The Hogarth Experiment Part 7
The first streaks for dawn
broke across the Wye Valley.
The Armoured Flamethrowers were poised
around the giant wasps nest.
Just as the sky began to lighten,
pushing away the darkness of the night
the first wasp climbed from the nest.
Long spouts of flame poured over it.
As its body was engulfed in flame
out of the nest, more wasps swarmed.
Suddenly the sky darkened again.
Several RAF bases were scrambled.
Spitfires and Hurricanes crowded the skies.
This time the enemy
was not the Luftwaffe, but insects.
The pilots where not sure what tactics
they were to use
or how the insects were going to react.
They swooped low down the valley
just skimming the treetops.
Then suddenly they were confronted with the enemy.
They peeled off in different directions choosing a target.
The manoeuvrability of the insects was unexpected.
They swerved, dived, hovered
and even seem to reverse.
Several tried to sting the aircrafts.
As more and more the wasps were shot down,
more replaced them.
Several of the aircraft crashed
as more than one wasp landed on them.
Spouts of fames stretched into the sky
from the flamethrowers below.
A second wave of aircraft
flew into the affray,
they seemed to be swarmed by wasps.
Several of the pilots few upwards
drawing a number of the wasps with them.
Aircraft and wasps darted around
the crowed sky in arial combat never before witnessed.
Hundreds of wasps fell from the sky
and were quickly replaced by hundreds more.
As the aircraft began running short of fuel,
they few away from the fight
and others were brought in.
On the ground, the Armoured Flamethrowers
were being attacked as well.
The wasps crawled over the machines
trying to find a way in.
Smoke began to rise from the nest
as more and more wasps lifted into the air.
Quite a number were met
by long stems of flames that engulfed their bodies.
Several with their bodies still alight rose
and smashed into oncoming aircraft
and both plummeted to the ground.
A black cloud from the burning
nest and corpses of the insects rose high above the valley.
Hour after hour, they fought
before the number of wasps decreased.
After six hours, the fight was over.
Bodies of wasps littered the fields
where cattle once grazed.
The RAF flew the length and breath of the valley
to ensure that there were no surviving giant wasps.
Soldiers with flamethrowers walked over the fields
burning every wasp they came across.
None was to be left alive.
The nest had a constant jet of flame poured into it.
When ever it seemed that the fames was going out
gallons of petrol was tipped down the hole of the nest
and the flamethrowers ignited it.
All through the night
and late into the following day
the process was kept up.
They could not afford a
ny eggs or any of the queens to survive.
Finally, it was over.
The charred remains of the wasp’s corpses
were buried in deep pit.
A week after the battle was over
only small scars on the landscape were noticeable.
A year later there were no traces
of what had happened there in the summer of 1945
and life in the Wye Valley returned to normal.
Professor Hogarth sat in his favourite chair
and watched his garden begin to grow again.
Several times, he could have sworn
he thought he saw shadows.
He put them down to his imagination.
The end.
Author’s note:
Although this has been, a work of fiction of which he hopes the readers has derived some pleasure in reading. I wish to leave everyone with this thought. As the world is increasing yearly in population. More and more plants are being genetically modified to increase crop yields. As insects feed off plants and other insects feed off them. One can never tell if the genetic structure of those insects will, itself be modified. We know that it takes generations for species to mutate. What we do not know is whether they are mutating now somewhere in the world. Which leaves us with the question. What if?
David Verdun Harris
6 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Wasp
Her slender waist resembles a wasp
And she goes on the muddy road never stops.
Unlike bees, wasps are largely carnivorous
And their species, digger wasps, sand wasps & mud wasps
But you are a kind woman and I am sure you do not have a formidable sting
Please do not hurt me as I am scared of wasps.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Nest of Wasps
Closing the garage door
a wasp was flying past my head
but strangely it didn’t come for me
and for the first time
I saw a nest on the door
where there were plenty more,
some more small red stinging wasps.
At first I thought that the nest
was empty and when I reach for it
six more wasps flew past my head
and I drew my hand back instead.
By careful inspection
I saw many more wasps
sitting at the back of the nest
and these pests
were sure to sting somebody
time and time again,
but why they were avoiding me
I still do not know.
I couldn’t leave the nest there
and had to get them all dead
and yet somehow I pitied it
and which I could just instead
let them be.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 6
It is strongly recommended you read Parts 1- 5 before reading this.
