DUFF & NONSENSE!

A Sunday apology

Yes, alas and alack, this week I have lived down to my very worst traits of idleness!  Next week I promise to get a grip and return to my usual stream of, er, utter crap!  In the meantime, here are a few of what pass for thoughts in my brain!

 

Farewell, Meghan!   Don't think you will not be missed because we Brits always enjoy a snigger especially at dopey-daft foreigners.  Even more so when, as happens so often, they take an instant dislike to us.  Alas, Meghan, you have joined a world-wide club of zillions who detest and despise the British so not too much exclusivity there!  Oh, and please keep hold of Harry, he is a total prat and embarrassment!

 

Has anyone seen the Labour party?   Not, I hasten to add, that I am missing it, let alone eager to see it back again, but, dammit, it is supposed to be Her Majesty's Official Opposition!  

 

Simon Heffer gives it 5-stars but even so . . .    I am referring to Nick Lloyd's history The Western Front of which Volume I has just been published.  It has the benefit of providing insights into all sides of the conflict.  I am tempted, despite my certain knowledge that is will reduce me to tears of both sympathy and anger!  However, given my age, will I live long enough to finish it?

 

There is something rotten in the State of Scotland:   'If ye ha'e any doots' then the continuous stream of stories emanating from Edinburgh will still them, or rather, they will replace them with genuine worries for the 'body-politic' up there!

 

Cheerio, 'Nige', and thanks for everything:   So, we bid farewell to Nigel Farage, arguably the the most influential British politician since Winston Churchill.  He it was who, virtually single-handedly, got us out of the clutches of those wretched Europeans and their British 'fifth column'.  Give that man a seat in the Lords!

 

 

No more later 

 

 

'Ich bin ein dummkopf'

So here I am sitting indoors, huddled round the gas fire whilst outside the sparrows are dropping off their twigs with the cold - or possibly because of the weight of birdseed they scoffed off my bird-table earlier - greedy buggers!   There's nothing on the 'telly' and the 'Memsahib' has retired upstairs for a nap, so, I decided to do something I haven't done for a while - I picked up a book!  For a man who, on average over the past 70 years, has usually read two books a week, my sudden decline in reading is a disgrace.  

Anyway, I determined that my low morale needed bucking up so I reached for my Kindle and got stuck into the first book I came across.  Within ten pages I was more depressed than when I started!  Why would I be surprised given that the book is: The Hitler Years by Frank McDonough!  No, not exactly a bundle of laughs but I am determined to persevere and if I am indeed a 'dummkopf', then just how 'dumm' were those millions of Germans 'back in der tag'?

 

 

 

I'm sinking in a sea of books!

I remain as addicted to books as I have been for some seventy years but, alas and alack, my actual reading of them has fallen away - bit like my sex life, really!  Consequently the pile of 'waiting to be read' books is actually blocking out the light round my armchair!  This old-age lark really is quite insidious as the energy cells empty themselves and defy replenishment.  Even as I tap this piece of non-news out on my computer-thingie, sitting on the desk before my eyes is a book by Kenneth Macksey entitled: Why the Germans Lost the War: The Myth of German Military Superiority.

The title really intrigued me because I have long believed that when it comes to the art and craft of warfare the Germans far exceed any others.  Actually, thinking about it, I suspect that it is the art of tactics at which they excel, strategy is beyond them - thank God!   For example, apart from loonies like Hitler, did anyone in the German High Command really believe they could conquer the entirety of Europe?  True, they did come close but when it comes to war, close is never close enough!

Anyway, I must give myself a kick and get reading again!

 

 

George Blake R.I.H.

The "R.I.H." in my title stands for 'Rest In Hell'!  And I sincerely hope - alas, I don't 'do' praying! - that you share your space there with the late, and equally vile and treacherous, Kim Philby.  Did both of these despicable traitors truly believe that Soviet Russia was the idealistic heaven the world was waiting for?  That Stalin and his henchmen were the saviors of Mankind?  If so, they were both as stupid and ignorant as they were treacherous!

The Sunday Rumble: 25.10.20

Who messed with the clocks?   As if a shuffling, old, 81 year octogenarian wasn't confused enough, somebody's changed all the clocks!  I blame .................... (Fill in your choice!)

 

Brilliant news!   I'm reading again!  Well, it's brilliant for me but given that it is likely to provoke me to even more 'boring-snoring' commentary it may not be so good for you!  I don't know why a year or so ago I suddenly switched off from reading, any more than I know why, equally suddenly, yesterday I picked up a book and started again.  The book was simply the nearest to hand and it is a biography of Abraham Lincoln by Jan Morris.  He/she - yes, he/she is, or was, both despite fathering five children, is a well know writer but this is the first of her books that I have read.  So far I have only just reached Lincoln's 20th birthday but already, knowing (roughly) where he was to ascend, I am fascinated.  It helps that Ms. Morris writes impeccably clear English!

 

The real Boris, er, sort of:   And, unsurprisingly, he is simply ghastly!  That is according to Ms. Lynn Barber who has reviewed Tom Bower's just released, un-authorised biography of our very own 'Dear Leader':

Bower never quite states his own position on Boris, though he quotes zillions of his detractors. Max Hastings — perhaps regretting ever having launched Boris’s early success as a Brussels journalist — describes him as ‘a man of remarkable gifts, flawed by an absence of conscience, principle or scruple’. 

"There’s a pattern to Boris’s life: it’s the casual dishonesty, the cruelty, the betrayal, and beneath the betrayal the emptiness of real ambition: the ambition to do anything useful with office once it is attained."

What have we done to deserve such rat-bag, political leaders?

 

'Lord' Lewis Hamilton reaches the zenith:   Yes, I have promoted 'Lord' Hamilton from a mere Knighthood because today he has become the greatest racing-driver of all time - er, well, until some unknown lad who has barely learned to drive eventually reaches the F1 starting grid.  Whilst Lewis deserves his kudos, his Dad deserves his share.  It was his dedication to his son's early career that sent him on his way.

 

 

  No more Rumbles 

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 18.10.20

We bid farewell to bonny Scotland!   Well, there's no way we can force them to remain!  Mind you, if that's "the high road" they are determined to take, then all we can do is shut the door firmly - very firmly! - behind them and wish them good luck in the 'welcoming arms' of the European Union, a.k.a. the German racket!  It is patently obvious that nothing is more important to  'Mrs. MacWhinge' than, er, well, 'Mrs. MacWhinge', actually, and her place in Scottish history.  The fact that eventually it will sink lower than the Loch Ness monster has not yet dawned on 'the wee lassie' but it will, eventually, and I hope I will still be around to attempt my version of a Highland fling!

 

Fascinating book review in The Spectator:  The title of the book written by Catherine Grace Katz sums it up -  The Daughters of Yalta: The Churchills, Roosevelts and Harrimans: A Story of Love and War.  I might just treat myself to a copy, after all, you can always depend on the ladies to to go to the secret heart of a meeting between men and as meetings go, they do not get much more crucial than Yalta!

 

California - here I do NOT, under any circs, come!   Well, I have just read Douglas Murray's report on the, er, 'golden' state and it stinks - literally!  

Anyone who has visited San Francisco in recent years will have noticed that one of the world’s most beautifully positioned cities has turned into an American dystopia. Nowhere in the first world is actual inequality more pronounced. The proximity of Silicon Valley has made property unaffordable to anyone below the millionaire class. And when that class comes down from their towers or ventures into the centre of the city they encounter sights rarely seen outside of a zombie movie.

The incentivisation of homelessness, dire provisions for the mentally ill and easy access to legal and illegal drugs have meant that even the city’s boutique shopping streets are crowded with people who have made the streets their home. A portion of the responsibility for this lies with Mayor Gavin Newsom who, having made such a success of San Francisco, became Governor of California, to see if he could make his policies fail on a larger canvas.

Needless to say, California is ruled ruthlessly by Left-wing 'Democrats' whose crass stupidity and corruption is obvious to all - well, all except those who actually live there and vote, apparently!

 

What's the Norwegian for "Jolly good show, chaps!"   Well, for once, at least, the Nobel Peace Prize officers managed to reach the correct decision for granting a Nobel Peace Prize, although, to be accurate, it's not so much to whom they gave the prize - it was "the World Food Programme for its efforts to combat hunger and to prevent it being used as a weapon of war" - but whom they ignored".  Thus, the ineffably smug and stupid, Greta Thunberg was passed by!  What can one say, except perhaps, 'Ohdearwhatapitynevermind!'

 

More rumbles later . . .

 

 

 

A Sunday Rumble

God and Donald move in mysterious ways their wonders to perform!   Yes, yes, of course there is a difference between God and Donald although the latter may doubt it!  Anyway, God, for reasons unknown to me, has unleashed the dreaded 'Covid-lurgi' on us all probably because we have all been very naughty boys and girls!  Donald, on the other hand (well, he sits on the right-hand of God!) has taken swift advantage of the death of that old 'Leftie' harridan who occupied a seat on the Supreme Court and swiftly appointed another lady to the post but this one comes with impeccable Right-wing views.  Apparently, this will clinch a Right-wing majority at the Supreme Court for years.  Jolly good show, Donald!

 

Labour lead in poll:  Not, I hasten to add, that I place that much confidence in political polls.  Even so, I would rather not read of a 3% Labour lead over the Tories!  Surely, the Tory 'grandees' must see that Boris is a dead loss as a leader and that Rishi is the man for the job.  So, just get on with it, chaps, and don't think that Boris will be hurt because, according to reports, he is feeling a severe financial pinch as PM and he would earn 'zillions' more in the private sector.

 

An apology to my American friends:  As I have reported some time ago, this bloody-bloody 'fatigue syndrome' with which I am plagued virtually destroyed my vociferous reading habit.  However, just as it occurred, I pulled an old, un-read, paper-back book from my shelf and placed it on my desk as a reminder!  It is a fairly slim volume but, I suspect, the subject is 'yuuuuuuuuuge'!  I'm not too sure how it will go down but I am determined to try!  It is a biography of Abraham Lincoln by Jan Morris about whom, I am ashamed to say, I know very little.  I will post reports as I go.

 

No more Rumbles 

 

 

 

A Sunday Rumble: 20.9.20

Sorry, Donald, but Daniel Hannan has it about right:  I will not attempt to paraphrase his impeccable English, so instead I will take the lazy way out and just paste and quote from his piece in today's Telegraph:

If I were an American, I’m not sure I could bring myself to vote for Donald Trump. It’s not that he lacks achievements. His tax cuts and deregulation worked: the US economy was booming pre-Covid, and unemployment was at a record low. His judges have the humility to recognise that the Constitution is bigger than they are. His success in reconciling Israel with a number of Arab states would have had the global commentariat demanding a Nobel Peace Prize had it come from any other president.

But I keep coming back to his character flaws: the childish lies; the inability to distinguish between public office and private interests; the mafia-like expectation that his supporters should follow him on his own account, changing their views whenever he does.

Yeeeeees, I think that about sums it up!  Even so, Mr. Hannan reminds us:

I don’t think I could vote for Joe Biden, either. I remember watching him at a conference two years ago, and it already seemed painfully clear that, to deal plainly, he was no longer in his perfect mind. With the world in its worst-ever recession, can Americans afford to have him at the helm?

