The Good Shepherd. Chapter Two

It took over two hours to negotiate the road down the mountain. At times the old truck in front of Joe would stop, reverse back and take a run at a particularly large snow drift. The truck was slipping and sliding beneath Joe, but he maintained control, using all his years of experience. Just as Joe was beginning to give up hope of ever reaching safety, a faint glow of street lights appeared in the distance.

The trucks pulled into the truck stop yard. Joe swung his truck into a parking space then looked around for his saviour, but without even stopping for Joe to thank him, the Good Samaritan had disappeared. Joe was disappointed, he really wanted to shake the man by the hand, buy him a hot coffee and a full breakfast, but no mind, he was sure they would know who he was in the truck stop, and Joe could leave the price of a meal for him behind the bar.

Grabbing his kit and locking the doors, Joe ran as fast as he was able across the deep snow towards the café door. He entered to find the place empty apart from an old man sitting behind the counter reading a paperback book and looking extremely bored. He looked up as Joe entered.

“Well what do you know? I wasn’t expecting anyone to make it this far on a night like this” said the old man in a friendly, welcoming voice.

“I nearly didn’t” replied Joe. “Any chance of a hot drink and something to eat? What about a room, my night heaters packed up, and I don’t want to freeze out there!”

“Coffees on, and I can do you a full English if you’re really hungry, and we got no one staying here at the moment, so you can pick your own room” answered the old man. “Names Jimmy by the way”

“Joe” replied Joe. “Could I get a shower while you’re fixing breakfast?”

“Sure Joe, right through that door there” he said, pointing to the door on the left.

Fifteen minutes later, clean, warm and refreshed, Joe came back to the café. Jimmy was waiting for him with a large plate of fried breakfast and a steaming mug of coffee.

“Here you go fella” said jimmy. “Didn’t think the main road was open tonight, pretty bad out there”

“ I nearly didn’t make it, came over the top of the mountain, if it hadn’t have been for that old snow plough coming along and pulling me out of the drifts, I’d still be up there freezing myself to death” Said Joe.

“You came over the top?” asked Jimmy with more than a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yep said Joe. “ I got stuck in a pothole when I took a wrong turn, then my night heater packed up, I have to say, I was getting a little worried. Then this old guy in an ancient Austin appeared from out of nowhere and rescued me. Do you know him? I would sure like to buy him full English and a hot mug of tea.”

“Did this truck have any markings? What did the guy look like?” replied jimmy quizzically.

“The truck was immaculate, bright shining green colour, with W SHEPHERD TRACTION LTD painted in gold on the doors. The guy was old, late 60’s I’d say, wearing a lumberjack type shirt, dungarees, and a flat hat and fur lined boots”

“That sounds like old bill shepherd, local hero and a fantastic boss; I worked for bill for many years. If you don’t mind listening to the ramblings of an old man, I’ll join you while you eat and tell you the story of Bill Shepherd.”

“Sure” said Joe. “Don’t think I will be moving for a day or two”

Joe sat down and started to eat, as jimmy began the tale of Bill Shepherd.

“Bill Shepherd was a local hero, friend to all and enemy to none. Bill lied about his age, and at 14 joined the army. He was sent to serve in France for the last few months of the war in 1918, where he won the military medal for bravery after crawling into No Man’s Land to drag his commanding officer to safety. He was wounded in action, and was sent to the rear where he was taught to drive, and saw out the end of the war resupplying the front line. When he returned home to the valley he was one of only three survivors out of twenty four men that signed up to serve king and country. Bill bought with him an ex-army truck which he used to haul timber over the mountain from the lumber mill, down to the capital, and bring back supplies and anything that people were prepared to pay him to carry. Now remember that the motorway was only built twenty years ago, so in them days it was over the mountain or in the winter a two day journey around the head of the valley.  Bill would do anything to help out. If you needed something moved he would move it. In the winter he would drive around the valley roads keeping them open for the farmers and village folk.

