(if lj had been around in the 1800's)

Part the one: India and the Raj

From personal journal of Colonel Albert J Fotherington June 30th 1872

(morning): We arrived last night at the train station of Katahlandu, only to be greeted by a wild-eyed Indian chap who informed us that a man-eating tiger had been spotted the last few nights, prowling hungrily around the army compound. As if the blasted heat and the weak stomachs of some of the new troops wasn't bad enough, then one has to deal with this dreadful man in a state of disarray ( and do these colonial fellows ever wash?) ranting about Tigers in an accent best described as hard to understand.

(Afternoon): Took a stroll around the centre of operations, met all the command staff and some of the men. Despite an element of ranks blurring, they seem like a good bunch and certainly one or two soul-mates with whom I can see myself having a few rather marvellous nights of toasting Her Majesty's Health with generous libations. Captain Jonathan Carter was not at all what I expected; from a brief reading of his career record, I was under the assumption that he would be a loud boisterous character, full of life and with a roaring voice, ready to command his troops.

Instead, a tiny bespectacled blinking man with a strong Yorkshire accent. I shook hands gingerly, my heart sinking at having to work with such a strange unsoldierly like fellow. I was starting to plunge into the depths of despair until he said the following magic words. ' So, Colonel Fotherington, I do so hope that you are a cricket man? '