From a British point of view, though, things are far clearer. Trump is unquestionably the more Anglophile candidate. He identifies strongly with his Scottish mother, and sometimes describes himself as half-British. 

'Nuff said!  I think we'll keep him on!

 

The real test for Boris:   Will he have the balls to flog off the BBC to the highest bidder?  It is now a self-inflated balloon filled with rancid anti-British, pro-socialist opinions and a provider of programmes, sport excepted, that hardly anyone watches or listens to!  It's your final test, Boris, just 'man-up' and do it!

 

This day 80-years ago:   Was the height of the most crucial battle fought by Britain since the Armada.  As has been well-expressed in most of the media, it was fought with the essential assistance of sundry Poles and Czechs and others who took to the skies and helped us defeat the Luftwaffe.  At the same time, we must NEVER forget the likes of the late Sir Robert Watson-Watt who was the force behind the construction of the radar defence system which was to prove critical.  Let us salute all of them, pilots and 'swots' alike!

 

Or could Boris 'do a runner'?   Patrick O'Flynn at The Coffee House seems to think it is quite likely:

Few would suggest that Boris Johnson, for all his gifts, ever had a Wilsonian concentration span or a Stakhanovite work ethic. So it requires no great leap of imagination to suppose that the not easy, not spacious, not socially-orientated days he is enduring right now are not what he had in mind for his premiership.

Throw in divorce, fatherhood again at 56, an impending further marriage and a touch-and-go spell in intensive care that may have left its mark on his own capacity and it's easy to see why the gossip has been building that Johnson may do a Wilson early in 2021, once the main loose ends of Brexit have been tied up.

Apparently, Michael Gove is reckoned as a favourite to take over and that would be interesting not least because I have always detected some considerable intelligence behind those owl-like specs of his.

 

 

No more rumbles

 

 

That Shakespeare fella', very tricky, you know!

I have given 'old Bill' a bit of a rest in recent times, mostly because I have been taking a bit of a rest, too!  However, I am prodded into action by an interesting article by the highly intelligent Daniel Hannan in The Telegraph.  In it, he points to the probability, or in his opinion, the certainty, that Shakespeare was bisexual.  Well, that's OK with me.  Old Bill was, or at least, appears to be from his writings, all things to all Men.  I would not be so quick to accept his actual homosexuality because, dammit, of that "all things to all men" characteristic!  His imagination took him inside the minds of heroes, cowards, kings, murderers, rebels, refined ladies, tarts and so on and on.  However:

Harold Bloom, after a lifetime of studying and teaching the plays, concluded only that “by reading Shakespeare, I can gather that he did not like lawyers, preferred drinking to eating, and evidently lusted after both genders.” To that list, I would tentatively add that he distrusted crowds, had suffered a painful betrayal and hated hedgehogs.

You will need to read Mr. Hannan's original article for an explanation of Shakespeare's alleged dislike of hedgehogs!  As for me, I do not give a flying hedgehog whether he was queer or not.  I simply remain in awestruck gratitude for him writing those plays which added so much to my life.

 

 

 

The eccentric political genius of the British

I try not to write in praise of my countrymen too often because, alas, there is all too much evidence to contradict it.  Even so, the event of 1215 in which King John signed, under intense pressure, the Magna Carta, was an event of world-wide and historic importance.  It was the foundation stone for the concept of democracy, although if any of the participants had known the long-term outcome, I suspect they would have agreed to tear it up on the spot!

Romantics (like me, I'm afraid to say) would dearly love to claim this as the first step to democracy.  Well, it was - sort of - but actually, in itself, it was just another roughly-hewn deal between two groups of powerful men trying to hang on to their riches without the risky business of going to war.  Even so, one damned thing led to another and then to another and then to yet another and - 'hey-ho!' - we were off on the democratic hurdle race.

For myriad reasons way beyond my educational 'ken', gradually, despite occasional setbacks, this democratic lark actually ascended until it became the icon for other nations to try and emulate it.  Not, of course, that it is political perfection, not least because it is operated by human beings - yeeeeees, quite!  Even so, where it has worked it has, by and large, been incredibly beneficial to people of all classes.

So, all I can say is, jolly good show, Britain!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 28.6.20

Understanding is beginning to dawn!   Now, at least, I am beginning to fully understand what "Going to Hell in a handcart means!"  Perhaps, Field Marshall Foch put it better with "My centre is giving way, my right is retreating …", although he added that in response he intended to attack!  Whatever, both 'over here' and 'over there' our societies appear to be disintergrating and the (so-called) 'powers that be' appear to be clueless over what to do.  Sometimes, edging ever closer to our mutual, good friend, Death, is a comfort!

Oh no, I've been 'Hefferlumped' - again!   Well, of course, as I intimated earlier, I have just finished Simon Heffer's superb - and I do mean superb! - history of Britain during the Great War.  So now I have bought his earlier work "High Minds: The Victorians and the Birth of Modern Britain".  I have no doubt that it will as perceptive and well-written as his later work "Staring at God".  Dammit, I just 'lurve' history and my only regret is that I will never be able to thank the late Miss Purvis, an elderly, unmarried lady, like several others who taught me at school and who were doomed to spinsterhood having lost their beloveds during WWI.

Latest score: Dom 1, Blob 0:  According to reports, Sir Mark Sedwill, the 'Grand Blob of Blobs' (ie: the Head of the Civil Service), is to be fired.  The lesson is obvious now to all the lesser 'blobs' - don't mess with the Dom!  Dammit, up above I intimated that I was asking "Death where is thy sting-a-ling?" but now, I want to live at least another 25 years to find out the background to this example of 'history in the making'!

All this knee-bending is ludicrous!   And I can state here, clearly, that I will never 'bend the knee' to anyone except Her Maj, er, on the understanding that one of her footmen will help get me upright afterwards!

Yes, that about sums it up:   I was much taken with these words from Andrew Stuttaford at The National Review:

What is really killing Italy’s economy, Italy’s banks, and Italy’s public finances are the consequences of Italy’s decision to cheat its way into the euro, a currency for which it — as at least some of those putting together the single currency knew — was never suited.

Italy wasn’t suited to the one-size-fits-all euro then, and Italy is not suited to the one-size-fits-all euro now. The least bad way out of this mess remains, as it always has been, the division of the single currency into ‘northern’ and ‘southern’ units.

But don't hold your breath waiting for Brussels to see 'the bleedin' obvious'!

Who is Zion Lights?   I don't know for sure but I think I want her to have my babies!  Well, I nearly always admire people who learn things and then change their minds.  It's nearly my bedtime so I will not go into the details, just pop over to the CAPX site and read about a remarkable and rather attractive lady.

 

No more Rumbles . . .

 

Pheeeew, what a scorcher today and yesterday and the day before . . .

Truly, I cannot remember such long, sustained heatwave since those, er, 'happy' days when I lived in a tent on the end of runway #2 at Bahrein Airport.  Yes, yes, I know, I know, I keep repeating that tale but that's why it is a mistake ever to buy an old soldier a drink in a pub!  Mind you, old sailors are just as bad!  Anyway, the fact is that an occasional hot day or two is perfectly acceptable in this "our septic Isle' if only to remind us that drizzly rain does not last for ever!  Even so this extended 'scorcher' is, quite simply, damned un-British!  Even reading, my 'go to' hobby is hard work because I have to keep pausing to wipe the sweat from eyes.

Talking of reading, I noticed an old book of mine up here in 'God's little attic' which I can barely remember reading.  It is titled "Lloyd George and Churchill" by Richard Toye.  I sort of want to re-read it but having just read part way through the 'Heffalump's shocker, "Staring at God", I'm not sure I can.  What a pair of twisters and rascals they were!  I sort of knew it with 'Winnie' but I hadn't realised what an 'A1 shit' LlG was!  

God save us from politicians!

 

 

 

*ALL* lives matter!

I must say that I enjoyed a snort of laughter at the cheeky fellows who flew a 'plane over the Burnley football pitch prior to a game, towing a banner reading: "WHITE LIVES MATTER".  It's about time someone said the equivalent of 'Bollocks to the Bishop' to all those sanctimonious, 'I'm woker than you' praters and preachers. They, of course, are dim enough to believe that their endless marches and demos and chants are helping the incipient problem of so-called 'racism'.  Of course, the exact opposite is the truth of the matter.  More and more people are sick and tired of hearing the constant repetition of the ghastly history of black people which, of course, began centuries ago when black Africans acted as agents for Arab slavers from the Middle East, long before Europeans joined in.  You don't see too many demos in Riyadh about that part of black history!

Of course, the end result is that in Europe and America, more and more white people (like me!) are reduced to tears - er, that's tears of boredom! - by this never-ending campaigning which frequently results in riots and destruction - mostly of black peoples' homes and businesses!  Another result is that more and more, originally sympathetic, white people, are becoming increasingly anti-black because of this non-stop agitation.  Yes, the history of black suffering is enormous but the key word is "history"!  There may be examples of it today here, or more so perhaps, 'over there' but mostly it's history and there is sweet f.a you can do about history.  Some mad dictators try to rewrite history but it never works!

 

 

 

'Les Temps Perdue' - thank God!

Well, my ignorance concerning Prime Ministers of Britain is 'yuuuuuuuge', as regular readers will testify! After all, I have only just in the last few weeks discovered what an unprincipled, lying, duplicitous, Welsh shit, the late, unlamented David Lloyd George, was as PM. Thus, I am less than shocked to find out that the late Clem Attlee was not much better.
Of course, the main chance he had for everlasting fame was as deputy Prime Minister under the enormous shadow of Winston Churchill during WWII. No chance there, of course, with that massive ego towering over everything and everyone. Still, he had a sort of second chance when, against all the odds, he beat Churchill in the election at the end of of the war. Unfortunately - for him but not for us! - he took command of a country that was wrecked almost beyond repair. Of course, he nationalised just about everything he could lay his socialist hands on but really that amounted to a mere extension of wartime 'rules 'n' regs'. None of them worked that well and over the next 50+ years his socialism was sold back to private enterprise.  Even his 'goody-goody' left-wing credentials do not stand up to scrutiny, according to 'The Speccie' which points out':

Today the twitter mob likes to condemn Churchill for the darker episodes of the war, like the handling of the Bengal Famine in 1943 and the strategic bombing of German cities. But Attlee, as Deputy Prime Minister from 1942, was fully involved in those policies and raised no objections. Indeed, it was Attlee, in Churchill’s absence, who gave the order for the bombing of Dresden in February 1945, which killed 25,000 civilians. Nor was he then a firm supporter of Indian self-rule, which he feared could lead to 'a brown oligarchy'. One Labour peer, Lord Listowel, complained that on India, Attlee was 'a muted echo of his master’s voice'. Modern ideologues might also be interested to know that in 1944 Attlee fully backed Churchill in overturning an attempt by parliament to give equal pay to women teachers.

