Another Live Bomb on Hurst Spit

This is spooky! Last year, well to be exact, on a Sunday afternoon at around 3.30pm on 8th February 2010, the flashing blue lights from a Bomb Disposal Unit truck was spotted driving though Milford on Sea village. 

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Your intrepid reporter was enjoying an afternoon of relaxation after a particularly spectacular Sunday lunch with friends at Westover Hall. (Surely the pastry chef, is one of the finest masters of his craft in the country. His sweets are so amazing that we had ordered five between the four of us.) I digress, so back to the bomb disposal. I now had a duty to find out what’s going on, but couldn’t really be bothered.

I then decided to wake my sleeping wife to tell her of the excitement - this is always a dangerous manoeuvre.

Not sure why, but she wasn’t greatly impressed. Her speech is quite incoherent when unexpectedly woken, but I guessed she was trying to tell me how much she adored being with me. I quickly asked ‘Do you fancy a walk to Hurst Spit?’, ‘Grrrr, if I must’ she said as clearly as she could under the circumstances.

For some inexplicable reason, her eye’s became glazed with that ‘mass murder look’ when I replied: ‘Great, can you find out what’s going on & tell me when you get back’. I was a bit worried for my life for a few seconds, but mustered the courage to explain that I had just got comfortable & was watching the rugby. Without her saying anything, I got the impression that my wife was not the least concerned about my afternoon sporting pleasure.

Anyway, my wife soon trotted off with our two sniffer dogs, both of whom would be willing to help out if the bomb disposal guys needed a hand. At around 4pm I heard a loud explosion. Dutifully, my wife later reported back that the Bomb Disposal guys had detonated a device on the beach just along the Spit after the bridge. My wife had failed to investigate what type of bomb it was, but I thought it best not to mention her error to her, as I hear ‘strange accidents’ can happen to husbands when a wife is annoyed!

This year, it happened again on a Sunday afternoon at around 3.30pm, but this time on 2nd January 2011.  We were returning along the seafront after another delicious Sunday lunch at Westover Hall, when we could see in the distance a large crowd on Hurst Spit. This was almost immediately followed by a loud bang, and a plume of smoke. The Bomb Disposal guys had detonated yet another WW2 bomb. As I eagerly turned towards my wife, she simply said ‘If you value your manhood, don’t even think of asking me to go down there.’ I did, so I didn’t.