1978 Really! OMG

So the other day I am toodling down the road with Bob the dog listening to local BBC Radio, or as I call it Radio Worzel when on comes Abba Summer time city and its 1978. I turned up the volume and there I was boogeying away with the dog looking at me with that "here we go again,keep this up and ill bark".It is amazing to think how music can summon up memories and in my mind it was 1978 and as plain as day I could remember the first time I heard that tune. I was at RAF Guttersloch germany with my unit. Well actually we were not at the camp we were on the razz down town. Big Al, Tiny, SJD and me getting more than our fair share of pills and sausage down following yet another week of playing silly sods in the forests of Germany perfecting the art of trying to stay alive long enough to get the Harriers away before the Russians blew us to bits. Theses annual war games came as part of our very hectic routine that meant we frequently were away from home (wherever that was) for nine months of any year. Out of area operations could mean a trip to Australia or Belize, UN missions meant dropping rice bags on hungry Ethopians or it might be a Ace mobile force job to Norway or Turkey.  Then just for fun a three month job playing silly sods in Northern Ireland with the Helicopter force. It was all go and not many of us to go around. So we worked hard and we played harder.

This particular day we had been enjoying the bars of Guttersloch and nearing the end of our cash headed back to the Taxi stand and got a cab back the the main gate. All the way back Al was heaving and trying to keep it down. The driver noted this in his rear view mirror and speeded up. So did Al, then so did the taxi driver.. Soon we were blasting along at silly speed with Al turning greener by the minute. I sat in the front next to the driver grinning like an idiot SJD and Tiny in the back and either side of Al were dozing off oblivious to the possible eruption about to happen between them.

With a screech of tyres that Schumaker would have been proud of our Taxi arrived at the front gates and we all tumbled out. Al just made the door and puked up a fortune on the pavement. Once out the Taxi Driver just took off with the back door still open and not having the fare I still had in my hand. Indeed, he nearly took my hand off as it was passing the cash through the window when he hit the gas. I pocketed the cash looked at Al retching for Britain at gold medal level and the two idiots grinning and slapping his back. Then I turned around just in time to see two very big RAF Policemen walking over from the main gate. I said "nothing to see here Constable" and tried to look out of one eye kind of sideways in order to steady the view. "Been having a little fun then lads" said one of the Policemen from under his slashed Peak Cap and Tiny (6foot 7inches in his socks) said "I aint saying nothing till I speak to my solicitor".

Today I gave a lift to someone from Lancashire......erm.....they are not normal at the best of times. Most folk give simple directions, ie turn left, turn right, go around the roundabout and take the third exit or stop here and point helpfully. Not this one. This one had a marvelous economy with words, most of which had no actual meaning. IE "Gu Rate ear" Now before you think Rate is right... no.... "Rate ear" means Go where indicated so "Go Rate ear" could mean left or right or Rate around Sorry Right around the bloody roundabout, but even that is a bit of guess as no indication with digit or hand is given to clarify just Wear ear is to gu!. So remember dear reader Rate Ear means left or right or completely around unless its covered by "gu round" (massive pause and then) "rate ear" . Which could mean anything really. But above all else watch out for "Go by ear now" that means park up!.......Possibly ................er.... I think? Ohh, nearly forgot "Go rate on" means follow the road, or dont turn off (usually given after being told to Go rate) and as a correction. My favorite of course is "go rate ear round over then go ear now". Erm... spot on!

Happy Holiday in North Korea

Ahhh Now that is my idea of a fun holiday without a care in the world. Yes folks a holiday in North Korea. Think about the people you can impress. "Hi Mike we had a great time in NORTH KOREA this year" be the envy of your friends and survive a fortnight  with Club 18 to 30 Pyongyang.

Miles of deserted beach await you. Cleared of mines every morning by the local kids hop skip and jump team  to ensure your safety, but watch out for the little scamps playing "bury the enemy of the workers paradise alive" ha ha ha......erm.....yeah such fun!! .

There are many superb empty hotels to choose. From our workers paradise red star entry level hovel with hot and cold running wild life to our Premier Central Committee Class with optional cold water tap and electrical bugs fitted as standard and no extra charge. Our, attentive holiday reps are always eves dropping on your every word and only too happy to whisk you away on a magical mystery tour of old bunkers and municipal torture chambers should you wish....or not!