Nationalisation of some industries apart, his home policies were not exactly true red, international/socialist:

After the war, Attlee was no social justice warrior. In fact, he was the iciest of Cold War warriors. Without consulting either the cabinet or the Commons, he decided that Britain should have its own independent nuclear arsenal. A key architect of Nato, he approved of clandestine operations to undermine eastern European communism like an attempted coup in Albania. At home, he used 12,000 troops to smash a communist-backed dock strike in 1949. Fascinated by intelligence – he met the director general of MI5 more than any other post-war prime minister – he introduced anti-subversive security vetting for senior civil servants and also instructed that MPs, ministers and even their families be monitored for signs of disloyalty. 

I'm not complaining, mind, in fact I am deeply grateful that his upper-middle-class background, plus perhaps, some ingrained common-sense kept him away from the wilder yearnings of his, er, 'Brethren'!  Imagine what Michael Foot  or Jeremy Corbyn might have done!

 

 

 

If you're a Brit and feeling cheerful do NOT read this book!

Alas, I refer to Simon Heffer's superb history of Britain, or  to be precise, the British government, during WWI.  Pay no attention to my misleading title above, the book, "Staring at God", is essential to anyone interested in the governance of Britain - then and now!  Even so, I must warn you that you will not be the same person at the end of it.  I have still not finished it because I can only take small amounts at a time.  Of course, "as any fule do no", WWI was an unmitigated disaster for virtually all the national participants but a great deal of the blame for British suffering attaches to the two nincompoops, Herbert Henry Asquith and David Lloyd George, who led the nation through 1914-18.  

It is difficult - although Simon Heffer manages it superbly - to grasp the incredible stupidity and dereliction of duty by these two utterly incompetent men.  Dammit, Asquith spent time during cabinet meetings writing love letters to his lady friend, whilst in 'Flander's fields' British soldiers were being slaughtered wholesale under the military leadership of total incompetents!

Alas, the long lesson to be learned from this book is that nothing has changed!  Even a quick glance at the occupant of No. 10 is enough to confirm your worst suspicions.

 

 

 

In which I have been nudged - firmly!

Yes, indeed, and from a fairly hefty 'fella', too!  I have just received an e-mail from Lord knows where sent by 'JK' who is on a mission - or a piss-up - or something somewhere!  In it, he reminds me that today is the 6th June and therefor an anniversary of the D-Day landings.  Normally, I do not take kindly to 'punters' telling me what I should write but as it's 'JK', possibly my longest serving reader who is also, I fear, very much larger than me, then I must take the hint.

Even so, what can one add to the mountain of words that already exist on the subject of perhaps the greatest military operation ever undertaken?  Even now, having read countless books on the subject I remain 'gobsmacked' at the sheer, unbelievable complexity of that operation.  The fact that it was run by two separate and proud nations with all that that entails, adds to my incredulity that not only did it occur but that it was a magnificent success!

Even I, a non-stop 'scribbler', cannot find the words to express my admiration and gratitude to the men - and women - who contributed to it.

 

 

 

Bad news concerning the Battle of Midway

I rank the battle of Midway which was fought on the 4th - 7th June 1942 as one of the most crucial battles of WWII.  I have written about it here, many a time and oft'.  As a result of it, Japanese sea-borne air power was crippled and America now, in effect, 'ruled the Pacific waves' which allowed them to choose their eventual approach to Japan.  

I was distressed, therefore, reading an article at The American Thinker which describes one particular 'cock-up' by the USN which resulted in the loss of virtually an entire squadron of aircraft:

Perhaps the most consequential of the failures is alleged, by many who have studied the battle, to have been brought about by Commander Stanhope Ring, leader of the USS Hornet’s Air Group. Here are some of those allegations.

Ring rejected the advice of Lieutenant Commander John Waldron, the leader of Hornet’s torpedo-bomber Squadron 8. Waldron accurately predicted the location of the enemy fleet, and disobeying the orders of Ring, turned off course, and led his flight to it. The pilots who instead followed Ring, flew to the wrong location, found empty ocean, and therefore played no further role in the actions of that day. Two of them died when they ran out of fuel and ditched in the water. Waldron’s entire squadron, attacking alone, without support from Ring, was annihilated, but for one survivor. [My emphasis]

What can one say except possibly "O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!"?  Once again, all too human failings and weaknesses inflicted a disaster - thus is it ever in warfare.  Even so, the strategic result was an immense victory for America and the world and I for one salute the memory of those men.

 

 

 

What a man!

When I saw the headline to the effect that a British WWI officer's war medals had recently sold at auction, I was struck by the sub-heading that he had jumped from the observation balloon in which he was stationed when it broke free and threatened to drift over German lines.  Well, I thought, I've jumped from quite a few balloons in my time but, to be fair, only in the most peaceful circumstances!

Here he is, Lt. Arthur Burberry, late of the London Regiment and the RFC, who was observing enemy movements from his balloon when his 'anchor' cable was broken and he began drifting towards the German lines.  He quickly deflated his balloon to stop it falling into German hands and then baled out.  He continued to soldier on in the RFC but was eventually taken prisoner.  He was released at war's end and after a spell at university during which he learned several languages he joined the Foreign Office.  He also 'learned' a great deal about women and became a renowned 'swordsman'!  A friend described him thus:

His Cambridge friend Lance Sieveking said of him: 'As a youth, and up to the age of 23, when in 1919 he at last came up to King's (College), he had a traditionally idealistic attitude towards sex and women.
'This changed, and in a short space of time he ceased to imitate Sir Galahad, and adopted the attitude of Don Juan.  'A Don Juan with a mission - to bring love and physical satisfaction into the lives of as many women as possible who might otherwise be deprived.'

Following his death in Germany in 1959, his funeral was held and Sieveking quipped: 'The church was full of women of all ages, dating back to his youth and coming right up to the newest loves of his last year.

'I was the only man.'

Obviously a 'love rat' of the first order but even so, what a man!

 

 

 

A shrewd and honourable traitor

I don't know why I check the Telegraph obituary page so carefully each day, perhaps it is intimations of mortality, or maybe because you do 'meet' some interesting people!  Today, for example, I 'met' the late Herr Richard Wadani, an Austrian man who was conscripted into the Wehrmacht during WWII.  As a young but convinced communist he was never too keen to serve a Fascist government led by Adolph Hitler!  Finally, in 1944, he took his chance and defected to the allies.  He crawled towards an American infantry position at night but found all the soldiers asleep!  Eventually, he succeeded and was posted to a Czech unit in the British army.  He returned to his homeland after the war but following the Russian suppression of the Czech Spring, he resigned from the communist party.

An interesting life and an interesting man.

 

 

Would you buy a used-car from this man?

Thought not but it's a pity 'cos that's 'Honest Nick' Machiavelli, a really decent 'geezer' when you get to know 'im, know wot I mean?!  

Well, 'maybe, baby'! He certainly told a few shocking home truths which make both for uncomfortable reading as well as surreptitious giggles!  Alas, some of his, er, fans make one pause:

Later, the Big Beasts of the modern era lapped up [his major work] "The Prince". Hitler had a copy by his bedside. Mussolini called it “the statesman’s supreme guide” and wrote a new introduction. Napoleon reportedly told Metternich that Machiavelli was the only author worth reading, although the story that a copy of "The Prince" annotated in the emperor’s hand was found in his carriage after Waterloo seems to be a Jesuit fabrication. [A Jesuit fabrication?! Surely not!] Stalin certainly did annotate his copy.

I raise the subject of this fascinating man because I came across a superb book review written by Ferdinand Mount, formerly of The Spectator (natch!) and a man whose views I respect immensely. Alas, I haven't had time today to read the full review but I urge y'all to do so and then to buy the book:

https://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/magazine/what-we-get-wrong-about-machiavelli-the-prince-ferdinand-mount

 

The VE-day defeat for Churchill

To me it remains extra-ordinary that within two months of the whole nation celebrating VE-Day in 1945 the British people threw Churchill out!  There's gratitude for you!  I still ask myself whether it was folly or wisdom?  There can be no doubt that Churchill was a great - albeit, far from perfect! - war leader and the 'sucker punch' the British people delivered to him must have stunned him.

The reasons, as in any electoral contest, are myriad.  Undoubtedly the vote from servicemen was crucial.  They yearned for a very different Britain from the one they had known before the war.  Socialism, with all its enticements, had captured their hearts and minds.  I think, on the whole, it was a wise decision on their part not least, in retrospect, because it handed the Labour party a sack full of hideous problems to which there were no quick and easy solutions.  Consequently, having endured five years of socialism and realised that it was not, perhaps, the answer to all the problems the country faced, they changed their minds and in 1951 they voted Churchill and the Tories back in again.  By then the very worst effects of post-war austerity were beginning to abate and the Tories were able to take full advantage.  Socialism, red in tooth and claw, was no longer the, er, 'Peoples' Choice' and thus the Labour party was wise enough to limit their socialistic ambitions.

All in all, I think, the British 'Peeps' were exceedingly shrewd - for a change!

 

 

 

My late - again! - Sunday Rumble: 03.05.20

Sorry, sorry, sorry!   But the fact is that I felt a tad 'under the weather' this morning - no, no, I haven't got the dreaded 'lurgi', just a slight increase in my usual fatigue syndrome!  Or, to put it another way, I couldn't be arsed to climb the stairs to the top of the house!

 

Medical stats are bad for your health:   So, best not read this from 'The Speccie' on the subject of incubator use, or non-use, if you catch the dreaded 'lurgi':

Data from the UK is hard to come by. However, on 27 March, 78 per cent of Covid patients who had gone to NHS ICUs were intubated and ventilated within 24 hours of arriving. By April 24, that number had gone down to 67 per cent. The cumulative mortality rate for NHS ICU Covid patients decreased from 52.1 per cent to 50.7 per cent over that same period. 

What do I make of that?  Nothing and my advice remains the same if you end up in hospital, just say, "Yes, Nursie!" and do as you're told!

 

Will Covid-19 lose Donald the presidency?   Certain reports indicate that it will but mostly they emanate from the US 'meeja' which is about as reliable as 'The Beijing Times'!  I can't see that Donald has been any more useless than most national leaders everywhere and anyway, what else could he have done?  'Still 'n' all', as they are wont to say 'over there', the 'dreaded Peeps' are an unforgiving lot!

 

A soldier's tale:   As we approach the 75th VE Day anniversary I thought it right to mark the occasion and can do it no better than direct your attention to the late Guardsman Edward Colquhoun CHARLTON VC.  He was killed on 21st April 1945 after defending his platoon single-handed against a German attack.  His courage was so exemplary that even his German opponents praised him after the fight,

We shall, and should, remember them!  You can read the details in The Sunday Mail.

 

No more Rumbles 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 26.4.20

Mr. President - just 'shaddup'!    I gather that I may be a tad too late with my advice to Mr. President because I read that he has now given up his ad hoc press briefings.  It is, and has been for years, obvious that Donald Trump is not good at 'off the cuff' speechifying.  Alas, in the battle between his ego and his ability to express coherent thoughts, his ego has won - until now.  From now on, I gather - I hope! - he will confine his speechifying to words written for him by his advisors.  Were he to continue in his old vein he would need to wear a red nose and allow his pants to fall down regularly!

