness”.
Using the following clues (the map above is purely decorative) in combination with Street View, work out my location.
A is for Alphabetised wargame, sim, and site news. Now and again, assuming I can persuade Austerity’s Blackburn Cirrus Bombardier engine to perform the miracle of internal combustion, I spend a few days scouring Simulatia and Grognardia for stories with the potential to fascinate, startle, cheer, dismay or amuse. Those stories are then dehydrated, alphabetised and delivered, via articles like this one, to people who’ve got better things to do than plough through puff and platitudes.
Every Friday, Tally-Ho Corner’s cleverest clogs come together to solve a ‘foxer’ handcrafted by my sadistic chum and colleague, Roman. A complete ‘defoxing’ sometimes takes several days and usually involves the little grey cells of many readers. All are welcome to participate.
This sixty-second burst of WW2 WeGo action leaves map square 29, 4, 5 and its environs reeking of cordite, limonene, and pinene. The citrusy terpenes waft from conifers violently pollarded and pruned by 25-pounder rounds.