But, come on now its not all fun in North Korea. So, early to bed and early to rise for that bracing cold shower before a happy workers plate of lentil  gruel and a relaxing 2 hour physical re-education class. Then how about a hard sight seeing tour of one of our open cast dung heaps. there is nothing like a hard day laboring under a dear leaders son to work up an hunger.

As this is only day one perhaps the camp commandant will allow us to join the first daily death march back to our hovel  for a candle lit repast of fish heads and sawdust fu yung. But only if we score over 80 in our political re-education test..

And how about a little fun,  maybe if the electricity allows we can watch the radio before bed or listen to the TV.

On day two, three four and five your attentive holiday rep Who Flung Dat will escort us on a whirlwind tour of a workers correctional M&S undergarment facility with a factory outlet blocked to stop workers leaving early. Conversation with the workers is not encouraged and we are sorry if anybody is shot by mistake for trying.But time is pressing as indeed are the girls in the finishing and packaging department.

On the final night we will have a fiesta or Morris Oxford take us to the peoples roller ball disco tank fabrication facility for a demonstration of formation marching by the local Womens Institute.

We can sample there wonderful award winning rice cakes and lizzard crunchy clusters so loved by the happy masses before we all sing the Red Flag and call it a evening. In the morning discharge from the hotel will be at 0600 prompt and you are reminded that absence from roll call can be treated as desertion and is a capital offence. We hope you enjoy your stay with us and indeed your onward flight by catapult over the demilitarized zone back into South Korea.

Please remember to book early and that your life is at risk with no further charge during your stay..   I know I will be booking early for 2016 How about you?

                                                                     Good by!

Elephants in the Room

I think I am lucky in that I have a rather nice collection of friends scattered over this planet. In the main they are all the product of a Christian, white protestant Liberal (with a small l) upbringing and very tolerant. In other words they are in the majority of the countries they call home. For many years we have communicated very regularly and discussed our aches and pains, views on this and that and whatever has been the burning issue of the day. However, I thought the other day of the one thing we had never really discussed, to any great degree. It was as if to raise it would be similar to farting loudly during a sunday service in St Pauls. Naturally you have guessed what it is. Its effects were very much at the heart of the outrage in Paris recently and it struck me of just how much that carnage was ins some small way our fault for not tackling, or more probably having Politicians capable of not tackling a simple issue that was ignored simply because it was none PC to do so.

In particular, I was struck by just how fearful one very dear friend in Germany is and another in Belgium. The friend in Germany is very much the inclusive socialist and the other a devout Christian lady and yet both would be happy to see parts of the Middle East bombed back into the dark ages. Which in my view would prove the square route of sod all!

I think if there is time now to discuss the presence and effect of so many Elephants in so many rooms then we better get on with it and do it soon, Churchill said "jaw jaw not war war" and of course he was right up to a point. I hope that point has not been reached for talking and there is still time. The UN has just passed a very powerful vote that essentially allows the world to declare and carry on war against that bunch of murdering scum laughingly called IS. And yet, we still have to discuss it in the house of Parliament and we still have to agree on what to do then, well best get a move on then because the horse is very much in front of the cart on this one.

You may notice that no one nation is in any particular rush to do much more than uselessly bomb a lot of towns containing a lot of poor buggers who have nothing to do with IS and in the process they will probably cause more people to harbor hatred against those that bomb them. Well, wouldnt you get annoyed at being bombed? Then there will no doubt be a period of everyone earning lots of airmiles going here and there to confer about what they are going to do next and then not doing it. Meanwhile we will go back to being lemmings and forgetting the threat until another town is torn to pieces by gun fire. We are an amazing breed.

Well, I never have shied away from facing elephants in the room and once upon a time used to earn my living doing it. So, if I may, a word of advice, to the elephant dodgers out there.

Get your act together, get a unified command and strategy, then declare total and unrestricted war on these murdering bastards wherever they are and do not stop till it is over. In that way you may, repeat may, just get it done and completed much much sooner and with less death than by farting about at 30,000ft dropping large lumps of expensive hate on nothing in particular.

Then when it is over pass a really big and impressive law to ensure that all elephants have the right to be wherever they wish to be and be talked to face to face and not behind their backs. Its rude, really upsets elephants and look where it gets you!

Well what a week

Kept the Mail man very busy this week pushing medical appointments through my door. Every day brought another appointment to further fun and games.  I think December is going to be a very busy month for me attending, clinics, out patients, dentists and in particular having both ends of my poor old body invaded by hordes of well meaning people i have never been formally or informally introduced to, let alone given permission to skewer, photograph, snip bits off and/or otherwise abuse. Christmas should, I hope, give a temporary lull to the fun and games and a chance to rest my poor weary arse and back.