 

Think twice before moaning!   As an ex-soldier I can claim to be a fully-trained 'moaner 'n' groaner'!  Of course, given this bloody-bloody lockdown situation there is plenty about which to 'moan 'n' groan'.  However, this morning I happened upon one of those episodes from the superb series "The World at War".  This one featured the siege of Leningrad and suffice to say I will never 'moan 'n' groan' again - ever!

 

In which Oliver Kamm lives up to my high estimation of him:   I will not attempt to paraphrase his excellent essay over at the CAPX site lest I inadvertently make an error and his 'razor-laser-mind' catches it and he admonishes me - well, it used to happen 'back in the day'! Just do yourselves a favour and give him a read!

 

Tragic but interesting stats!   From the 'Hefferlump's' superb history, "Staring at God". By mid-1915 -

"It was estimated one officer in ten in the land forces thus far killed was an Old Etonian.  At an opposite extreme, 19,648 boys who had been through reformatories had served by late June 1915, almost 600 of whom had died: but three had won the Victoria Cross, twenty-five the Distinguished Conduct Medal and twenty were Mentioned in Dispatches.  Perhaps most remarkably, eight of those former miscreants had been commissioned."

 

No more Rumbles

 

 

Here's a health unto, er, The Spectator, actually!

The other day I gave three 'hurrahs' to celebrate the Queen's birthday but now I have another celebration to share with y'all.  Today will see the production of the 10,000th edition of the world's greatest magazine - The Spectator.  First published in 1827 and just imagine all those differing "events, dear boy, events" that it has covered over that period!  I have no idea what it was like in those earlier editions but I can say that over the past 30-40 years - I can't remember exactly when I began to read it - it has had an enormous influence on my thinking and my approach to all manner of things.  This is very much due to a string of superb editors - including Boris! - who on the whole took a very sensible, British approach to those 'damned events'!  I can truly say that my life would have been intellectually impoverished without it. Here is an intro from the current editor, Mr. Fraser Nelson:

A piece of history is made today: The Spectator becomes the first magazine in the world to produce a 10,000th issue. To mark this, we have a commemorative edition. Ian McEwan and Salman Rushdie join our columnists and critics to look not just at our now-surreal world, but at the magazine’s almost-as-surreal life and times. John R. MacArthur examines Graham Greene’s five-year stint as our film critic, and we also publish some of the covers we prepared for events that never happened (Corbyn’s 2019 election victory, Hillary Clinton’s presidential win and Jeremy Hunt’s Tory leadership triumph).

And if you’re hoping for Boris Johnson to come bounding back to No.10 to lead Britain out of lockdown, James Forsyth has some bad news: word from Chequers is that our former editor is in a cautious mood and will change nothing fast. So there’s more than ever for you to read, as we all wait.

A new history of The Spectator is published by David Butterfield (on sale today) and its first chapter underlines a point I’ve been thinking about a lot over these past few weeks. R.S. Rintoul, who set up The Spectator in 1828 [my emphasis], feared there would never be a proper commercial market for a magazine that rejected partisanship, and that cared as much about art, books and ideas as economics and foreign affairs. But it worked. Why? Because of its writers, of course, but mainly due to our extraordinary readers. You have not just given us this longevity, but made sure that our 10,000th issue will also be the biggest seller in our history. So from all of us, to you: thank you. And I hope you enjoy the issue.

Fraser Nelson, Editor

 

 

 

Flight Lieutenant Bob Barckley, born November 18 1920, died March 28 2020

Sorry if some of you were refused entry to his obit in the Telegraph so here it is - he deserves no less:

Flight Lieutenant Bob Barckley, who has died aged 99, was shot down over France but managed to evade capture and escape to Spain. On his return he rejoined his squadron and destroyed 12 V-1 flying bombs, making him one of the leading “aces” against the terror weapon.
On the morning of June 2 1943 Barckley and a colleague took off from West Malling in Kent on an intruder mission in their Typhoons of No 3 Squadron, each loaded with two 500lb bombs. Near the French/Belgian border he attacked a stationary train with his cannons, when the locomotive blew up. He then attacked three trucks as he headed towards Dunkirk where he hoped to find a “worthwhile target” for his bombs.
Approaching Bergues, he saw a long goods train and decided to attack. As he started his dive, he encountered intense anti-aircraft fire from a flak wagon on the train. He dropped his bombs, but as he pulled away his aircraft was hit, part of the starboard wing was shot away and the control column ceased to function.

He managed to flatten out as he bounced off some trees, missed some cottages and slammed into the ground at high speed; he was rendered unconscious. After recovering, he cleared the aircraft and escaped as German soldiers appeared.
He walked for 20 miles towards St Omer, and in a nearby village sought help at a church. A doctor attended to his wounds, and he was given food and clothing before being taken to a farm. After proving his identity to the local Resistance chief, he was taken to a “safe house” in Paris. Unknown to him, he was now in the hands of the Belgian-run “Comet” escape line.
After he had spent a few weeks in hiding, a young woman took him by train to a town near Biarritz before he cycled to a remote farmhouse near the Spanish border. He joined a party of other evaders and at nightfall the Basque guide “Florentino” led them across the Pyrenees to San Sebastian in Spain, where he was collected by car and taken to the British Embassy in Madrid.

He was moved to Gibraltar, and on August 16 he was flown to RAF Northolt in a Dakota. After debriefing in London he returned to his squadron and four days later resumed operational flying. Robert Edward Barckley was born on November 18 1920 in Brentford, Middlesex. In the summer of 1938 he joined a territorial battalion of the Royal Fusiliers and served as a despatch rider with the British Expeditionary Force. He was evacuated from Dunkirk on June 2 1940.
In December of that year he volunteered to transfer to the RAF and train as a pilot. After gaining his “wings” he joined No 3 Squadron operating as both night- and day-fighters with their all-black Hurricane IIs. Their main task was dawn and dusk patrols over the North Sea convoys.
The first time Barckley fired his guns in anger was in August 1942 during Operation Jubilee, the ill-fated combined operation against Dieppe. The squadron’s task was to strafe the German gun positions overlooking the beach.
The following day he attacked German fast patrol boats (E-boats) harassing Allied shipping. Later he again attacked the guns, and his fourth and final sortie was to cover the withdrawal. He would subsequently describe the Dieppe raid as “a shambles”.
After a few weeks flying night intruder missions, the squadron was withdrawn from the front line to re-equip with the Typhoon. On May 18 1943 the squadron lost five pilots, including the CO, during an attack against the Luftwaffe airfield at Poix.
Barckley did not fly on that mission but later he recalled: “The atmosphere was very sombre and contemplative. I had lost my closest friend on the squadron. But I remember also the 50-60 comrades lost before Poix and the two years that followed.” Two weeks later, Barckley was shot down near Dunkirk.
When he returned from Spain he found that his squadron had moved to Manston in Kent. On arrival he telephoned the CO, who refused to believe that it was him making the call. “No,” he responded, “it cannot be Bob Barckley, he was shot down, he is dead.”
Barckley managed to convince him that he was alive and waiting in the officer’s mess. There were celebrations to mark the squadron’s only pilot to be shot down and make it back to England.
Barckley was soon back flying sweeps over France until March 1944, when the squadron became the first to re-equip with the faster Tempest fighter-bomber. On May 8 he was flying an intruder mission over France when he spotted a bright light in the sky. He followed it and shot it down. He wrote in his log book: “chased airborne light from Evreux to Le Havre. Fired three bursts, went down in sea. Jet ship?” He later added: “Rather precognitive of me!”

The squadron moved to Newchurch on Romney Marsh in preparation for D-Day. After flying beachhead patrols, he later wrote: “The landing was an amazing sight – a tremendous armada. The fact I had been with the Resistance made me feel it very deeply.”
Shortly after D-Day the Germans began their V-1 offensive against England. With their powerful Tempests, No 3 Squadron and two others provided the main fighter defence. Over the next three months No 3 shot down 305 of them, the most by any squadron.
Barckley opened his account on June 18, and a day later shot down two more over Kent. By the middle of July he had destroyed nine.
On July 14 he had used up all his ammunition shooting one down when he saw a second. He was able to accelerate and catch the V-1 when he placed his wing tip under the stubby wing of the flying bomb and immediately flipped his control column and banked. The weapon tipped over and crashed into a wood near Sevenoaks.
By the end of August Barckley had destroyed 12 V-Is and shared another. He was twice Mentioned in Despatches, and in November 1944 was awarded the DFC for “his high degree of courage.”
In September he left for Normandy to join No 122 Wing, which moved eastwards as the Allied armies advanced. In January, flying from Volkel in the Netherlands, Barckley was wounded attacking a German airfield and returned to England to recover. When he was fit he was seconded to the Fleet Air Arm for test pilot and fighter instructor duties in Northern Ireland, before being released from the RAF. He was awarded the Territorial Efficiency Medal.

After the war Barckley worked in Northern Ireland and later became managing director of Coca-Cola Bottling. He retired to North Wales, where he enjoyed walking in the hills.
He was a long-standing and devoted member of the Aircrew Association, the RAF Escaping Society and its successor, the Escape Lines Memorial Society. He was a regular at annual conventions and he never forgot his gallant “helpers” of the Comet Line. He attended their reunions in Brussels and in 2014 made his last visit to meet the survivors.
Bob Barckley married Violet Craig in 1944. The marriage was dissolved. His second wife Eva predeceased him. A daughter from his first marriage survives him. A second daughter predeceased him.

Flight Lieutenant Bob Barckley, born November 18 1920, died March 28 2020

In which I indulge in some unrestrained hero worship

I suppose that growing up through and after WWII has developed an innate tendency in me to hero worship.  Of course, at that time there were a host of heroes to choose from our fighting services.  Today, I offer you Flight Lieutenant Bob Barckley, RAF, who has just died at the well-deserved age of 99.  I say "well deserved", which it was, but perhaps, given the risks he ran, 'incredible' might be more accurate!

 

Please read his 'obit' via my link.  Of course, he and his ilk were entirely responsible for me filling my school exercise books with drawings of Spitfires and Hurricanes instead of what I had been taught so, really, it was his sort who were responsible for my appalling scholastic record!!

 

 

 

Your Easter Rumble: 2020

That God-bloke's 'avin' a larf!   Well, really, we've had three months of non-stop drizzle, rain, drizzle, rain until we (alright then, me!) nearly went mad and then the most gloriously warm and sunny Easter arrives just as that bloody virus goes mad and keeps us all locked up indoors!

Meanwhile, 'over there' the Dems have gone mad!   It is difficult for an Englishman to discuss President Trump.  To us, he appears to be from Mars!  Not, mind you, that he appears to have done anything 'yuuuuuugely' wrong, indeed, just the opposite, no wars have been declared and, prior to this 'virus-thingie', the American economy seemed to be doing rather well.  Also, we Brits need to remind our insular selves that Trump's eccentricities are considered not in the least eccentric 'over there'.  In fact, just the opposite, they are much admired by zillions of his "fellow Americans" which means that the Democrats have an exceedingly tough job in trying to remove him from office next Autumn.  What do they do?  They pick a very decent, old 'codger' to whom you would offer your seat in a crowded train.  A 'good ol' boy' who shuffles along but has difficulty remembering what happened an hour ago - oh boy, do I know that feeling!  He has zero appeal to the zillions of young 'Lefties' to whom he should appeal if he is to stand any chance.  All he can rely on is Trump putting his (in)famous words into practice and 'grabbing some lady by the pussy'.  I think - I hope! - he knows not to do that!

