Wednesday, 17 January 2018

Memories of a Helicopter

In Omagh, we use to live near an army barracks. Our back garden looked onto the playing fields of a convent school, and the barracks was on the other side. Occasionally, a stray football or frisbee would go over the fence and we would have to take the long walk down the hill, and through the school grounds to retrieve it.
One day, while my twin sister and I was fetching another lost ball from the field, a helicopter came flying over. We were amazed to see the helicopter lower closer to us, as we stood near the wire fence, our back garden now on the other side.
The helicopter got closer, and we could see an army man leaning out to look at us. In my hazy memory, I see the landing skids right above us, as I tried jumping up to reach hold on one. The guy in the copter was shouting something, but over the noise, we couldn't hear it.
And then, just as quickly as they had lowered, they shot off and away back to base, leaving us surprised and bewildered. I guess they were just teasing us, wanting to give two local kids something to tell their mates. I can't remember if we did. Given the passage time and the imagination of a child, I'm just the copter was a lot further away than I remember, but for a moment, all was noise, metal, whirl and wonder.

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