When I was a kid I used to have a mass of relatives living around me in varying stages of life and infirmity. Arthritis was a common one and the sight of my Grand Mother Lotti continually wringing her hands and Granddad Bill groaning as he stood up were so normal as to need no comment. Now I have both and there is no one to comment to as I groan my way around the house until yesterday. Yesterday was the day I was going to get up and write a sermon I have to give to the local church. I got up at six of the morning, groaned my way to the door and promptly fell arse over tit down stairs. Ooooooo Ouch it didnt half hurt and only the dog to lick my face bless him. But here is the funny thing.. My back is a bit....a bit......better today.. Could this be a new way of treatment.. "Good morning doctor I have arthritis in my spine" Doctor: "Realy.... well please fall out the window its only two floors and should be just the very thing to relieve your symptoms". However, I would suppose it is not a precise treatment and depends if you can fall on the right area.

Christmas is coming and once upon a time I would have been over the moon and packing my bags at the thought of that run home to see a loved one. As a kid Christmas meant packing the car and treking from Germany in a car one would only go to a classic car meeting in today. Mother would make a thousand cheese and tomato sandwiches, fill every flask with tomato soup.. Dad would check over the car and we would all wrap up in individual tartan rugs. Mileage would be calculated at the consumption rate of approx one humbug per ten miles and the heater usually managed to just steam up the windows. The windscreen wipers on one car (A Morris Oxford) had a habit of running slower the faster we were going!!!??

We would usually then all get sick on the ferry from the Hook to Harwich and then feeling bloody awful have to navigate the A12, North Circular and the A1 on up to Nottingham. How we did it that hard winter of 1963 I will never know. It took us days and on more than one occasion we nearly ran out of tomato soup.

As one grows the meaning of Christmas changes and when your courting and away in the Forces you miss your family and loved one a lot on the day. I nearly always had to work Christmas day in the Police or Forces and my wife at the time Rita got used to it. She was a nurse when we met and so she also worked Christmas if I was in Ireland or somewhere else. One year I remember I was pulling Orderly NCO at a very small airfield in Oxfordshire and I walking around cheesed off when the alarm on the gate went off and there was my Mrs with the Christmas dinner and all dressed up as a Christmas dwarf. We sat alone in the guard room eating our dinner and it was the kindest thing I can ever remember.. Bless. Then the Orderly Officer turned up and I thought we were in the dog house. But, bless him he was "old Skool" and the three of us sat down and polished off the port. Now I think of it, I think that was probably one of the nicest Christmas days I can remember.

With kids Christmas reaches another level and all I will say is that having a wee bundle of fun jumping up and down on your bed at 5 in the morning, a dog running around tearing up the wrapping paper and the most lovely decorated house you ever saw is only improved by the sound of your Mrs singing in the kitchen and the smell of Roastie Crimbo din din. Ill say this to. My ex could and probably still does the most lovely Christmas din din and can turn a house into Santas Grotto.

This Christmas its just me and old Boo Dog again and we will do our best to be festive on Christmas day and I think we will remember those far less advantaged than ourselves. The refugees fleeing war, those left who cannot flee, the Veterans homeless who still re-live the wars that damaged them and the thousands of families who have lost their homes and live in temporary accommodation and of course the millions of people in the world with no family and who live alone.

Appeasement

As Europe continues to pay for the Islamic nations melt down in the Middle East and North Africa I wonder where it will all end. One can take the historical view; that it is in some way all our fault because of the treaties carving up the middle east for oil and territory by the victorious nations in 1919. Or the vested interest of he oil companies in Iraq, Saudi Arabia and Iran that added to the problem from then on. But, its not the whole story. The disputes between tribes and the religious differences between Islamic sects did and continues to do far more harm.

Many have said that this is the Muslim version of the Middle Ages and currently they are experiencing some kind of reformation, but I do not think that is the whole story either. I think a lot of the problem is the nature of the peoples indoctrination to believe they are the only true faith and no matter what the sect they are the chosen ones. Such values and beliefs are totally at odds with more enlightened people and is totally behind the cause of the carnage we see in Syria, Libya and now Paris. This will continue while these ethnic, cultural and religious divides are so extreme within the Muslim faith. Plus, Sunny Saudi Arabia and others backing one side and Iran the other will always ensure their is never peace. And yet even within theses two diametrically opposed forces the sub sects continue to squabble. Of course, our own backing Saudi Arabia is a stain on our honor. I still wonder at the Saudis who recently said they would not take any refugees from Syria because it would upset the social cohesion of the state. I rest my case.