The 'Hefferlump' on Hitler's biography:   Of course, I am referring to Simon Heffer who has a review of "Hitler Vol II: Downfall 1939-45" by Volker Ullrich about which I wrote with some enthusiasm a week or two back.  It is, of course, a total irony that I have paused in my reading of Herr Ullrich's book in order to read the 'Hefferlump's' superb history of the opening of WWI.  Even so, Herr Ullrich should not despair because despite my nausea in reading anything about that dolt and madman, I will return to it eventually. 

Pity the poor politician - oh go on, try!   One of them, either Boris or Raab, will have to take the decision as to when the 'lockdown' is to be lifted. The economic shambles that will follow this gross interruption to normal life will be 'yuuuuuuge' and the government will be blamed.  Equally, if the lifted lockdown results in a second outbreak of 'lurgi' then - guess what! - the government will be blamed!  Do I feel sorry for them?  Not in the slightest - they fought tooth and nail for the job so let them take the consequences!

For my e-pal, 'Whiters', a tale from Tom Stoppard:   'Whiters', as I am sure my regular readers will know, is a keen fanatical angler so I thought Stoppard's essay in The Spectator might amuse him:

The trout season opened on 1 April. I was given my first fly rod 70 years ago. Since moving to Dorset, my fishing has been on a chalk stream so small and so tricky that the only way to fish it is to walk up the middle in chest-waders with a seven-foot rod. The last time I was on the water I slipped and went under, since when I haven’t been sure whether I’m still fishing. Lockdown shelves the question for the time being. I wait for further instructions from the government.

 

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Your Easter Sunday Rumble

 

Americans really are nuts!   Or, to translate that into English English, 'Americans really are eccentric'!  This morning, idly flicking through the TV stations to avoid any mention of the dreaded 'c'-word, I came across a programme devoted to American cowboys indulging in bare-back riding on bulls!  And, I should add, these bulls had enormous, terrifying and exceedingly sharp horns!  The 'rides' only lasted on average approximately 5-secs but it surely must have been the longest and most uncomfortable 'ride' for any of the nutters brave young men who undertook it.  Apart from the dangers of a maddened, 20-ton bull leaping around like a Dervish, consider for a moment that there are no saddles!  Yeeeeees, quite!  As I said, they're all nuts - or perhaps, thinking about it, they lack any 'nuts' at all!

Sorry, JK, I can only give you "E for Effort":  I read somewhere this morning, although I'm blessed if I can remember where, that Arkansas only finished 4th in the gun ownership tables amongst the States of America!  Whatever, you do, JK, don't move to another State because your absence, along with your armoury, would drop Arkansas to 18th!

The 'chequered flag' falls on Sir Stirling Moss:  Truly one of the greats of motor racing. Alas, I never saw him race but his reputation will live on and on  . . .

 

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Your Easter Monday Rumble

 

What happens next?   I am tempted to reply "Who knows and his brother 'Fuck'!" but that, of course, would be crude and rude and unsuitable for a distinguished blog such as this - and I heard that!  Even so, attempting to work out how the world will be after this cataclysm is exceedingly tricky.  Obviously, there are going to be 'yuuuuuuuge' financial ramifications both on a national and personal level and the largest of them will be debt.  Happily, we can rely, to a certain extent, on 'greedy' capitalism re-asserting itself to the benefit of most of us in the long-term.  However, national and international debt, as always, will act as a dampener and when you throw in the priority of perceived national political interest as a priority over all else, then the difficulties of reaching recovery increase enormously.  What will be required from the international political leadership is wisdom and patience - 'yeeeeeeeeeeeeees', quite!

 

Non, Monsieur, do not pull that handle!    Amidst the 'doom 'n' gloom' this will provide a chuckle.  According to The Telegraph, a 64-year old, French pensioner was given a surprise flight in a French fighter plane.  It was arranged, secretly, by his, er, 'bon amis' and he felt impelled to accept it.  The Air Force pilot put the aircraft through some tight manouvres and the old man in the back reached for something to hang on to.  Alas, it was the trigger for the ejector seat which promptly blasted him out of the aircraft.  Quelle surprise!

 

Spare a thought for the 'luvvies':  Oh, go on, try!  I refer, of course, to all those actors and actresses who are now out of work and with absolutely minimal chances of employment in the near future.  Mind you, it's all happened before.  Poor old Will was forced to forsake London and retreat to Stratford during the plague.  Mind you, it gave him some respite and time to dream up some more inventions - so not all bad, then!

 

More Rumbles over the Easter period . . .

 

 

The A-bomb attacks on Japan: There was no choice!

There are still people who maintain that the American A-bomb attacks on Japan were a war crime.  I suspect that this book, if any of the dimwits ever read it, will change what passes for their minds!  The book is "Crucible of Hell: Okinawa, the Last Great Battle of the Second World War" written by Saul David which is reviewed in this week's 'Speccie'.  Apparently, Mr. David spells out in excruciating detail the sheer horror of the fight for control of Okinawa which the Japanese, soldiers and civilians, defended with implacable ferocity and fanaticism.  To be honest, I doubt I have the guts to read it:

The loss of life was horrendous. One US commander calculated that, once replacements had been taken into account, the casualty rate in his unit had been 185 per cent. [My emphasis]  A near unreadable passage describes an effort to recover the corpses of US Marines killed in the assault of Sugar Loaf Hill. One soldier recalls finding ‘bodies so decomposed they had started to turn green and were falling apart’. Another man ‘threw up after he tried to pull the body of a Marine and its arm came off at the shoulder. Eventually they put a head, torso, two arms, two legs in each poncho and left it to the Graves Registration to sort out the pieces later.’

At the same time, the US fleet around Okinawa was under constant and deadly attack by kamikaze pilots.  In one day they sank or badly damaged 26 US Navy ships.

President Roosevelt died before the battle was over but it is no wonder that his successor, President Truman, baulked at the idea of a land invasion of Japan.  Instead, he chose the 'nuclear option' - and quite right, too!

 

 

 

Starting a war is so easy but finishing it is rather more tricky

I am somewhat - no, totally! - engrossed in "Staring at God" by Simon Heffer.  It is rather like watching a recoding of a major, multiple car crash on a motorway.  You can see the first errors which, of course, multiply into even more errors and then the devil is out of the bottle and total, mad mayhem ensues!  It is difficult with historical "events, dear boy, events" to point the finger at exactly the event that kicked it off but I suppose in the case of WWI it is reasonable to accuse the Serbian nutter who decided to assassinate a particularly useless Austro-Hungarian Prince.

Cue: a chance for Austro-Hungary to give those damned 'uppity' Serbs a slap!  The threat of that, of course, provided the 'Rooskies', whose useless leader was wobbling on his throne, a chance to stand up for those, er, 'plucky little Serbs' - and, of course, fellow Slavs.  At which point, the Austrians can appeal to their German 'Big Brother' for support.  The French, au naturellement,  instantly offered their services to their Russian partners with whom they had a treaty designed, of course, to keep Germany in check!  Meanwhile, the Brits steered well clear on their island fortress because, dammit, they had an Empire to look after!

But then, like the well-oiled parts of a machine-gun, the move of one part automatically moved another which then click-started yet another and, hey-ho, we were all off to the races!  Of course, for the people concerned at the time, only a tiny few had any inkling of what was to ensue but soon enough they learned - the hardest of hard ways.

"The pity of it lago; oh, Iago, the pity of it".

 

 

 

Perhaps John Maynard Keynes should have been promoted to General!

I may have mentioned before that a kindly neighbour passes me his old copies of The Times Saturday Review in exchange for my old copy of The Spectator - and yes, he is definitely getting the better of the deal!  Even so, I am always keen to peruse the book reviews and there was a particularly interesting one in my latest copy.  It deals with the latest book by Victor Davis Hanson entitled: The Second World Wars: How the First Global Conflict was Fought and Won.

According to Mr. Hanson, 'it woz the fact'ries wot won it!'  According to the review:

Victor Davis Hanson is a brutally pragmatic historian who cuts through myth and hype. Stripped of emotion, his war is reduced to simple equation: "Victory … was a morality tale of production besting killing: those who made more stuff beat those who killed more people".  Stated simply, 60 million people died "to confirm that the United States, the Soviet Union and Great Britain were far stronger … than Germany, Japan and Italy … a fact that should have been self evident".

Well, I am sure that Mr. Davis Hanson will be relieved to know that I agree with him entirely!  As I remarked a few days ago when I began reading Hitler's biography, it is extra-ordinary that none of the German 'intelligentsia', military or civilian, raised the economic weakness of Germany versus Great Britain (and its empire), America and Russia.  

What a bunch of 'Dummkopfs'!

And what is the Japanese for a 'Dummkopf'? 

 

 

 

In the middle of a disaster, try reading about an even greater one!

I told  you yesterday that I was beginning to read a new book "Staring at God" by Simon Heffer which chronicles the diplomatic, strategic and political manouvres that preceded WWI.  It is, as you can imagine, unbelievably depressing, so much so that I care even less about this virus-thingie that has everyone in a panic!

Step by step by step all the 'great' leaders of Europe followed the lead of the maniacal mini-leaders of Europe as these jumped-up poltroons flounced their hour upon the stage.  Everyone in what might be called the European 'intelligentsia' knew with certainty that each step along the path would lead inevitably to a massive and disastrous war the like of which the world had never experienced before.

And yet ... and yet ... they did nothing!  The so-called 'Great Powers' were led by their silly noses over a cliff by ultra-stupid, short-sighted men who were not fit to run a town council!  At least in WWII we had a genuine lunatic we can blame for the near apocalypse but prior to WWI the blame can be shared everywhere and by everyone.

Where was God when we needed Him?  

 

 

This book is an absolute and essential 'MUST READ'!

I refer to "Staring at God" by Simon Heffer.  This morning I was lucky enough to catch an interview with the 'Hefferlump', as I fondly call him, and there is no doubt that if you want to read the 'accident report' on the national 'car crash' that shattered Britain then this is a 'must read'!  I have long admired the 'Hefferlump' and in the TV interview he demonstrated, yet again, his acute intelligence and learning.  Should you doubt me - you wouldn't dare! - then read the review by another superb historian, Andrew Roberts in The Telegraph.  

"This war has caught us at our worst,” wrote Margot Asquith, the prime minister’s wife, in her diary on October 26 1914, “and now that shrapnel is killing an entire generation, we are left staring at God.” Simon Heffer, for this comprehensive history of Britain during the First World War, has chosen his title wisely. In the exactly five years between the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the Versailles Treaty, the British people were tested as never before, and what they saw of the Almighty – or the absence of Him – changed the country fundamentally and forever.

