IF YOU have never seen the Hollywood blockbuster Saving Private Ryan, then can I suggest that there may never be a more pertinent time to catch up.If your weekend ahead is busy, that’s fine.
Just watch the first 23 minutes and try to comprehend – if that’s possible, although I doubt it – the hell and the horrors that tens of thousands of young men, mostly American and British, endured on the morning of June 6, 1944, as they jumped into the stormy seas and, if they survived the uncertain struggle to their designated beach, staggered into a hail of unrelenting German machine gun fire.
More than 4,400 never saw the day’s end. Another 6,000-plus were grievously wounded before night fell. They did it not just for King and country, or for President and Old Glory, but for mums and dads, moms and pops – because frankly most were barely old enough to shave, let alone have wives and children, though no doubt many of the fallen did. Their sacrifice was given to preserve free and democratic nations; they died to save their children and yet-unborn future generations from brutal, unforgiving, totalitarian regimes. If you haven’t visited the war cemeteries of Normandy then, like those of Flanders, you owe it to your selves, your consciences, to any influence you might have on children to come, to do so. It stuns you. Takes your very breath away.
But if there were any substance whatsoever to the well-worn phrase ‘spinning in their graves’ many a British household would have been shaking on its foundations this week. How those heroes’ mortal sacrifices have been – continue to be – shamed and betrayed, not by Americans, nor by French and Germans and so many nations united by those terrible, unforgettable events, but by Britons. Yes, by our very own demented, deluded, freedom-hating Britons. By the new Fascists of the far left.
I don’t like Donald Trump on any level. A horrible, lying and frankly dangerous misogynist although as US Presidents go, he was probably kept company by at least three former office-holders who spring to mind in John F Kennedy, Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton. But hey, glass houses and throwing stones anyone? I eagerly await the day that Tony Blair and his vile accomplices are hauled before the International Courts of Justice for their war crimes. And yes, I voted for Tony ‘the messiah’ in the days of his fresh-faced promise.
Trump’s day will come and go soon enough, which is the beauty of the US system; but this week the UK was not throwing a cocktail party for an orange-faced buffoon, it was being diplomatic host to an Office of State; to the elected high representative of the nation that however belatedly turned the tides of both the Great War and World War II; the USA is a nation that for all its many faults stands, to this day, as the single power standing between crumbling western democracies and the tri-partite hostile intentions of totalitarian China, Russia and radical Islamism.
I don’t know if Batley & Spen MP Tracy Brabin made it down to Portsmouth on Wednesday to join the thronging thousands of patriots helping commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day. Maybe she did, but I’d lay a lot of money against.
We know she was in London on Tuesday, amongst the frothing haters who were filmed beating up an old man and assaulting others, while protesting against our national audacity to offer hospitality to President Trump (and don’t these people have jobs to go to? I wouldn’t be surprised if most were university lecturers). Cat got your tongue, Tracy pet?
Her own god-figure, Jeremy Corbyn, was happy to don white-tie and tails and sup with Chinese despot Xi Jinping, who has presided over the deaths of many, many more thousands than fell in Normandy 75 years ago. No word for the Uighur Muslims, Jezza/Tracy, a million of whom are reported to be in Xi’s concentration camps in western China, right now?
Nah. Out of sight out of mind, eh? Uighurs can’t ‘own’ the vote in Tower Hamlets, Bradford or Batley I suppose. Corbyn’s nose is happier up the backsides of people like Hamas terrorist boss Khaled Mahal, or IRA/Sinn Fein chiefs Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness. You can take your pick of a dozen other west-hating despots that he and his fanatical followers are happier in the company of.
And here’s how stupid they really are – they don’t even realise that while their heads might not be first on the chopping block come the moment of reckoning, they would make it to the front of the queue, eventually, once they’d outworn their usefulness.
You’re a jerk Donald, I do not doubt. But thank you for your friendship and solidarity, Mr President.
A BIT OF GIVE AND TAKE...
I ALWAYS like a bit of a shin-kicking in our Forum columns, one correspondent last week telling me I’m deluded for thinking a (potential) Brexit Party election campaign in these parts would be doomed to failure by the bloc vote. Then today on p8 apparently I’m blind to both the evils of Tory cruelty and the social nirvana of Corbynista Labour.
I can understand both well reasoned points, but as you’d expect I have a riposte (it’s great having the last word!)
Why wouldn’t I campaign as a Brexit candidate in Savile Town or Ravensthorpe? The local Muslim population was strongly ‘Leave’ in 2016, because their communities feel the biggest impact of mass eastern European immigration. I also think it’s worth asking if the majority of ordinary, peace-loving families, enjoy their everyday lives being strangled by either the patriarchal mosques, or the criminal gangs – both of which rule unfettered because no politician will challenge Kirklees Police or Kirklees Council, to deal with a destructive status quo?
As for me being a Labour hater/Tory lover? The Conservative Party – in Westminster at least – is on its last legs and deservedly so. It has made massive historic mistakes (much of the 80s/90s privatisation being a very fair point) and the current benefits morass is another shameful example. But I have voted Labour in local and general elections more than any other party. The problem is, as warped as Blair, Mandelson, Campbell and Brown let their ‘new’ Labour project become, it was light-years away from the terrorist-loving/Brit-hating anti-patriotic Fascism of Corbyn’s far left puppeteers of today. They are blindly intent on destroying our country for ideological reasons that are beyond my understanding.
I suspect I’m probably very much still a Labour man in the model of many politicians I grew up admiring, just seasoned and matured by the economic conservatism of my life experiences. Jeremy Corbyn, John McDonnell and friends are not Labour people in any way that almost a century of great tolerant, socially-conscious political figures would recognise. They are dangerous extremists and 75 years on from D-Day should be considered traitors to Queen and Country – and that goes for the MPs who stand by them too.
PS: Not that I’m actually standing for office or anything, obviously…
A WASTE OF OXYGEN...
THERE is a common scourge on our streets, witnessed at least twice by contributors to our letters page today – youths on mopeds, brazenly flouting the law and any sense of public safety.
I was driving up Staincliffe Road through Dewsbury Moor on Thursday morning when four bikes came haring down the road – two riders actually had helmets on, the others didn’t with rider and passenger just with hoodies pulled up.
I confess to shouting “boo!” (or suchlike) out of my window at them, but sadly they rode on undeterred, just waving fingers and screaming profanities back at me.
Given that Kirklees Police are as rarely seen on our streets as rocking horse droppings, it will probably take the death of one or more of these scrotes before anyone does anything meaningful. And I’m sure mums and mates will lay flowers and say “poor Johnny was a lovely lad, just a mischievous bit of a rogue.”
Sorry, but ‘bit of a rogue Johnny’ will not be any kind of a loss to society.