The stench! That was what got me first as I pushed my bike up the steep, narrow lane: the reek of burning hair, bones, hooves and flesh.
Then I saw the smoke; smutty, evil-looking stuff rising above the hedgerow, hanging and swirling in the air like some gloating genie.
Wading awkwardly through the field in the direction of the oak woods were masked men in white moon suits spaying chemicals. From a distant farm came the umistakeable sound of a burst of gunfire.
With your current subscription plan you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the Profile section of your subscriber account page.