Staring at God is the first serious and really wide-ranging history of the Home Front during the Great War for decades. Scholarly, objective and extremely well-written, it describes how, in Heffer’s words, “the government and people of a great naval and mercantile power, shaped by the tenets of laissez-faire, broke with traditions of their culture, liberties, doctrines and customs, and adapted to total war”.

As far as I can tell, the 'Hefferlump' takes no prisoners which is entirely right, fitting and proper given the utter uselessness of most of our political and military (non)leadership.  Roberts again:

David Lloyd George, popularly known at the time as “The Man Who Won the War”, is here presented as “the man who very nearly lost it”. Heffer accuses him of “breathtaking dishonesty” and quotes with approbation Clementine Churchill’s description of him to her husband Winston as “the direct descendant of Judas Iscariot”. Lloyd George’s inability to control the generals, and principally Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig’s insistence on costly frontal assaults such as the Somme and Passchendaele offensives, is heavily criticised.

I still haven't finished Hitler's biography and anyway I am sick of it, so I'm off downstairs to find my Kindle and order up Simon Heffer's book.

ADDITIONAL:   Oh dear, the first casualty of war history, to be precise the one just published by the 'Hefferlump', is, alas, Lord Grey, the British Foreign Secretary who hitherto has been the subject of some (mild) hero worship from me!  Dammit, I know war is hell but reading about it can be pretty damned hellish, too!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble 29.1.20

Life's an itch!   And no, that is not a mis-spelling!  I haven't, as yet, caught that impertinent bug so I have nothing serious to complain about but even so, being a grouchy, old 'geezer', complaining is my default mode!  It is the increasing list of minor irritations that are getting under my skin.  For example, today 'they' buggered about with the clocks which has thrown me into total confusion!  Not, mind you, that my life is exactly run to a tight time schedule!

 

Frankly, I'm delighted not to be in charge:   For a start, it leaves me free to 'grump 'n' grouch' which, as you may have n0ticed, is my default mode.  Secondly, I am uneasily aware that I would not be able to take decisions with a constant influx of changing advice based on changing information.  So good luck with all that, Don and Boris, just do your best!

 

In case you're worried about me:   And I heard that!  Down 'ere, in 'zunny Zummerzet' I am assured by 'Her Majesty's Daily Telegraph' that I live in one of the lowest infection rates in the country, only 31 confirmed cases in a population of 5.5 million.  That, of course, is only right, fitting and proper!

 

But is it all 'blx', anyway?   According to Peter Hitchens it is!  Read his article and judge for yourselves!

 

Even by British standards the weather is bonkers!   For the first two months of the year it did nothing but rain, rain, rain and then rain some more!  In recent days we have 'enjoyed' some brilliant sunshine but our smiles froze on our faces as we had to put up with non-stop freezing winds straight off the arctic circle.  Dammit, enough is enough!

 

This sums up the European, er, 'Union:   From the Daily Telegraph:

When Italy invoked the EU’s formal disaster procedure with desperate calls for protective gear and ventilators, no country responded. Germany and France instead imposed export bans. The EU’s single market did not exist when push came to shove.

 

Vomit-inducing, why do I read it?   I refer to the biography of the late and utterly useless Adolph Hitler which I purchased a few weeks ago.  I take occasional dips into it and each time it leaves me grinding my teeth in fury and disgust.  Not, mind you, entirely at his maniacal stupidity but also that of his Generals and political advisors who, without doubt, were the biggest collection of 'toadies', cowards and dimwits the world has ever seen.  Pass the sick-bag!

 

 

No more rumbles 

 

 

So, what is there to say . . . ?

'Sweet Fanny Adams' is the only answer I can come up with which is absolute torture for a self-important, opinionated, old bore like me!  Politics has withered on the vine and the only subject of what passes for news these days is that damned 'bugaboo' which dominates all the headlines.  Even so, there was one small headline in The Telegraph that caught my eye this morning.  They are running a daily total of infection and death stats in the UK.  Are you ready for a shock?  Then read this:

Total Infections in the UK:  1543

Total deaths in the UK:  55

Eh?  What?  Is that all?  But I was expecting to have to step over the bodies in the streets when I next ignore Boris's order for me not to leave my home because I'm 80 years of age!  (Oh yes, Boris, and are you going to do my shopping for me?  Thought not!)  I urge you all to read Gavin Mortimer's excellent piece at The Spectator today in which he revisits Samuel Pepys' plague diaries of 1655.  Now, that was a proper plague and a half!  Don't worry, you won't catch anything!

 

 

 

Zee view from Berlin: circa 1940

I have mentioned before that I am reading Volker Ullrich's biography of Adolph Hitler and it is fascinating, not least for the chance to view WWII from a totally opposite direction.  Through my increasingly long life I have read an enormous number of books on WWII but, in confirmation of the  truism that it is the victor who gets to write the history, they have all been from our side.  Of course, the best of them seek to explain what was going on 'over there' as 'we' fought our war but when the central character of the history is actually Adolph Hitler then the view changes.

It also makes me ponder on the choices Hitler and his Generals had before them at different times - not that the Generals had much say in the decisions!  Yes, Hitler was 'bonkers' but it is amazing how many of the German leadership, military as well as civilian, went along with his lunacy.  Needless to say, the more incredibly successful he was in the early stages, the more any criticism was silenced.  Also, it is fascinating to view Europe as seen from Berlin!  There was a sort of logic to Hitler's plans and the fact that he was just intelligent enough to take one bite at a time hid the fact that his over-all ambition to swallow the whole of Europe was quite mad.  That idea alone demonstrated his lunacy but as 'success' built on 'success', first with Czechoslovakia, then Poland, then France, then Scandinavia, virtually none of the so-called German 'intelligentsia, let alone the people, ever had the courage to shout "HALT!"

I will add one last thought which is the way this Germanic view of history emphasises how absolutely and totally critical it was to the entire continent, or even the world, for us Brits to stand firm and defiant.  Of course, all of us have long admired the courage of those Battle of Britain fighter pilots, and the numerous 'brainiacs' who invented and built the radar network but this book makes it startling clear how absolutely crucial they were.

 

 

 

In which my 'flabber' is well and truly 'gasted'!

I have mentioned before that I am slowly but steadily ploughing through a biography of Adolph Hitler - yeeeeeeees, quite!  Of course, it is now quite clear to everyone that Hitler, himself, was a shouty-shrieky lunatic who should have been locked up and the key tossed in the Rhine!  However, it is the people around him that arouse my fascination.  The squalid gangsters who rose on his coat-tails via the Nazi party are not worth a second thought but it is, so to speak, the 'outsiders' who surrounded him in the armed forces and in the bureaucracy who are worth some study.

I have just read the reports of his pre- or early - war, high-level meetings with the men in his High Command and the sundry civil servants who actually kept the Nazi machine running.  At several of the meetings Hitler made it absolutely clear, in the simplest of terms, that his intentions when he conquered various European nations was to decimate their populations, ridding himself of the sick, the elderly and the infants - and, of course, the Jews.  The only people who were to be saved were the young and fit and they would be despatched to Germany as slave labour.

Now, his audiences, for the most part were educated people from the middle and upper classes all of whom were of the Christian faith which they would have been versed in from their childhood.  Virtually none of them offered either overt, or even covert, opposition.  In particular, the senior officers of the Armed Services, when they realised that this madman was intent on taking their country into war against virtually the entire world, failed to take any action.  They must have known that there would only be one outcome - utter defeat and destruction for their beloved country!  Of course, to attempt any sort of opposition would have placed them, and their families, in certain danger of death but these were the men who, in their professional lives, never ceased to prate on about the nobility of courage and sacrifice.

What's the German for 'pass the sick-bag'?

 

It's that creepy coincidence-thingie - again!  No sooner had I published the post above on the subject of Volker Ullrich's biography of Hitler which I am part way through, when Andrew Stuttaford publishes a review in the National Review of another Hitler biography which has just appeared.  I am glad that in passing he refers kindly to Volker Ullrich's earlier biography which I am reading now.

 

 

 

Oh no, war just broke out!

It's possible, depending on the skill of Herr Volker Ullrich - no, me neither until this morning! - that I might go on the 'missing list' over the next few days … weeks? … months? … because I have just purchased his latest book "Hitler: Downfall 1939-1945".  Apparently, Herr Volker has already published Part I of his biography but I think I'll give it a miss because I really do not wish to know about the early days of that maniacal twerp and all the various 'scrotes' he gathered around him.  However, I have lost count of the number of books on WWII that I have read over the last 60+ years but I have never read one from, so to speak, Hitler's point of view.

It was a spur of the moment decision having just read a review of it in today's Telegraph.  Of course, ignorant ex-Corporals like me, and, er, Corporal Hitler, are always eager to pan our own Generals and political leaders for the dimwits many of them were but somehow we forget that the biggest dumkopf of them all was Adolf Hitler.  I will let you know how it goes!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 16.02.20

Normal service is restored, well, what passes for normal service! And NO, I did not enjoy a long lay in this morning!  It was all the fault of that Bill Gates because Microsoft decided they wanted to, er, up-date my computer.  Fair enough - but it took all bloody morning!  Do get a grip, Gates!  

 

Dammit! Hitchens keeps telling uncomfortable truths:   Today he shines a light on the, er, 'lady', Mary Lou McDonald, who (allegedly) leads the Sinn Fein party which to most people's horror and disgust did exceptionally well in the recent Irish elections.  Lest we be fooled - again! - he reminds of some of her history:

In August 2003, Ms McDonald stood willingly beside the grisly apostle of violence and convicted IRA bomber Brian Keenan. But that wasn't all. Both were there to 'pay respect' at the statue of one of the nastiest people who ever lived.

The memorial to Sean Russell in Dublin's Fairview Park is, as far as I know, the only monument to a Nazi collaborator still standing in democratic Europe.
Russell, the IRA's Chief of Staff in 1939, travelled on the eve of the Second World War to Nazi Germany to offer his services to Hitler. They gave him the use of a villa in Berlin, and provided him with a car and chauffeur.

What can one say except 'pass the sick-bag'!  In the meantime, of course, there is a good chance that Sinn Fein, a 'party' run by and for murderous gangsters will form part of the government of an EU country.

 

It's decision time, 'DomBo':  That's the big difference between 'wannabe' political leaders and those actually up to their elbows (if not higher!) in political leadership.  The ever-stern Jeremy Warner in The Telegraph puts the difficulty this way:

Is this a tax-cutting or big-spending administration? Is it economic competitiveness that most exercises the prime minister as we head towards the challenges of Brexit – in which case he would slash taxes to attract investment and talent – or is it “levelling up” the regions, which requires big spending on education, training, the underprivileged and the agglomeration of uneconomic towns and cities into more viable wholes.

Gotta choose, 'DomBo', but please don't choose both!

 

The death of the BBC is about to be announced - drinks on me!   Not that part of me is not sad.  Since wartime childhood, the BBC has been part of my life.  It is only in recent years that gradually I have noticed the changes.  It is no longer fair and balanced, or even truthful but has gradually morphed into a 'woke', Leftist, Greenie broadcaster for the purposes of pumping out it's own 'agitprop'.  The fact that I am forced by law to pay for this garbage plus the 'yuuuuuuuge' salaries of the smug, 'Leftie' broadcasters is making me feel ill, so the quicker 'DomBo' pull the trigger, the better!