Between the wars he built up a nice little business, running lumber down the valley, and when war broke out again, he would carry supplies to the newly built Naval Station on the coast. Of course, Bill was one of the first in line to volunteer for the army, but because of his wound from the last war, he was deemed medically unfit for service. That didn’t stop Bill from enhancing his reputation as a hero. He became a stalwart of the mountain rescue teams that were frequently called out to rescue air crews who failed to make it back to their base, and won another medal for climbing down a 200 feet cliff to rescue a pilot trapped in the wreckage of his fighter. It didn’t matter to Bill that the pilot was German; he had a respect for human life, possibly from seeing the carnage of the trenches in 1918 that wouldn’t allow him to turn his back on anyone I need of help.

It was after the war that I first got to know Bill well. I left school in 1940 and was called up into the army. I served in the desert, in Italy and was in the D day landing in Normandy. Like Bill, the army taught me to drive, so when I returned home in 47, it was only natural for me to approach Bill for a job. Bill was happy to use me; I would do the runs down to the capital, while Bill would keep himself local. We still had the problems with the winter snow on the mountain passes, but the work kept coming in, and in 1959 Bill invested in his first ever Brand New trucks, having always used second hand stuff before. Two bright green Austin 10 tonners with gold lettering. Bill stuck with the name Traction Ltd for sentimental reasons while other firms were using haulage or transport. Bill loved those trucks; he spent every spare minute polishing his, and would inspect mine at every opportunity, keeping me on my toes.

Now you look old enough to remember the winter of 63. Worst winter of the century, the valley was snowed in for weeks, the mountain pass was closed for a couple of months and the lowland route was almost impassable. I got caught out on the other side of the mountain. It took me three days to get back, and remember, we had no night heaters, not even a bunk, only a sleeping bag and sleep with the gear stick digging in your ribs, but there are enough people who were willing to open their doors for me to overnight in.

Now while I was struggling to get back, bill was playing the hero again. It started snowing really hard one lunch time. The school mistress, Mrs Thompson, decided to close school early and called Reg Riddiford, the school bus driver to collect the kids and take them home to the villages up the valley.  Everything seemed ok until, around 4 o’clock, Mrs Tiley, from the crossroads Post Office called Mrs Thompson to ask what time her daughter left school as she hadn’t arrived home yet. Checking with one or two of the other families in the village, Mrs Tiley realised that the school bus had not arrived in the village, so she called Constable Barrow.

Bob ‘wheels’ Barrow called Bill and the two of them set off following the bus route. Bill had the snow plough blade and wheel chains on the truck but even so, the weather had made the roads almost impassable. It was nearly two hours before they found the bus stuck in a drift. Reg had managed to keep the children from getting too upset; he knew that Bill would be along sooner or later. Between the three men they managed to dig the bus out of the drift, and with the Austin pulling the bus, they were able to get to the crossroad, where George Clark, a local farmer, was waiting with his tractor and trailer to take the kids on up the valley and home.

Constable Barrow and Reg Riddiford returned down the valley to the town in the school bus before the road closed up again, but Bill decided to clear some of the roads further up the mountain, there were a few isolated farms that might need supplies later in the week

. It was two days before Bill was missed. I returned from my epic journey around the head of the valley, and was surprised to see that the local roads were covered in snow, and that Bills truck was nowhere to be seen. I called Bob Barrow who told me about the school bus and about Bill going further up the mountain to clear the roads. I took the spare plough, chained up my wheels and set off with John Childs and Bob Mills, two of the mountain rescue team, to try and find Bill. It was the truck that we spotted first, what was left of it. It was lying smashed to bits at the bottom of a ravine about two thirds of the way to the top of the mountain. It took us another hour to reach where it had gone off the cliff, it was then we spotted Bill propped against a boulder.”

The old man paused in his story to offer Joe a refill of Tea. Joe pushed his plate to one side, took a long draw on his tea and let out a contented sigh.