They say that evil prospers when good men do nothing. But many good men have tried and died trying to stop this particular evil prospering. I now I fear the only way this evil will come to an end is when the blood letting stops. It has been the way though out history, that these civil and religious wars only stop when those that cause them lie dead or driven from the lands they seek to dominate and once again or one or other sect is dominated through fear.

I have watched it and been involved in it from a young lad of 17 in Oman and then Lebanon, Afghanistan, Somalia and Pakistan as a soldier and UN Observer. I have always amazed how the local tribes can turn into savages intent on revenge and extreme cruelty at the drop of a hat or word from the Mullah like something out of the middle ages. It never ceases to amaze me because I have known these same people extend nothing but hospitality and manners to a person they deem a guest. And yet I am the same infidel they wish to kill the next minute. Perhaps that is half the problem, their faith is contradictory at best and divisive within its sectarian nature.

I remember a very distinguished old solder with a lot of service in India and the Middle East telling me that sooner or later the big one would break out and it would be the West V Islam. I think he may be right because unless Islam is ready and willing to moderate and confront the demons that drive it to such carnage then it is heading towards the only other alternative and that alternative is a veil of tears and moderation through decimation.

Wet weather Program-Boredom!

Wet and very windy today and for much of it Bob the dog and I stayed in and got the fire on. Depressing reading and watching the murderous carnage wrought in France by these home grown Islamic thugs. I cannot but think we are under as much danger from these people as we were from Germany in 1938. We also seem to be appeasing them to. I feel it will end in tears.

Anyway, we ventured out late on and drove up to the top of the hill that overlooks the coastal plain to the sea and got a dose of sea breeze. Now Bob has this thing about birds and today the fields were covered in sea gulls and crows. Not wasting a minute he tore off on operation roundup. Like a thing possessed he charged off here and there setting to flight hundreds of seagulls that did not take kindly to his pestering and set about dive bombing him. Bob with his tail between his legs tore back and hid under the car with just his nose showing in the shadows. I ignored him and went looking for a ball we had lost the day before. Five minutes elapsed and the seagulls settled to lunch once more and that was the red flag to the bull as off he shot again. Round and around the field with the gulls in host pursuit went Bob until exhausted he poddled back to his refuge under the car.

He has a thing about birds. Probably being a field working cocker spaniel has something to do with it. He once dived into a lake and retrieved a very much alive duck to my surprised wife. The duck was pretty surprised to.

A round peg in a round hole....Eventually!

It seems a long time ago now, when a women I knew and will always have a massive soft spot for walked into my life and changed it forever. I had just come back from Bosnia and really did not know what to do with myself and she was just about out of a rather strange relationship and looking for something she didnt really know what.

I have no idea really why I fell in love with her, because in actual fact she really could and still can be the most annoying stubborn bugger I ever met, but there was just something about her. A vulnerability that was matched by a concrete wall a mile high one had to climb in order to help her and usually totally against her will. Indeed, many was the kicking I would get in later years for trying. But above all that she also had a streak of cleverness and obvious ability that just needed a chance and direction. I guess linked to the fact that she has a heart as big as a bucket it was obvious that her life would revolve in helping others.

Her first outing in that direction came when we saw a job vacancy for area manager for the Prince of Wales business Trust. She was totally too young for the post. But a trip to a charity shop, purchase of the most disgusting granny frock you ever saw and the tucking of a Daily Telegraph under her arm sorted that. She blew the selection committee away probably because she has pretty good legs and got the job. Then to everyone's amazement, but mine, she did very well indeed. Going from area manager of Thames Valley to HQ in London in charge of the European Women's Business initiative. In this capacity she traveled Europe meeting some heavy weights along the way. Amsterdam, Spain, Brussels to name a few she ticked off the list of place to be seen in and became the euro business girl and was set to fly high.

Then not for the first time she decided to stand up for the oppressed against the mighty and paid the price. Politics in those days were a bit out of her league and the irony was that the girl she stood up for kept her job and Lisa did not.