 

Oh my 'Gaard', not George Washington!    Is no-one safe from those prying historians?  Let me begin by confessing my almost total ignorance of George Washington.  As far as I am concerned he was a damned traitor who took arms against His Majesty and, compounding his treachery, he won, dammit!  Anyway, according to The Mail, he really was a bit of a rotter who ill-treated his slaves, stole their teeth for his own use and used every dodge in the book to avoid setting them free!  Finally:

Perhaps the most hard-hitting revelation in the disproved myths about Washington is that his famous 'I cannot tell a lie' line to his father when felling the family's cherry tree is completely fictitious.
The tale was made up by Mason Locke Weems, a broke itinerant parson and bookseller, for the 19th century for the book 'The Life of Washington'. 

Shockin', shockin'!  I'm sure today's American politicians would not stoop to such falsehood!

 

And talking of America:   Can anyone tell me who Michael Bloomberg is?  I gather that he is eye-wateringly wealthy and is intent on buying the Democrat party!  Is this "A Good Thing" or "A Bad Thing"?

 

Keep your eyes on Germany!   I keep reading bits and pieces about the state of the State of Germany.  Matters are in a state of flux as 'Mutti' Merkel prepares to hang up her handbag and not all of them sound too good!

 

 

No more Rumbles 

 

 

I am tested and will probably fail!

In this week's 'Speccie', Matthew Parris raises the exceedingly uncomfortable notion of 'evil' following last month's 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.  Of course, to most of us 'soppy' Brits, that ghastly 'murder machine' is the very epitome of evil but that may be because not much is made of Stalin's incomparable efforts in Russia and Mao's in China!

Be that as it may, Mr. Parris is surely right to wonder at the fact that so many, er, 'ordinary' people joined in the mass slaughter of fellow human beings.

I asked myself the age-old question: why? Why, how, could apparently ordinary German citizens have connived in this obscene butchery, assisted in it, or (in most cases) just turned away.

Answer came there none, until he was advised to read: "Ordinary Men" by Christopher R. Browning; subtitle 'Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland'.  Mr. Parris, being made of sterner stuff than me, accepted the challenge.  In the book, Mr. Browning relates his search of all the available documents from the Hitler period and the judicial records which followed.  He also makes clear that the men involved in the slaughter were not Nazi fanatics but ordinary people roped in for duty.

The personal testimonies are remarkably candid. The mission imposed upon these men was to kill Polish Jews, largely indiscriminately: not in extermination camps but town by town, village by village, in what amounted to systematised pogroms. Usually they’d herd their victims to field or forest nearby, shoot them, and leave the bodies. But often enough they’d execute Jews where they found them — at home, or in town streets or squares. Over the years this battalion killed tens of thousands.

I cannot possibly summarise Browning’s findings. Read the book! It’s shocking — in a sense even worse than concentration camp stories because the contact was so personal, man-to-man, man-to-woman, man-to-child, shooting in the neck, shooting brains out, again and again and again, all day, every day.

I should read that book, dammit, because in a way I feel it is a duty to the memory of those men, women and children who were slaughtered wholesale.  But will I?  I'll let you know in due course!

 

 

 

This is one book I haven't the courage to read

I'm not talking about physical courage but moral courage!  One word is enough to disclose the cause of my unease - Dresden!  I have just read a review of the book "Dresden: The Fire and the Darkness" by Sinclair MacKay.  It is reviewed, carefully, by Christopher Priest in this week's Spectator.  It is, I suppose, 'the bombing raid that dare not speak its name'!  I have known about it for around 60-odd years but steered clear of digging into it too deeply.  I understand, and to a certain extent I sympathise with the perpetrators, even the ghastly Air Marshall 'Bomber' Harris, but it should not have happened.

 

Dresden after the Allied bombing raids of 13 to 15 February 1945: an estimated 25,000 civilians were killed

 

It was, in effect, a war crime.  There was nothing of military or strategic value in the city which was, in fact, crammed with refugees from the many other bombed cities of Germany plus countless others fleeing from the Russian advance from the East.  It was a war crime executed with military precision in that low-flying Mosquitoes were used to plant flares to mark out the City centre for the fleets of heavy bombers which followed.  The next day, the American Air Force took over and completed the utter destruction of the ancient city and of several more thousands of civilians and refugees.

 

Nothing I have written is intended to blight the reputations of the unbelievably courageous air crews involved who were, to quote a phrase, simply obeying orders.  And, as anyone with a modicum of common-sense will know, "war is hell!" and should be avoided as much as is possible.  There is no way that WWII could be avoided but I do believe that the raid on Dresden should have been.

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes my ignorance is excruciatingly embarrassing

I really must stop reading those 'bloody-bloody' history books which embarrass me so often.  At the moment I am reading an excellent history entitled "Providence Lost: The Rise and Fall of Oliver Cromwell's Protectorate" by Paul Wray.  An excellent book helped along by the occasional dry wit of the author.  Oliver Cromwell is not a man I have ever studied before and as this history received some excellent reviews I thought it was time to get down to it! 

I was expecting yet another chapter of head-chopping which seemed to be the sport of the day in 17th century Britain!  Indeed, there is plenty of that but what made me sit back in astonishment was information about the Jews!  I had not realised that the Jews had been totally expelled from Britain in 1290 by Edward I.  In the 1650s, Cromwell had two imperatives.  First he needed, so to speak, to 'spread the word of the Lord' and thereby convert those 'sinners' who failed to accept it.  The other imperative was, like British governments throughout the ages, the need for money, in this case, to help pay for his intended war against those Spanish Catholic heretics who owned all those gold and silver mines in South America.  An influx of wealth-creating Jews would be invaluable to pay for more ships and soldiers - and also provide a target for, er, 're-educating' them in the words of the Lord!

So far, I am not too impressed with Oliver Cromwell's government but if he was responsible for enriching - in all senses of that word - the fabric of British society then let us immediately erect a statue of him in Trafalgar Square!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 26.01.20

A cheerful start - for a change!   Until this morning I had never heard of 'The Windermere Children' but apparently it is the subject of a programme on BBC2 tomorrow night.  It tells the story of 300 or so Jewish children rescued from German concentration camps at the end of the war and relocated to a new camp near Windermere in the Lake District.  Gradually they were rehabilitated mentally and physically following the unspeakable horrors through which they had - just! - managed to survive.  You can read about it here:

https://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/uknews/the-true-story-of-the-ww2-holocaust-survivors-who-became-the-windermere-children/ar-BBZkPGS?ocid=spartanntp

 

Go, Rupe, baby, go!   Excellent news this morning  to the effect that my 'ex-Best Friend Rupe' Murdoch is planning to open a new radio station to compete with the BBC's Radio4.  Yes, I know the ads will be irritating but I would rather put up with them than listen to the tendentious, 'woke' crap that emanates from Radio4.  Incidentally, 'Rupe' is my best ex-best friend because years ago he ramped up the price of his TV news channel forcing me to leave.

 

The 'Heffalump' in praise of John Profumo:   He, of course, was the naughty boy caught out in the early '60s for his dalliance with the equally naughty Christine Keeler.  I always remember him because, before his fall from grace, I actually met him - for about 3.5 seconds!  I was in a bed in the RAF hospital in Bahrein - no, no, not sick, just skiving and making the most of the most minor of injuries - and as Minister for War he was inspecting the base.  Anyway, he shook hands and wished me well.  I mention all this because the 'Heffalump' has a kindly and forgiving article about the man in The Telegraph today.  Profumo,  was blessed with a superb and wise wife in the form of the film actress Valerie Hobson.  Whatever else, you have to say that he had good taste in women!

 

Oh dear, when 'allies' fall out!   I am a regular follower of both The American Thinker site and The National Revue site.  Between them they give me a Conservative overview of the American political scene.  The Thinker from a very pro-Trump point of view and the NR from a much more doubting and critical standpoint.  Today, The Thinker takes a swipe at The Revue and thus neatly summarises the divide in the conservative view of President Trump.

 

I told you they were 'psycho-babblers'!    For years now I have sneered at what I always refer to as "psycho-babblers".  I am not suggesting that everything they say is tripe, for example, there are, I believe, broad categories of mental states that can - with care! -  be grouped together to aid recognition and to allow some serious scientific enquiry and even treatment.  However, much of what is spouted on the subject is self-serving crap!  Take for example the late David Rosenhan, a 'psycho-babbler' of the first order, as detailed in a book review in this week's Spectator.  Read it and weep!  That phoney Freud has much to answer for.

 

'Theodore Dalrymple' gives Prince Harry a slap:   The volume of words spewed forth in recent weeks since the birth of Harry's and Meghan's son is monumental.  As you would expect, most of it was piffle but thanks to 'TakiMag' the shrewd and highly intelligent 'Dr. Dalrymple' has published his take, not on the birth itself but on the name chosen by his parents for the new 'nipper' - Archie.  Even I, resolutely uninterested as I am in the doings of this, er, particular family, raised an eyebrow when it was announced.  As per usual, Dr. Dalrymple puts what pass for my thoughts into clear, straightforward words.  Give it a read!

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

 

 

 

A grim week ahead!

Yes, indeed, I am not looking forward to next week. It will be the 75th anniversary of the capture of Auschwitz, forever a bleak symbol of 'Man's inhumanity to Man'.  It will, of course and quite properly, be the subject of 'meeja' attention but I will have to grit my teeth to take it on.  Not that it is the worst example of inhumanity, history abounds with them.  Even so, there is something utterly and completely revolting in the sight of men - and women! - herding other men and women and children into gas chambers to complete an industrial-style elimination of them.  Each time I catch a glimpse of old photos showing the inmates of Auschwitz with their stoical faces pressed against the wire I feel . . . well, actually, I can't quite summarise my feelings . . . a sort of mixture of rage and pity and impotence.  

Not a good week to look forward to!

 

 

 

Pearl Harbour - 'hoonoo?' Kilsoo Haan and Pres. Roosevelt did!

That's the problem for spies, no-one quite believes them!  Thus it was for the late Kilsoo Kenneth Haan (1900-1976).  I must confess I had never heard of him before I read a review in The Spectator of his biography, "Action Likely in Pacific: Secret Agent Kilsoo Haan, Pearl Harbor and the Creation of North Korea" by John Koster.  Kilsoo Haan was an American of mixed Japanese and Korean stock who possessed a network of informants throughout South East Asia during the '30s which allowed him to build up a clear and concise forecast of Japanese actions up to an including the attack on Pearl Harbour.  He passed this on to the highest echelons of the American government including Pres. Roosevelt himself.  The President chose to ignore it!  

I apologise to my American friends but I really do think a complete review of Roosevelt's presidency is long overdue!

 

 

 

It woz 'Ollie' wot dunnit!

See, he wasn't all bad, that Oliver Cromwell.  Yes, perhaps he did decapitate rather too many of the dreaded 'Peeps', as well as kick off a civil war but in 1644 he stood up tall for all grumpy, old men and banned Christmas!  This, of course, caused lots of 'likkle kiddie-winkies' to burst into tears, so well done 'Ollie', me old mate! 

