The stories can be personal experiences or just a recount of a fantastic Celtic moment. There is plans to do a fiction section as well where you can have some fun just making up your own stories.
All entries should be sent in the first instance to Cybertim@cybertims.com. Please also give the name that you want to be credited to the story should it be published. Please give a valid emil address so the publishers may conatact you directly for permission to include your story.
A few years ago we ran a story competition. this was the winning entry
A SOLDIERS SONG
They marched in step. They were determined, Billy could see it in their eyes. See it? He could almost reach out and touch it!
He was proud to march with them. Admittedly they were a motley crew but this was action not a bloody parade ground. Some of the uniforms were brand new, some were old and others were positively ancient. The overall effect, however, was impressive. The mixture seemed to highlight rather than detract from, the commonality of purpose.
These were not people you would cross with impunity or, indeed, at all. "Battle" was on everyone's lips, "Victory" was in their hearts.
Billy pressed onward, shoulder to shoulder with his country's finest. He knew the enemy and he knew they were formidable. However in the course of a skirmish a week or two earlier, he thought he had detected a weakness. Indeed possibly one of the biggest weaknesses of them all - he felt the enemy now underestimated his comrades.
If that were true, the enemy's arrogance would be exploited, ruthlessly.
Billy could still taste the whisky in his mouth. It reminded him of stories his father had told him of Sandhurst Officers making sure the "Jocks" were nicely tanked up going into battle. He realised it was a fine call. The trick was to get the troops merry enough to ignore the obvious perils but sufficiently sober to ensure they weren't a danger to their comrades or themselves or, worst of all, to an Officer.
"Back in the days", thought Billy, "when a bullet in the back was considered downright 'unfriendly' whether or not it was fired by a GI on speed...."
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, authoritative voice "God's sake, lighten up. This isn't a stealth attack...we want them to know we're coming." On cue, someone started a patriotic song. Soon most people had joined in. Not Billy. For one thing he felt self-conscious. For another, he had started hoping their confidence wasn't misplaced.
Gradually it seemed that others were beginning to share his caution. The battle anthems fell away.
Without warning, his comrades broke ranks. This caught Billy by surprise "What's going on?" he asked anxiously.
"Don't panic son, it's easier to proceed in single file at this point . We'll regroup as quickly as possible."
Before he could respond Billy was pushed, not entirely gently, into single file. He shuffled along with the others. Something hit him in the stomach. Following the example of others, he pushed his way through the obstruction.
Within 15 minutes of negotiating the obstacle, his comrades had regrouped. Together again, security and safety in numbers.
No time for further reflection. An abrupt order cut through the darkness "Right boys and girls....take up your positions."
Billy had hardly settled, when he became aware of the sound of voices. The noise they were creating seemed to grow in defiance as it grew in volume. Clearly, the challenge had been accepted, the enemy was prepared to meet them head on.
Billy was still trying to catch sight of the enemy when an almighty roar went up . Billy knew instinctively that the enemy had broken through. A greater roar followed and mayhem broke out. People were milling everywhere.
A shape appeared out of the crowd. Billy recognised the uniform immediately....and it wasn't theirs. Face to face with the foe!
Billy was paralysed, he looked far beyond his enemy. The sight which greeted him was one of unbelievable horror.
Klos was on the ground, the ball was in the net and Ryan Giggs was running to congratulate Diego Forlan.
The enemy pressed his face closer to Billy. Inspite of the noise, Billy could hear him quite clearly. The accent was thick, German and obviously fake ......
"Battle of Britain is it? Vell vor you and your allies, Jock, der var is over."
John Brawley
The story was written shortly after the second leg of the tie between Rangers and MANU. it gets even better if you now read it agsin
John Brawley has sadly passed away. JB we miss you Hail Hail
We are also running a thread on our website for the stories and you can post your stories directly onto the forum. Stories sent by email will NOT be shown on the forum
Hail Hail
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