Professor Hogarth watched in horror,
at the returning insects
and what they were carrying.
He questioned himself
about what he had done.
His experiment had gone
well beyond what he dreamt.
It had created a horror unimaginable.
Somehow, they had to be stopped
before it went too far,
if it had not happened all ready.
He had to inform the authorities
and tell them everything.
The monstrous creations
had to be destroyed
or the world would be in peril.
Hogarth picked up the telephone,
telephoned the police station,
and explained to the Inspector in charge
everything that had happened.
He said he needed to talk
to someone from the Government,
as these monsters had to be destroyed.
The Inspector said that he would
report everything to the Army
as they were in charge of the situation.
They would be around to see him that night.
Hogarth replaced the telephone
and sat down to wait for the night to call.
Raymond Constantine sat beside the driver
and watched in horror at what was going on.
If the soldiers had not fired upon the swarm
they would have merely passed overhead.
Having killed one the release
of pheromone from its body
acted as an alarm
causing the rest to become more aggressive
and stinging anything near.
All they could do
was to wait and sit it out.
To venture outside of the vehicle
would be certain death.
Hogarth waited and waited.
Slowly the sun began to set.
He could see their silhouetted form
in the moon light returning to the nest.
The forms that they were carrying
made him shudder with despair.
He watched the time
as the hours ticked by.
He felt like telephoning back to the station
and asking where his visitors were.
A knock on the front door
answered his question.
He answered it and let
Captain Alex Walker and Raymond Constantine in.
They explained why they were late.
That they had been attacked and had to wait.
Hogarth explained to them, his experiment
and how he had suffered a heart attack three years previous.
Then how this year things had been growing larger
than normal including the wasps.
He could only guess that there was a nest
under his shed when it was destroyed
and that the experimental serum had leaked into it.
That it had taken three generations of wasps
before it altered their genetic structure
to make them grow as large as they have.
He could only speculate
that they could even grow larger
in future generation.
Constantine nodded
as Hogarth spoke.
His theory sounded wild and imaginative.
He would have taken it as a flight of fancy
had he not seen it for himself.
They had to be destroyed
and quickly before the new queens
had a chance of escaping
and starting new nests.
As they knew where the nest was located,
preparations had to be made
to eradicate completely.
Hogarth and everyone who lived within the house
would have to be evacuated
while this was done.
Evacuation would have to take place tonight.
At HQ Constantine explained
the situation to the chief of staffs
that had gathered.
The RAF would be able to shoot them
out of the skies
as they emerged from the nest in the morning.
On the ground, the Army
would gather flamethrowers
to ensure that the nest was burnt.
It would take a couple of days to prepare.
Over the next couple of days,
the Army gathered a unit of armoured flamethrowers
into the valley
and positioned them around
the opening of the nest.
As the nest would be made of paper,
it should burn quickly.
The only worry they would have
is those within the nest
would come out and swarm.
When this happened,
the flamethrowers would concentrate
on the swarm.
The RAF fighters would shoot
as many as they could down.
The operation would commence
the following morning.
To be concluded…
5 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Wasps!
I’m walking home, along the road,
Carrying my shopping; a heavy load.
I hear a buzzing sound right by my ear,
And my whole body fills with fear.
Without even looking, I know what is there.
I’m afraid that it will get caught in my hair.
I stand there stock still and totally freeze;
I’m terrified of wasps, but don’t mind bees.
A frown appears upon my face and I pray,
That this worrying wasp, will soon go way.
Soon, he loses interest and gets off my case,
But, even so, I purposefully quicken my pace.
The wasp disappears and I’m on my own again,
Thankful that, on me, he didn’t inflict any pain.
To date, I’ve been lucky and haven’t been stung,
But I’m so totally dreading my first ever one.
Freezing on the spot has worked for me so far,
And has managed to keep me from any harm.
When a wasp approaches, my shoulders hunch.
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of ‘al fresco’ lunch!
Some people wave their arms and go ‘shoo! ’
But, I know this is the worst thing they can do.
Of wasps, I’ve always been so totally terrified,
And it’s a fear, which is extremely hard to hide.
A wilful wasp flying around in search of food,
Can, in a heartbeat, suddenly change my mood.
Bees, unlike wasps, are useful and earn their worth,
But what is the actual purpose of wasps on the earth?
They just annoy people to the point of distraction;
Where there’s a wasp, there’s often some action!
