Saturday, June 20, 2009


The new station I am at has not brought much excitement yet - but I'll give it a few more shifts before I give it the stamp of boredom.

Second last shift I was driving, not much to grab from there, but I did pick up a great story from an older lady:

She was a war widow, and had lost her husband (who was in the navy) in WWII. He was on a battle ship when it got hit, and sunk somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Midway through her grieving process (after three months to be precise), an american sailor walks through her door and greets her.
Well... after the initial shock of "Who the hell are you to walk in to my flat!?" turns out that it was her thought-to-be-lost husband.

"What the?" I hear you ask.

The Background:
The ship he was serving on sunk all right, but he was luckily rescued by a passing american battleship, which was on its way to America. Having lost all his clothes, he was fitted out with some spare american uniforms (naked would have been awkward).
Arrives in the US, sends a Telegraph to his wife stating that he is alive and well, and proceeds to jump on the next ship back to Oz.
The said telegraph arrives half an hour after Mr Presumed Dead does.

Funny things that life brings up sometimes.