“That’s quite a story” said Joe. “I would really like to meet this guy and shake him by the hand. Did he restore his old truck or keep yours in such good condition? He must have some luck to survive two days alone on the side of a mountain in winter”

The old man looked at Joe. “No” he said. “You don’t understand. When we found him he was frozen solid. How long he held out up there we will never know, but Bill died that night up on the mountain. I stayed on working for his widow, managing the business until she died a few years later. The other Austin was scrapped years ago. I don’t know for sure what you saw up there tonight young man, all I know is that you have a guardian Angel watching over you, and knew that the only one who could save you was Good old Bill shepherd”

The Good shepherd. chapter one.

It should have been just like any other run for Joe. A two day run up north, delivering to one of the more isolated communities. A day to drive up, tip, reload, have a night out, and then return the following day. His despatcher had given him maps and details of delivery points, and where best to spend the night. Joe had only joined the company three weeks ago, and so he was eager to make a good job of it. So far he had enjoyed his time with them, the pay was good, the trucks were clean and well maintained, and everyone was friendly.  Although this was his first time up north, he wasn’t too worried, after all, he had a satnav, a mobile phone, his laptop with Google maps, his overnight kit and he wasn’t afraid to ask if he got lost.

It was going to be a bit of a rough journey, the weather forecast had sounded a bit nasty for the next few days, but Joe had been driving trucks for more years than he could remember, and had seen it all. Snow, Ice, rain, floods and droughts, a little bit of weather wasn’t going to put him off.

As he was checking his load, the Transport Manager, Phil came over to check everything was ok. Phil mentioned that there was a short cut over the top of the mountain, a good road, quiet but can be subject to fog and ice this time of the year, but would save 3 hours over the main road, what’s more, it would bring him out right by the truck stop where he could night out.

Joe set off. It was a routine journey for the first few hours, mostly motorway. The cloud was thickening as he moved north, and after an hour or so, it started raining. The wind was starting to blow quite noticeably, and the rain turned slowly into sleet as Joe approached the exit for the shortcut Phil had told him about. His satnav was telling him to continue for another 53 miles on the dual carriageway, but Joe was not one to sit on cruise control for hours, and preferred to drive the truck. He signalled left at the junction, and turned onto the back road that would take him up over the pass and down into his destination.

At first the road was as good as Phil had said, a gentle climb, wide enough for two trucks to pass, well-marked lines and marker posts at bends, but gradually the road narrowed. The sleet started to turn to snow as Joe climbed, it was starting to settle on the road ahead, and Joe began to regret taking the short cut. After a while it became difficult to see the road ahead, the wind was blowing the, by now, heavy snow across the exposed parts of the road, and the truck was losing traction in places, but Joes years of experience came into play, and he managed to keep it moving. He thought about trying to turn around, but there was nowhere possible for him to spin a 38 ton truck around. His satnav had been telling him for some time to “perform a U turn when possible”  but had now decided that it would just follow the road ahead, and for some reason, it had started to lose signals from the satellites, and at times it went into a kind of confused calculating which left it more than useless.

As the weather worsened, Joe was having difficulty in seeing the road ahead. Suddenly he came to a fork in the road. There were no road signs, and the snow covering made it impossible to see which was the main road. Joe stopped, checked his map and his satnav, but could find no mention of a fork in the road. He put his coat on, and climbed out into the freezing blizzard that was now blowing strong. Walking a little way down each fork, he tried to see which the main road was, but was soon back in the cab rubbing his hands together, and blowing warm air onto them. He had a decision to make, which road should he choose? He chose the left fork. Putting the truck in drive, he moved off slowly. He had gone less than a hundred yards, when he realised he had made a mistake. Suddenly, the front nearside wheel sank into a giant pothole covered by the drifting snow, and the truck came to a halt.