I’m really not their biggest fan, and I really think
I’d be more than happy, if they became extinct!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 5
Peter levelled the shotgun
at the insect as big as a sheep
and pulled the trigger and again.
The blast knocked
the beast away from his father.
He quickly reloaded
as another giant insect
came close to his father.
The creature spun sideways
as the shot hit it.
Both creatures rose to their feet.
His father picked up the pitchfork
and jammed it deep
into the first insects head.
The insect wobbled on its legs
before collapsing dead.
The other moved giant insect
towards the fallen insect.
Peter had reloaded the shotgun
and fired both barrels at the head
of the advancing insect.
The head of it seemed to explode.
Peter reloaded the shotgun again.
His father ran towards him
pushing out of the way
of another giant insect.
They scrambled to their feet
and ran to the farmhouse.
They bolted the door
and moved to the window.
What they saw astonished them.
More and more giant insects landed
and seem to examine the fallen ones.
They then lifted them into the air and flew off.
John looked at his son.
Their battle was over.
All the giant insects disappeared
along with the two they had killed.
John went across to the phone
and telephoned the police.
He told them what had happened,
half expecting them to laugh.
They asked for his address
and said they would be sending
some people out to him.
They told him to remain inside with his family
and keep the windows and doors
locked until they arrived.
An hour passed and several armoured personnel carriers
stopped in the farmyard.
A dozen or more troops
emerged from the vehicles.
The Officer in charge
deployed them around the vehicles
before he and a short spectacled man
came to the door of the farmhouse.
John Fairchild let them in.
The short spectacled man introduced himself
as Raymond Constantine from Cambridge University
where he taught about insects.
The reason why they took so long to get there
was that he had to be flown down from Cambridge.
He asked if they could describe the insects
that they had battled with.
As they old him, Constantine frowned.
He then asked how many did they see?
John wasn’t sure,
but he estimated over twenty.
Constantine face grew paler.
He knew what kind of insects
had attacked them
and that very thought of that worried him.
He then asked what size they were.
John’s answer frightened Constantine even more
when he told him they were as large as sheep.
Constantine turned to the Captain
and said they must get back to HQ.
He then turned to John
and warned him
that he must not go out in the daytime.
Evenings and at night were Ok,
but not during the day.
Constantine and the Captain then left.
On he journey back to HQ
Constantine kept his eyes on the skies.
The insect John Fairchild had told him about
were social insects
and lived in nests of up to ten thousand workers.
Their nests were in a hole the ground.
The problem was going to be to locate the nest
and kill all the occupants,
but mainly the queen.
She would have to be destroyed.
Several times, he thought he saw something,
but they were merely birds.
As the continued, deeper into the valley
a humming sound arose around them,
slowly getting louder and louder.
Constantine turned to the driver
and shouted at him to stop.
The sky turned from blue to black
as a mass of insects flew overhead.
Constantine’s face turned ashen
with horror at what he saw.
Several of the insects seemed
to be carrying human bodies.
Others had small animals.
Several of the soldiers left the armoured vehicles
and were firing at the insects.
Sudden they swarmed them.
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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Wasps are Carnivores
Wasps are carnivores
Yes they eat meat
Aggressive meat eaters
mean meat eating stinging machines
I am not vegetarian
But I don't have a sting in my tail
Bloody wasps spoil the summer.
I googled to see if they did anything useful
I didn't like what I found
Without them, wine would not exist.
Ok ok I don't hate you quite as much
But is this why you are so smug?
Sometimes after wine I get a sting in my tail!
poem by Stevie Taite
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Spring rain
Spring rain
leaking through the roof
dripping from the wasps' nest.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Bees
Bees are messengers from up above:
Filled with goodness and with love.
Unlike wasps, they mean us no harm:
They are more friendly and have charm.
On fine, silvery wings, the bees take flight,
When the sun's warm rays are shining bright.
They collect up the pollen in their sacs,
Then, to their hives, they take it back.
They carry out their duties with a smile;
Their souls full of cheer all the while.
With keenness, they carry out their work;
Their responsibilities, they do not shirk.
Bees have such an important role to play:
We would be doomed if they died away.
Plants and flowers would cease to grow,
And supplies of foodstuffs would soon be low.
Of bees, there is no need for us to be scared;
About their work, they passionately do care.
If we leave these dedicated workers well alone,
Near to us humans, they will not dare to roam.
They will not sting us, unless they're provoked,
For them, using their sting is certainly no joke.