However, she was a fast learner and wouldnt make the same mistake twice. So, on to new pastures and the look for something else to try her skills and attributes took her to a charity so small it only had four staff. The Child Brain Injury Trust. It was based in a cabin behind the Churchill Hospital in Oxford and was really not much more than a helpline and a lot of dead flies.

How it survive those early days would make a very good film. Because not only did Lisa take it from that Cabin to the national charity it is today, but she also helped a man (me) get over a stroke and brought up the off spring. One of whom inevitably it seems will soon be a special needs Nurse. Lisa in the time it was my honor to live with her certainly grew and I was lucky enough to help a bit here and there, but she without doubt did it through share hard graft and application all by herself. Indeed the Child Brain Injury Trust is really Lisa's charity and due to Lisa's efforts in direction and policy.

And tonight I was proud as hell when her charity was selected to be on Children in Need on BBC1. Not a bad effort for someone who once had a board rubber thrown at her by the Religious Instruction Teacher for being a bloody nightmare. That Teacher is now in the Lords and a good friend to Lisa and supports her charity actually, probably from shock and wishing to know what she gets up to next! Yep, not bad for a Hayes Skin head.

My own memories I have many. But my favorite was her love affair with certain cars (she is a petrol head) an MG Metro we called Motsey Go Faster that she loved to boogy around in. She backed it into a lorry and smashed the back end one day and her classic excuse I will always remember, "the lorry wasnt there when I parked it".

Also, a tatty MG Midget Arkely called Tonka. Watching her wrap herself in a fur coat, scarf, blanket, gloves and french woolen Beret before cranking up this mini tank that sounded like a buzz saw and blasting off on her trips will always stick in my memory. I think she got a speeding ticket in every car she ever owned. Including one in a very old Austin 1100 I didnt think could go that fast. Naturally she tried to talk the Chief Constable out of it.

Along with that though I have etched on my heart those days when she would come home dispirited sometimes totally depressed and dog tired.. Really achingly dog tired from the miles she pounded getting the charity to grow. The sight of her kicking off her shoes and dumping her bags will always pull at the old heart strings and stay in my memory forever. Bless lisilou you done it dux.  I could say more.. but lets leave it there. Well done Lisa. Nice one and I am so very proud of you. What you going to do next......Astronaut?

                                                       

Para Bloody Sunday

Northern Ireland and "the troubles" continues to simmer and occasionally boil over. Today a fellow veteran of the troubles, a 66 year old former Para, was arrested for alleged offences in the bloody sunday affair. I can make no serious comment about that sad day but I can remember oh to vividly my first tour of the province back in 1974.

The troubles were at their height with car bombs blowing the public and soldiers to bits daily, snipers a constant danger and parts of the province became near no go areas. I landed one very wet and foggy morning at Aldergrove, got off the Hercules transport and as I walked across the tarmac to the airport terminal there was a dull boom across the loch. "welcome to Ireland" I thought. I will not bore the reader with more than a snap shot of those years in Ireland. Suffice it to say, the Bogside was cold and clammy, Derry a bloody mess and Armagh really was bandit country. I cannot convey the fear in the pit of ones stomach that one gets when one thinks a sniper has you in his sights and the tingling in the spine one gets  when one is approaching and first spots a bag that could hold the bomb that could tear you apart. Its very sobering!

The constant feeling of unreality of Northern Ireland locked in its own strange sectarian battle was beyond me at the time and was a battle only they understood. We tried to keep them apart and in so doing became the enemy.. Bitter, ironic and deadly dangerous one never really knew who was the enemy, they all looked alike. Above all else however, was the constant gut wrenching stress of the place. You just never knew what the mad sods would do next and of course the victims could change to the threat at the flick of a switch. We had a kind of joke that said if you were a boyo or player (terrorist) you could be shot at ten and the tea shirt and song would be out by eleven.

That is not to say we ever thought of them as second rate. They, in the main, believed in their cause, were committed and very dangerous foes that it was better to respect. They could also be incredibly cruel. I well remember a crowd catching two army lads and stoning them to death. The hate was that bad in places you could feel it.

On our side I think the girls of the Womens Royal Army Corps never got the recognition they deserved. We would go out tooled up with rifle and they would simply be in a skirt and soft hat. They were young, as we all were, and when you see an 20 year old girl soldier dash out in her skirt and grab a child off the street in a gun battle you understand the meaning of courage. God bless em all!