Joe cursed his luck. Getting out and checking the damage, he was relieved to see that there was no damage to the truck but was dismayed to see that the wheel was in quite a deep hole, it was going to be difficult to get out of it with the road surface being so slippery. Climbing back in the cab, Joe tried everything that his years of experience had taught him. He tried the diff lock, dropping the air on the drive axle, he tried rocking the truck slowly back and forth, cursing all the while about automatic gearboxes, and wishing he had a clutch. He got out of the truck and tried digging the snow from under the drive axles, but as quickly as he cleared it, the wind blew fresh snow down onto the already slippery road. Eventually Joe realised he was going nowhere under his own steam. He picked up his mobile, it seemed as though he would have to eat humble pie, and call the boss for recovery. Now as we all know, when you need your mobile phone, it never gets a signal, and on the top of the mountain was no exception. Joe began to get worried. Taking a deep breath, he started to take stock of his situation. He was stuck somewhere on top of a mountain in a blizzard, he had neither phone signal nor any other way of getting help, it might be days before anyone came along this road in these conditions. On the bright side, he had a warm cab with a bunk, night heater and about 200 litres of diesel, a sleeping bag, some food and some chocolate, a kettle and tea. There was nothing for it but to wait until morning. Even though he was likely to be the only vehicle for miles, he was reluctant to get onto the bunk; instead he pulled his sleeping bag around himself, put his seat back and dozed off.

Joe didn’t know at first, exactly what woke him. He might have been asleep five minutes or five hours, it was still very dark outside. He took a few seconds to orientate himself, then, looking around, he realised that it was getting cold, very cold. Not only that, but the silence was deafening. The night heater had stopped. He tried the switches, on and off, turned the ignition on and off, but nothing worked. Now things had just taken a very serious turn for the worse. Without a night heater, it would be almost impossible to stay warm. The engine would run, and put a limited amount of heat out, but with the truck stationary, it would not be very much. Joe didn’t panic, but he was getting more worried, how long it would be before the cold got to him.

Just then a flood of relief rushed over Joe. In his mirror he caught the faint glow of a light, then two. Headlights! Someone was coming! Talk about in the nick of time, Joe couldn’t believe his luck. He waited until the vehicle came to a stop behind him, and then jumped out to greet his saviour. He was greeted by a sight he didn’t expect. Behind him was an old Austin truck, probably late 1950’s or early 60’s. Joe had seen trucks like this one running up and down the main road where he lived as a boy, and it was partially because of those trucks, that Joe started driving them. It had a snow plough blade attached to the front, and snow chains on the drive wheels. Despite the atrocious weather, it looked like it had just come out of the showroom, a deep green paint job, with the name W SHEPHERD TRACTION LTD painted in bright gold lettering on the door. As he approached, the driver’s door opened and an old man got out.

“Got yourself in a spot of bother then drive?” Said the old man.

“Am I glad to see you” said Joe. “I thought I was going to be up here all night”

“Well no bother son, we’ll have you out in a jiffy” answered the old man.

From the back of the truck, the old man pulled ropes and sacks. He attached the ropes between the rear of Joe’s truck, and his own, and put the sacks under Joes drive wheels, then got back in his cab, and signalled Joe to start reversing. Joe was amazed that the old Austin could pull itself back, let alone 38 tons of dead weight truck, but slowly and surely, his truck broke free from the pothole. The old man continued to pull Joe back onto the main road by the fork, before stopping to remove the ropes.

“Right lad, let’s get you down to the town shall we?” said the old man. “Just follow me, I’ll plough a route through for you” and he jumped back in his cab and made his way carefully past Joe’s rig. With Joe following at a safe and careful distance they set off slowly along the right hand fork in the road.

Christmas has been cancelled!

The Office of the President of the European Union

Dear Mr Claus,

Ref Application number CH439RE21 001

Reference your application for a charitable certificate of operation under  EU directive  2010/EU/13/A section 49, subsection 187, we have made numerous consultations with all interested parties within the European Commission, and we regret to inform you that your application has been rejected. We are not obligated to give an explanation for our rejection; however, in this case, because there were numerous objections, we believe it will help you to amend your requirements and operating procedures for any further application, and have listed below some of the main points..

1)      Health & Safety Board. We regret to inform you that your suggested uniform of Red coat and trousers, trimmed in white fur does not comply with the Working at night regulations 1997. This states that you must wear reflective clothing when working during the hours of darkness in a public area. Further, your boots and hat are not of the safe design required for purpose. Also, we note that you intend to land of roofs. This comes under the working at height regulations, and would require you to wear a safety harness.