If a bee ever stings you, you may well cry,
But the poor old bee, well, it would then die.
Unlike wasps, bees are not considered pests,
Even though they are very similarly dressed.
Bees are really fabulous, bees are really brill:
A bee, you should never ever, on purpose, kill.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Ladybirds
If, upon you, a ladybird, lightly, lands,
Don't just brush it off with your hands.
Chances are, that its visit will be short,
Once it realises it is at the wrong port.
For the ladybird, we seem to have a soft spot,
But for worrying wasps, we certainly have not.
Ladybirds often feature in stories for the young,
And, as a result, their praises are frequently sung.
To ladybirds, we have quite an attraction,
But wasps do not evoke the same reaction.
Dressed in its shiny shell of bright, rich red,
The ladybird possesses a tiny, tickling tread.
Upon seeing a ladybird, a wish, you should make,
Then your wish will be granted, in the bug's wake.
If you kill one, then, for you, life will be really bad;
Misfortune will come your way, and make you sad.
A ladybird will never do you any harm;
It is considered, by some, a lucky charm.
If, towards a ladybird, you are kind,
A place up in Heaven, you will find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created parasitic wasps with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars.
quote by Charles Darwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let each man exercise the art he knows.
Aristophanes in Wasps
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Logistics
Midnight encounter.
In moon, on sand.
Why you were igniting a sheltered home
of wounded pride?
The blood spills
over the sea, in boat.
You were unrelenting, against traction
violence of unhappenings.
The blackness blooms.
A man will cross midstream,
writing on water the name of a lamb
who refuses to surrender.
I sit between the
kisses of dragonflies.
An empty paper nest waits for the wandering
wasps to come back with stings.
poem by Satish Verma
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The better the fruit, the more wasps to eat it.
Bugs (On a Summer's Day)
On any hot and sunny, summer's day,
Millions of bugs appear, to work and play.
Butterflies flit to and fro: they flit high and flit low;
Bringing a touch of beauty, wherever they may go.
Crimson red, with little black spots, is the ladybird.
My whole face lights up, whenever it's name is heard.
The honey bees, are industrious in their work:
Their responsibilities, they never ever shirk.
Then there's the ant, aka the earth excavation engineer;
One, I can stand, but a whole army feels me with fear.
I freeze with fear, when by a wilful wasp, I'm pursued.
They hang around, even when I don't have any food.
Likewise, different species of fly, varying in shape and size,
Look for food - to keep it covered, you'd be extremely wise.
Hoverflies, however, do pretty much as their name suggests,
But, unlike wasps, who look quite similar, they are not pests.
Storm flies may well be extremely tiny and titch,
But when they crawl on you, they don't half itch!
Outdoors, I dash away, if the sound of buzzing gets too close;
'Ha! I chased her away! ' the insects, to each other, I bet, boast!
Tiny bugs, which crawl about in my hair,
Is one thing which, I really can not bear.
Woodlice, however, do not like the scorching sun,
And, if disturbed, to a new shelter, they'll quickly run.
Lacewings look pretty, with wings, all delicate and lacy,
But emitting a nasty smell to predators, they aren't tasty.
In the evening, Grasshoppers and crickets chirp away,
Signalling the closing in of yet another summer's day.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Insect Kin
Iron lung i know you well
deal with you like a bad spell
see the trail moon burns
red strip and vicadin
you were the only one
you're the censor
you'll never people me
i'm not defenseless
in the afternoon as the light dims
build a life out of all this semtex
you're the brightest one
you were the centre
the perfect opposite of what you asked for
it's not just one way
a negative factor
with all these wasps out
i'd better take cover
copper tongue beam me up
lonely without my impediments
start to save what we used to steal
walking on gelatin
i never noticed you
you were the brightest one
you were wide of me
just like the english sun
you caught the light again
in a perfect way
the biggest threat of all
is in the alleyway
you're the demon seed
you're the factor
feel better with a little bit of plaster
it's not just one way
a negative factor
with all these wasps out
better take cover
there's all the pain
in the way she talks
all the pain in the way she walks
all the pain in her wave goodbye
all the pain in the way she smiles
all the pain in her fatal charm
all the pain in her arms
song performed by by Bush from Razorblade Suitcase
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yellow Wasps
Many yellow wasps
Attacked my younger brother
When he was busy
In trimming a branch of tree
Where they built their little hive!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through.
quote by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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