Yes Northern Ireland.. I grew up there. I still cannot stand the sound of a helicopter or the smell of jet fuel without being transported back to a 20 year old lad dashing across and diving in the door of a puma helicopter rifle in hand and wondering what the hell was going to happen next. Skimming across the countryside of Armagh with the door open at 100 miles an hour and low enough to scatter the sheep.

Diving out of the window when a bomb is discovered under the bar table only to find out its some idiots gym kit. The utter waste of it all when you see a beautiful girl of 18 with two legs blown off at the knees. For what a unified Ireland. All these things were common enough back then and it cost 4000 lives to come to some sort of rational status quo.

What do I really think of a Para being arrested today for what happened on that Bloody Sunday.. Let him go. He has had over forty years now to worry about what he did and had done to him. Surely thats quits. Enough now.. let it go.

Life with Bob

Once upon a time there was a women who had a wee Working Cocker Spaniel called Bob. Why Bob? Because he had his tail cut off and the bit left really used to bob a lot. Anyway, she had a kid when Bob was a wee pup and decided that the two of them were too much for her and Bob would have to go. My partner at the time was not too happy about the idea, but me and the kids were very much in favor and one look at the wee shaver was enough to bring him home and he has been with me ever since. So, doggyfied did he make us that we now have two wee Cocker spaniels one called bob and the other called Bella. Well, I say we have and I should say we had.. My wife and I very sadly broke up and I got Bob and she got Bella. It was a shame to part them, but hey ho thats life. Since then Bob has been my only family and great company he is to. He follows me everywhere like my shadow and I will not go anywhere without him.  Indeed, there are not many days I have been away from him since he was a pup and thats 11 years or more ago. Yes he is 11, but still runs around like a mad thing and do not get him near water... or he is just straight in. Where we live now is next to the sea and has a few good sized lakes. This is pure bliss to Bob and my poor wee car stinks with all the dyke water the wee chap brings in after a good couple of lengths. As I write he is sat between my legs with the fan heater toasting his backside and he is steaming gently.

He has one or two habits which are interesting:
1. He will spit out dog meal biscuit to get to the pedigree chum underneath... So, I always put the pedigree chum on top now.
2. It has to be fresh water in his bowl or he barks.
3. Drinks water out of the basin if you put your hand under the tap to help it cross the gap.
3. Howls when I sing.. Probably a critique of my singing.
4. Pees on people I dont like.
5. Barks at black people
6. Can remember where he lost a ball and go back for days till he finds it.
7. Growls when he is on my bed at night and in the morning likes a cuddle and a silly song from me.
8. Will not go down certain roads in the dark if their are Ghosts down there.
9. Can find his way back to the car in blanket fog and when I dont know where the hell we are.
10. Loves a Hungarian girl down the gun club name Elle.
11. Farts, then sniffs, looks disgusted, looks at me and wonders off, like I did it!
12. He always gets half my lunch.
13. Loves Spaghetti
14. Hates baths.
15. Adores cars and loves to bark as we drive through puddles with his head out of the window.
16. His ears smell lovely.

But above all things Bob is my friend and has helped me through the worst time of my life and continues to do so. He is there for me and me for him, he never judges and listens to all my woes. He shares the hard times and the good, he never moans and only ever sits on my head if he has tummy ache and then the deal is for me to rub it better.

I once broke my achilles tendon and had to sleep on the floor downstairs. Poor Bob got fox mange and wanted to pull all his fur out... I ended up with fox mange to and him between my legs every  night. I would sit there and stroke him to sleep.. Its called bonding. I would do anything for that dog. Because, I really do love him. He is my only true friend. Long may it stay so.

Be nice to dogs readers.. there is no such thing as a bad one.. Just bad people. They are our closest friend and have been for thousands of years. Trust a dog and he will trust you. Thats far more than you usually get from another person. It really is. A dog will never let you down.

Lest we Forget

Today is armistices day or Remembrance Sunday and usually as a former serviceman I dust off my medals, go stand in front of the war memorial somewhere and think of my Grandfather who died nearly a hundred years ago in a night time trench raid on the Western Front. He was shot in the stomach in no mans land and died two days later in a field hospital. My Father can only remember meeting him once and sitting on his knee while his father sang to him in a khaki uniform. 

I took Zoe to see his grave in France one year and she sang him a song bless her heart. I was a little younger when my Father took me to visit him and I left him some badges and talked to him for a bit. I remember when Zoe and I went back to see him nearly 50 years later I could not help myself and looked to see if the badges were still there. They were not of course. 