The use of chimneys for access and egress to certain premises is covered by the Chimney sweep, fire and safety regulations 2009 and would require a full inspection of the chimney, together with a safety officer present to ensure that no fire is started whilst you are using said chimney.

2)      EU Border Agency. As all of your products are, as you state, manufactured in Lapland, which is an officially recognised area of the EU, there would be no import duty to pay, furthermore, as you propose to give your goods free as a charitable organisation, you would be free of and VAT, corporation Tax, and Income tax. However, you state that you propose to operate in non EU member states, and any items that might be imported during your journey would of course be liable for import duty. You will also need to provide full customs and excise paperwork for any products that you intend to export from the EU, and would be subject to search and investigation in the same way that any exporter is. There are also certain items that it is illegal to export from the EU to certain other states, i.e. nuclear weapons etc. Certain countries without a trade agreement with the EU, may impose import duty, for which you will be liable.

It has been brought to our attention that all you production is carried out by nationals of Fairyland and Elf land. As neither of these countries are member states of the EU, your employees require work permits and work visas. We are unable to trace any record of work permits being issued to any national of either country, so we can only conclude that you are operating with a workforce of illegal immigrants.

3)      Interpol. We are concerned as to the legality of your operation for several reasons. We understand that you intend to enter premises without the occupiers’ knowledge. While you state your reason as being to “leave gifts for the occupants”, you would still be liable to arrest for breaking and entering. Furthermore, your aim to “creep into young children’s bedrooms, and give them the biggest surprise of their lives” could be construed as not only illegal, but highly improper, and could lead at the very least, to you being place on the sex offenders register.

4)      Equal opportunities Board. We understand that you intend to supply gifts to Christens only. We must draw your attention that the fact that the EU is a multi-cultural society, and embraces people of all creed, colour and race. To discriminate against non-christens would be in breach of EU directive 2002 EU/145/2A.

5)      European Transport commission. We believe that you intend to use a “reindeer and sleigh” for the transportation of goods within the European Union. As this vehicle has not been certified in any E U member state, nor does it have any form of air worthiness certificate, we cannot authorise its use, even for charitable purposes. Do you hold the necessary operator’s licence for your company? Does your driver/pilot have sufficient rating on this vehicle?

6)      European livestock commission.  You intend to use domesticated livestock to pull your open sleigh. For this you will need a veterinary certificate of health for each animal, together with a valid animal passport in order for you to exit the EU. You will also need a veterinary certificate of health from the last country visited before re-entry into the EU

In summary, we suggest that your application is flawed on many points and needs to be re-presented with the above points rectified. You have of course the right to appeal to the European court of Human rights, who will listen to your case. In maybe 3 years, they will decide that as you are not an unmarried, disabled, immigrant with 27 children and a cat that has more rights than the other 490,426,059 citizens of EU member states, your appeal will be rejected.

May I take this opportunity to wish you and your family, a very merry Christmas, and a happy new year.

From the office of H Van Rumpoy

President (unelected) of the European Union.

Advice needed!

The agency called me tonight, they need someone for a special “one off” job later this year, and would I be interested. Seems that the regular driver has had a bit of heart trouble, and won’t be back in time to do it. Well, I asked a few questions about the job, sounds cracking, but I’m still not sure if I should take it, as there are one or two downsides to it.
First of all, I’m told I will be given full training.Its for one day only starting somewhere up north, multi drop and with set times for each delivery. Most of the drops are unaccompanied, I have to let myself in and unload the goods to a specific place. I will be told how to access each premises, and exactly where to leave the goods.
They told me that at many drops there will be some food left out so I won’t go hungry, and maybe the odd drink too, although as I’m driving, I’m not sure whether I should take it or not. I get to wear a special uniform, and as it can be cold in December, I get a fur lined boots and hat, and no need for a stupid hi Viz jacket.
As it is a charitable organisation, I’m told that I’m exempt from tachograph and driver’s hour’s regulations, which is just as well, as it’s at least a 24 hour shift. Can anyone confirm this for me?
The truck I’m driving is a specially made one, it’s called something like a Raindear Unslay, has anyone ever driven one of these before? Anyone know what the maximum gross weight is? I think I’m going out fully loaded. Is it auto or manual box? Is it Digital or Analogue tachograph? Apparently it’s only about 8 HP although I’m told it goes like a rocket. Going to have to watch the speed though, don’t want any more points. It has no headlights, just a huge red light on the front, is this legal?
Finally, has anyone ever worked for St Clause Transport before? What are they like to work for? Are they hot on Elf & safety? What’s the pay and working conditions like? Do I need a CRB to deliver to domestic houses?