 

 

I am obliged to the witty and wise, and excellent actor, Mr. Simon Callow, who writes in today's Mail providing a history of the exceedingly dodgy passage of Christmas through the ages.  Of course, whilst I might come across as a grumpy, old, anti-Christmas curmudgeon, the fact is that, on the whole, I approve even if its worst excesses  do irritate enormously.  Even so, and particularly in this snapping, snarling era, any event that promotes goodwill and friendliness, albeit in a shortest of short truces, is to be welcomed.

 

 

Never trust those damned, smoothie Brits!

A fascinating article via Zero Hedge which originated at The American Conservative.com.  It details the, er, 'dastardly deeds' of William Stephenson (a Canadian actually) who in 1940 - a rather sweaty time for Britain! - was despatched to the USA by Churchill in order to set up - dare I say it? - a 'fake news factory' to help persuade the American 'Peeps' to give up their really rather sensible insistence on neutrality as the rest of the world went to hell in a handcart!

Stephenson knew his way around the 'meeja' which barely differed in its crookedness then, to what it is today!  Also, given Roosevelt's quiet determination to get America into the war, he was content to allow Stephenson to pump his fake news into the American system.  Of course, it was not simply love for Britain and dislike of Hitler that moved Roosevelt but his absolute determination to use the disaster of yet another world war to provide an opportunity to create a new, American world order.

So, let's hear it for 'Fake News'! 

 

 

A 'yuuuuuuuuuge' 'THANK YOU' to JK

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bd8_vO5zrjo

My American political/military/history correspondent and, I almost forgot, also my Chief Archivist, 'JK', sent me the above link because of my utter fascination with the Battle of Midway.  Whilst I recognise that not all of you share my fascination with matters military, this battle was utterly crucial in the war in the Pacific against Japan.  Given its, er, 'fluid' nature - well, dammit, it was a naval/air battle! - and therefor the myriad 'ifs, buts and maybes' - this computer generated illustration is superb! 

Even so, for anyone coming fresh to it, I would advise reading a couple of books on the subject first!  I would recommend "MIDWAY: The Battle that doomed Japan" by Mitsuo Fuchida and Masatake Okumiya which, just like the YouTube presentation above, gives a Japanese perspective to the battle.  For an American view, try "Miracle at Midway" by Gordon Prange.  In its way, this single battle sums up the nature of warfare in which tiny incidents and factors can tip a battle this way or that.

Sorry to bore on but  . . .

 

 

 

Tarawa - HOONOO?

That will compete with numerous other titles to my blog posts as being one of the most incomprehensible - sorry!  I will try to explain.  I have recently stumbled across the Smithsonian Channel on my TV which seems to be totally concentrated on American battles in WWII.  Thus, given the almost total crap everywhere else it has become a favourite of mine.  This afternoon I chanced upon a documentary covering the battle for the island of Tarawa which the American Marines invaded in 1943 as the beginning of their thrust northwards to Japan.

Ferocious and bloody hardly suffices to describe this action in which the Japanese had prepared well and the Americans were, for the most part, beginners.  Even so, at huge cost and with unbelievable courage the Marines eventually succeeded.  Undoubtedly, lessons were learned which will have assisted in the numerous repetitions required in this Island-hopping strategy.  Unfortunately, at this beginning it was clear that the tactical thinking and planning of the Marine Corps staff was pathetic, if not downright useless.  According to Wiki:

Writing after the war, General Holland Smith, who in his biography was highly critical of the Navy, commented:

Was Tarawa worth it? My answer is unqualified: No. From the very beginning the decision of the Joint Chiefs to seize Tarawa was a mistake and from their initial mistake grew the terrible drama of errors, errors of omission rather than commission, resulting in these needless casualties.

Thus it is with most armies and as always 'lessons are learned' but at what a huge cost!  I salute the memory of those Marines lost at Tarawa.

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 17.11.19

Those damned Dambusters!   I am somewhat over-hyped because whilst slurping my morning 'drain-clear' (aka: my fresh orange juice) this morning, I read that part of Max Hasting's superb history of the 'Dambuster' raid in which the actual attacks went in.  I found myself gripping the arm of my chair!

Can you imagine flying that behemoth, straight and true at night, just 60' above the water, with German AA fire streaming in at you?  The courage and the skill required defies belief!  Mind you, it is worth pausing to also remark on the courage and sense of duty of the likes of Cpl. Schulze, the son of a local farmer, who remained at his AA post on top of the dam desperately trying to defend against this seemingly endless line of incoming bombers all of whom were firing back at him!  All that courage, all that skill, all that scientific expertise - and all for the purposes of mutual destruction!  One can only echo Othello: "But yet the pity of it, Iago! O Iago, the pity of it! "  And it's worth remembering that it was very much and Anglo-Saxon enterprise.  The crews were an ad hoc mix of British and British  Empire men from around the globe and also included an American (Joe McCarthy - no, not that one!) who had volunteered for the RAF before his country was involved.  It's a terrific book - treat yourself - or others - at Christmas!

 

Poor old Oliver Kamm, up the creek without a paddle!   As regular readers know, I have not just a soft spot for Oliver Kamm but admiration.  I remember way back in the day, long before he rose to the dizzy heights as a leader writer for The Times, when he was just another blogger, er, like me, really! (Well, not quite like me because he has brains, intelligence and learning and all that sort of thing!)  Anyway, I have, sort of, followed his progress since then and occasionally picked up his 'scribblings'.  Like today, for example, over at CAPX where the poor chap finds himself all at sea now that he accepts the cold truth that his lifetime of love and support for the Labour party needs must end.  He appears to be dismissive of the 'il-Lib-non-Dems' and somehow I cannot see him ever voting for Boris, so the question remains, who will he vote for next month?

 

We can't see ya' but we can hear ya and smell ya'!   According to the Sheriff's Office in Clay County, Missouri, a runaway dope-dealer suspect hid himself away so well they could not find him.  Alas and alack, he could not control his wind and let forth an almighty loud and long fart which gave him away.  The story does not say how long the sheriff had to wait up-wind before carrying out the arrest.  Possibly the suspect had over-indulged in a slug of Barney Magroo's finest!

 

Movin' along from Missouri to Louisiana:   Bad news for 'The Donald' in a State Governorship election in Louisiana.  The incumbent Democrat who took the 'Repubs' by surprise by winning the previous election, now he's done it again to win a second term.  This, despite three visits from 'The Donald' and a 'yuuuuge' campaign by the GOP who were anxious to regain what they considered to be a safe Republican state.  Not the best pre-Christmas gift Mr. President was hoping for!

 

Does anyone really know the real Boris?   I ask because I haven't a clue!  But next month I will probably help vote him in as Prime Minister.  What will he actually do?  The only 'hints', broadcast across the 'meeja' at full volume, is that he will spend money like a drunken sailor.  I must ask my e-pal, 'JK', how that works in practice but I fear the worst.  Part of the problem is that I have considerable difficulty in understanding what he is saying via that gurgling, stuttering,stammering burble that sounds terribly posh but is mostly indecipherable!  Mind you, I have no problem understanding 'Jezza's' agit-prop and I tremble!  Alas, when it comes to Boris, all we can do is hope for the best but expect the worst and comfort ourselves with the thought that his 'worst' is infinitely preferable to Jezza's best!

 

No more rumbles 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 10.11.19

Remembrance Day:   An article in today's Mail took me by surprise.  They conducted a survey of some of those very 'foreign fields' on which British soldiers perished.  What was extraordinary was the fact that local people still tend these graves lovingly, some of them despite the fact that their history of inter-action with the British army was not always, shall we say, amicable!

In the heart of the African bush, Kokou Esso, an impoverished villager, carefully sweeps the grave of a British upper-class Army officer. It is well-tended, pristine and, most of all, remembered

Even in Russia the graves of various British servicemen who died there are still cared for - including the ones who perished in the abortive attempt to oppose the Bolshevik revolution!  For what it is worth, my grateful thanks to all of them.

 

Incoming 'SoD':   Posting might be a tad erratic today because I have it on high authority that 'SoD' might be visiting.  NOTE TO SELF: Don't mention the 'Br' word!

 

That Peter Hitchens is tossing grenades again!   This time his target is Winston Churchill as war leader who is, of course, a 'yuuuuuge' target and therefor fairly easy to hit!  Even so, Hitchens is in receipt of some fairly heavy counter-battery fire from some distinguished historians.  I will not attempt to summarise the arguments but I will provide you with the links so that you WWII buffs can study them at your leisure.  This is his opening salvo in today's Mail:

700 people came to see this talk about my book 'The Phoney Victory' in Edinburgh . Now you can share the experience

At last! The recording of my appearance last August at the Edinburgh Book Festival to discuss my widely-ignored book ‘The Phoney Victory’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kb8A4AGKGkg&feature=youtu.be

The interviewer is Ruth Wishart, to whom I offer my thanks . Likewise to the Edinburgh Book Festival, the only major book festival which showed any interest in this book .

I think the unfairness and idiocy of the boycott of silence to which the book has been subjected by festivals and reviewers was well-illustrated by the fact that 700 people attended this event, and I missed my train home because so many people wanted me to sign books afterwards.

I have addressed two other private events about this book and on both occasions received an enormous amount of interest. It is not because this book is a commercial flop that it is being ignored, but perhaps because it might be a success if it were given normal levels of publicity.

These are two responses.  The first is from Daniel Johnson at Standpoint.   The second from Richard Evans, a history swot from Cambridge.  I am unqualified to adjudicate so I will leave it to you WWII students to take your own decisions.

 

I never thought I would write these words!   However, I really think I will miss Phil Hammond, the previous Chancellor of the Exchequer.  Yes, he looked like a gormless twit and over Brexit he demonstrated it!  However, he kept a canny eye on the nation's finances which are looking remarkably healthy despite the squealings of the 'Remainers'.  Alas, both Boris and 'Jezza' are throwing money - er, our money, I would remind you! - in all directions in their desperation to win the election.  There will be tears - or even blood!

 

More war - sorry!   But this is just a Hollywood film of a particular battle and I am sorry to say that it is based on one of the most crucial, subtle and sophisticated battles of WWII.  I refer to the Battle of Midway which involved not just the courageous sailors and airmen involved but also the highly secret skills of the American code-breakers.  Somehow, don't ask me how, I just cannot believe Hollywood will do it justice.  Read a bbook on the subject and be amazed!

 

Another tricky question for my American friends:   I keep coming across hints and whispers and the occasional nudge here and there in the 'meeja', to the effect that California is headed towards a financial collapse of Argentinian proportions!  Tell me it ain't so!

 

Too, too delicious!   I am referring to the plight of Michael E. Mann, the, er, 'inventor' of the 'Hockey Stick' graph which purports to show an up-tick in global temperatures.  He sued one of his critics, a Dr. Tim Ball, in the Canadian courts - and lost - BIGTIME!  Ordered to pay costs to Dr. Bell, he has so far refused.  The similar case against Mark Stein which Mann started some seven years ago has still not been judged in court because Mann keeps dodging.  How much faith do you have in global warming prophets?  That much, eh?   Sucker!

 

No more rumbles