I did not go to the memorial day today to give respects in the usual way. I thought it was getting all a bit much for some reason. What with people saying such tripe as "it should be the law to wear a poppy"  bloody fools. That was the reason we fought the wars, so you could make your own mind up what to do and not be told by a bunch of Fascists. I dont know how this arseholes get air time. 

Anyway,  I just wanted a bit of privacy and will go on the 11th and pay respects at a little village memorial in North Coates. It is a very small village and from the first war has over 27 names on it.. Seven sets of brothers are included in the names.. Can you imagine the impact on a village of 400 that loosing 27 men has and the effect of loosing both your sons has on seven families. 

But that is not the end of the story for North Coates was a airfield in the second world war and was very active on anti shipping strikes in the North Sea. Buried in the church yard are around 30 aircrew from all over the commonwealth who were wounded and died after landing back at the airfield in shot up aircraft. These men are lucky in that they have graves, the casualty figures of Coastal Command aircrew was very high and of course due to the nature of their battles mostly the dead crashed into the sea, where they remain. 

There are also 4 German aircrew buried in North Coates with no distinction as to where they are buried. As always the Commonwealth War Graves Commission treat them with the same respect as our own war dead. After all they died in the service of their country and deserve to be respected. So, North Coates knows a thing or two about the effects of war and yet very few people ever stop to look as they drive through and so it seems the right place for this old warrior to stand and stare quietly and respectfully and also thankfully be ignored. 

In Flanders fields the poppy's grow

Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Weekly review 7th Nov 2015

It has been an interesting week on planet earth..Once again terrorists have won a victory between them and the security forces. As the Irish once said "you (meaning the British) have to get it right all the time, we only have to get lucky once!". In Egypt this seems to have been the case and I await to see with interest what will be the Russian response.

Here in UK there seems to be a slight shifting of opinion concerning these endless child abuse cases from the 1970s. One in particular against Sir Cliff Richards has people wondering at what point trial by media, thanks to constant Police leaks, and the actual law that someone is innocent until proved guilty in a court of law with a jury of his peers has precedence. It remains to be seen what will happen should charges be dropped for insufficient evidence and what could possibly make amends for the terrible strain such accusations must cause.

I think it long overdue that the law looks again at due process pertinent to the releasing of identity of anyone not charged with an offence and only assisting in inquiries. Particularly when it is a case such as this. The damage to reputations can be beyond repair. I am thinking of Ted Heath and Leon Britten both of whom have suffered in this way and now are dead and unable to defend themselves. Leon Britten in particular suffered badly and in his final months of life when the Police leaked information concerning their inquiries into alleged sexual offences. Not only did those allegations fall flat and not proceed but the Police held off telling Leon Britten or his wife until after he had died. The Police need to sort this out and be held accountable for such appalling behavior. It should be included in the Judges rules to the police.

I never cease to be amazed at follk who say that only the people who have something to hide should fear having someone stick their nose into your private affairs. How many thousands have died to protect the freedom of people to have just such a private life. The new charter to snoop going through the houses of Parliament now are one such violation of our freedom. Churchill in the war resisted identity cards for just such a reason and they were withdrawn as soon as hostilities were over. Because as he said "it is not for a the British Public to tell the Authorities who they are and what they are doing. It is for the authorities to find out if they have a valid reason". We must be mad to just roll over and say sure help yourself to my email.. I have nothing to hide. Of course you do have something to hide, you have your life and anything about you. That information should be and used to be PRIVATE and it should remain up to you who you tell. We bang on about companies selling our data and the have a law to protect personal information held on record and yet now we give the state cart blanch to put our phones and computers under 24/7 blanket watch.. Churchill would be spinning in his grave along with all those others who laid down their lives for our right to view our homes as our castle and our privacy as sacred.

Grand designs channel four

I was watching this load of tosh the other evening mainly because there was nothing remotely interesting on and it was slightly better than Autumn Watch on BBC twice. Autumn watch is like Summer Watch, which comes after Spring Watch and soon we will be watching Winter Watch. Basically, they are all the same and if you wish you can duplicate the program simply by training a camera at your garden shed, painting it with Creosote and watching it dry.. You may wish to have a hanging basket adorn the door for summer watch and slowly kill off the flowers and chuck some leaves over the place for autumn watch.. You get the idea. Its very cheap TV and you can put the feed onto your PC in case you wish to catch up on whats happening to you shed at any particular time of year, or when you are on holiday.

