Browsing through my mobile today I came across several notifications – some from Google, the rest from local mosques. Information about dates and timings of Ramadan=a=ding dong – I was actually shocked. WTF??? A Christian Country – my arse!!
Don’t know if it is anything to do with The Six Nations but I have noticed quite a number of very tall white men around town – a couple I estimate to be close to seven foot. Us war-time babies have to look up to them!
Watched an interesting conversation between Big Phil Campion and Matt Hollyer. In my time a couple of the lads transferred to SAS, good to see Matt carrying on that 3 Para tradition. I know I bang the drum for my Regiment but the standard of the British fighting man whatever Regiment or Corps, has always been high, Perhaps only The IDF and the French Foreign Legion come close. We did not create such an Empire by being pussies. ‘People sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.’
I feel honoured to have served with three winners of the VC, all sadly posthumous. Colonel H. Jones. Sergeant Ian Mckay both VC and Sergeant
Mick Willetts GC (equivalent to the VC – not being in the face of the enemy. I have tears in my eyes as I relate this.
I wrote this some time after the event :
Too many tears to cry
Too many years,
too many fears
too many tears to cry.
Too many places,
too many faces
spirit as always sky high.
Sent out to fight there,
might have been anywhere
but not under a foreign sky.
Too many seasons,
too many reasons
too many chances to die.
Why all those years,
why all those tears
Who’ll give me an answer – Why?
Gillygangle May 2020
In memory of Sergeant Mick Willetts GC, 3rd Battalion, The Parachute Regiment July 1971
The poem of Wilfred Owen came to Mind :
Dulce et decorum est pro Patria mori
Once upon a time I would have stood behind that sentiment. But now, with this shower of shit leading us onwards – no chance!
As I have noted before any mention of British Guiana brings back so many memories – not least because nine months after we returned daughter number One was born! A reference to the Seawall by Amelia this time – built by British engineers and saved a lot of land being submerged. On our tour the Seawall Flats were the accommodation blocks for the other ranks of the Headquarters element. A lot of fun and games there, but my lips are sealed!!
Noticed that OVO Energy is having problems – appears that the whole of the industry is built upon shifting foundations. I found them very difficult to deal with but there again. EDF are not a beacon of efficiency.
I joined Restore a day or two after it was formed. Farage is dead to me, Muslims and failed Tories are no foundation upon which to build a party to possibly get us through this mess. Are there any other options?
Manufactured furore over the remarks of Sir Jim Ratcliffe -of course we are being colonised, the footage of that brave policewoman standing up to the ‘This is a Muslim area’ arsehole proves that.
I am in a period of change, so much to do, so little time. It seems a slow slog through the day. The weather does not help rain, rain, go away, come back another day.
I jotted down something from Roger Mellie – seventeen moments of Spring. Got to say yesterday certainly proved to be a harbinger of Spring my car registered 18c at one point.
Thinking back to junior school and food shortages and little in the way of treats I remember one teacher who hoarded a tin of condensed milk in her cupboard. Destined, we understood, to be a prize. Me, usually top of the class at English was duly presented with this much sought after delicacy. Opened it at home – bloody contents had gone off and all that was left was a brown sticky mess.
Moral of that story – don’t count your chickens until they are hatched!
© Gillygangle 2026
