My Service to my Country

Hi Everyone

Back when we both had full time jobs and two small children, our only two week holiday in the year was very important. Our favourite times were taking our car across to France to spend memorable holidays either in a continental frame tent or caravan. In addition to the sun, sea and sand, we explored the French markets and especially the fresh fish shops, which were an event as well as an opportunity to buy some wonderful food. If we went out for a meal, we always tried to find a restaurant full of French people rather than a tourist establishment. The snails were great as we did not like fast food. The only demand the French people made was that we tried to speak their language as much as possible. I am telling you all this Rubbish as, this week, a journalist has suggested that France is falling apart in light of the unrest they have suffered over the last few days. Of course they are having their difficulties; you could write on the back of a postage stamp those countries that are not, but I suspect that in all those countries, the vast majority of people are trying to live an ordinary life while trying to live in peace wth their neighbours. 

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The current world events reminded me that as a fifteen year old at high school, we all became Army cadets, so every Thursday afternoon we would parade in our Army uniforms to march up and down the school quadrangle with Mr King in his Army uniform bellowing at us if our arms and legs were not in unison. We also had an Enfield rifle between about ten of us, and we had to learn how to strip down, clean and rebuild the rifle. We never saw a bullet, of course; otherwise there might have been a few dead maths teachers littering the corridors. In the following school year, the cadet regime carried on, but you could either stay in the army or join the RAF or Navy. I decided that the RAF was for me, so I swapped my itchy khaki uniform for an itchy blue uniform. The highlight of that year was learning the silhouettes of various aircraft. I found that every one of them looked like either a Spitfire or a Lancaster bomber, so at least I got two out of ten in the weekly test. At the end of the school year was the big cadet parade in front of a visiting general. We all had to assemble in the school quadrangle before proceeding to march round past the school entrance where the general, wing commander and captain were assembled, as we passed, saluting with our eyes left. Unfortunately, just as we were about to set off, one of my classmates had a severe bout of wind which echoed round the quadrangle, so we spent the next two minutes marching past the general and his entourage with tears in our eyes as we made a supreme effort not to collapse with laughter. 

It seems that every week we seem to have a jaw dropping moment. This week’s moment occurred in St. Petersburg when Steve Witkoff thanked Putin for releasing just one American man from prison. A man who was probably innocent all along. Witkoff thanked Putin in person saying “ You are a humanitarian sir, and I salute that. I commend you” Those words came from Trump’s chief negotiator to a man who has murdered thousands of people in Ukraine as well as his own people who have dared to challenge his authority. What Witkoff possibly wanted to say were the words  “you are a murderer sir” but then he would have joined those who had either been annihilated or disappeared without a trace to some ‘holiday camp’ in Siberia.

Just a Thought:

Camping is when you spend a week living like a homeless person.

My friend’s grandfather took down over twenty planes jn WW2. He was the worst mechanic they ever had.

Auntie, What’s diplomacy? It’s when you tell someone to go to hell in a way that makes them look forward to the trip.

Brian