Grand Designs is by far the more interesting program and is about couples with far too much cash who wish to go on TV and make a statement about how incredibly stupid they are and can get over basket case houses, change of use or new build structures. Mainly the plot is about a plot some idiot brought, spent years trying to get planning permission to turn lets say a water tower into a windmill with a five bed underground garage with a hot tub in each sail. This takes a decade or two and ends with the owners premature death through stress and poverty. I always howl at the presenters summary. Usually goes something like this:

"Well, Beatrix and Bamber Trembling-Mousetrousers have really given it their all in making this former public convenience and de-lousing station into a grand visage worthy of Royal patronage once more and I for one would be only too delighted to spend some time in and on it.

Its portcullis and grand balcony over looking the municipal baths steam pump room, I think, is to die for and above anything you would find in the coastal region of say Bridlington or further north. 

True, Bamber and Beatrix have spent their entire life savings and the sale of one kidney to pay for the court case against English Heritage over the removal of the 2000 year old listed grade 2 cesspit discovered when excavating the wash basins, But Im sure you will agree with me that once removed the back filling of the swamp although particularly onerous managed to get them back on that ten year plan and really paid off once the outbreak of cholera was under control. 

And......erm...... yes while the project sadly caused the break up of their marriage, the taking into care of their five children and a total loss of function in Beatrix's left side, it has not effected their sense of humor now that the property has been put up for sale at half the building price and temporary accommodation had been found for them. 

Nor has it daunted their willingness to settle out of court now that Bamber is slowly recovering from the attempt on his life by his estranged wife. 

BUT at the end of the day and when all said and done........It may have been a life changing challenge and many thought it dubious to take it on..... I have to say...... I think it works!

You just know about some people from an early age!

I once had responsibility for a young Teletubby by then name of Zoewinky. She was a rather interesting life form that lived with me at the time in a far off land at the end of the hallway. She had a delightful giggle, lovely peachy bum and big brown eyes... and still has.. As with all Teletubbys she had a thing about tubby custard, toast and although she would like to deny it cheese!  Frequently we would go foraging in the hills around teletubby land and create a world of mystery that only the very young and those about to have a stroke can understand. I remember the correct dress for these adventures was wellie boots, dungarees and teletubby hat. In the bag were Teletubby supplies of cheese and branston pickle sandwiches and marmite fingers, hulla hoops and of course that staple of all Teletubbys beaners.

We had no money and so everything had to be part of the adventure. Mother was Marbear and had a car called Motzi-Go-Faster and it was in MGF that Zoewinky had a tinkle while being held out of the window in a traffic jam on the M25. Zoewinky only ever cried twice.. Once when she stuck her fingers in a lamp holder to see what electricity felt like "made my eye urt" she smokingly reported later. and once when she danced in a big puddle and sank! Anything else like a trip to hospital for extreme horribleitus and the night of the leaking legs was taken in its stride.. Gutsy gal and still is. Never moans when she is ill, her mar makes up for that. Man flu has nothing on Marbear flu, which as everybody knows is far worse than Ebola.

Zoewinky's only weakness is needles and watching her pass out having a flu jab is one of my favorite memories... I had to practically carry her back to the car.. Bless.

I was thinking of Zoewinky today as I traveled back over the wolds to my house and upon negotiating a bend a tribe of stupid pheasants decided to ambush my car. My mind shot back to 17 years before and a similar situation in the back lanes of Oxfordshire when a pheasant dived into the headlight i had just replaced on my car.. I saw it jump out and knew there was no point in swerving, as the bird thudded into the light a little voice next to me said "Wanker". It was a special Teletubby word much used at the time by Zoewinky and Stevebear.

On another occasion I was in a cue at Tesco's and in front of me was this idiot going on and on about his coupons to a girl on the till who looked pale and going into shock with boredom. I looked at Zoewinky in the fold down part of the shopping cart in front of me and a message must have passed between our eyes for she said in a strong voice for one so small,  "Wanker". "Correct", I said.

Those were hard years for a lot of reasons. Years of Nuclear Stew and Brain Clot Pudding, Clothes from the charity shop and making everything part of a unique world that was special to us.

Zoewinky if your reading this. Thanks for being there, you really were a gift at times. You will never know how much you helped me put things back into perspective.  One day Ill tell you all about it. Till then hugs and kisses Zozbear and enjoy yourself. xxx