A Winters tale

One cold wintery night many years ago, I was driving across the Dartmoor.  It was a wild and lonely place with not a living soul for miles. Every so often I would pass a dark form of a farm house, windows closed and shuttered against the winter weather, not a light to be seen, a barn with the ghostly figures of sheep and cows huddling inside for warmth. Occasionally my headlights would pick out a rabbit running in a zigzag pattern trying to get away from me, once an Owl swooped down low and flew alongside me in a strange formation, the underside of its wings reflecting the glow from my headlights.

The sky was dark, with ghostly shapes of broken cloud showing up in the light of a waning watery moon, pin pricks of stars were glowing faintly high above me, and once in a while, one would fall to earth with a silent streak of light. The wind was howling across the moors and every now and then, I would feel the truck sway this way or that as another gust caught me unawares. Snow flurries whistled past me almost horizontally; or crashed against the windscreen with a silent thud.

Glancing out of my offside window, I noticed, high up in the heavens, a moving light that got brighter and brighter as it approached. At first I thought it was a comet or a meteor, but it was moving too slowly for that, maybe a helicopter, as I know the army are often playing games on Dartmoor, but it was darting around like a firefly.

I watched as it moved in a circular path, as if it were trying to find a certain spot.  Finally it slowed to a hover above a silent and dark farmhouse. As I watched, it appeared to land on the roof. The UFO, or spacecraft, as that is what I was convinced it was, had landed on the snow on top of the house, using a ski like undercarriage. I was so surprised that I stopped my truck, and switched the engine and lights off, in case I frightened it away. As I watched a door in the side opened, and a ghostly alien figure emerged carrying what a large bundle of some sort. The creature walked along the roof towards the chimney stack, and then disappeared suddenly!

I climbed out of my truck and crept slowly across the garden to a downstairs window. A faint light could be seen. I peeped in.  I could see in the faint glow from the fire, that the house had been decorated with brightly coloured paper, shiny figures, tinsel and mistletoe, in one corner there was a large tree decorated in similar style, and on the top, a beautiful fairy. There was a movement by the fire, and the alien emerged. He was dressed all over in a red spacesuit trimmed with white fur, with thick black fur lined boots on his feet; his head was covered in a thick white growth of some kind. As I watched, he started taking gaily coloured parcels from what I could now see was a large sack, and placed them underneath the large decorated tree. Each parcel had a tag and was tied with a large ribbon; some had bows, while others had shiny stars of bright foil. Once the sack was empty, he moved towards a table, on which stood a mince pie and a small glass of whisky, together with a bunch of carrots. The alien drank the whisky and ate the pie, pocketed some of the carrots, then moved towards the fire place. Suddenly, before I knew it, he had disappeared.

There was a faint noise on the roof above that made me look up. I saw the alien moving towards his UFO, the door in the side opened silently, and the alien climbed in. there followed a faint whooshing noise as the UFO rose from the roof. It hovered for a few seconds then flew off at fantastic speed. I was absolutely speechless, I didn’t know what to think nor do, should I call the police? Should I wake the farmer up and tell him what I saw? Should I call the Air force or the Army?

 I thought about it for a while. Had I realty seen it, or did I imagine it all? Was it a dream? After a while, I climbed back in my truck and started on my way again. I decided to do nothing………………………….I mean, whoevers going to believe a story like that?.