Sitting in Wetherspoon’s yesterday afternoon I was surprised to see members of the evening shift arrive wearing cowboy hats and check shirts. The sight of one displaying a more than usual amount of cleavage induced jokes of a sort which proved that while my companions may have bad taste they certainly have good memories.
‘What’s it all in aid of?’ I asked one of the cowgirls.
‘Curry night.’
‘Curry night?’
‘Yes, the Indians provide the curry. We are the cowboys.’
I’m not making that up.
* * * * *
The murder of four more soldiers in Iraq came on the day when the 15 sailors and Marines were flown back to Britain by the Iranians.
The press, true to form, cannot see a crisis without trivialising it. The past fortnight has seen them concentrate on the one female ‘hostage’, interviewing her family, feeding them clichés and trying to capture tears on camera. Now, after talk of ‘dreams come true, answers to prayer, emotional reunions,’ etc they are about to turn and ask ‘serious’ questions.
Was the Royal Navy at fault? Was their release a victory for Britain or a propaganda triumph for Iran? What do the sailors think of their new suits?
Much as I despise the British press, I would like to hear them ask this question: should the Iran 15 be court-martialled and dishonourably discharged? I know it’s easy for me, sitting safely in front of a cosy computer, to ask that. But when Royal Marines are dying daily and every completed patrol is a dream come true and emotional reunions are months away, I feel sick when I see their comrades parroting Iranian lies in exchange for cigarettes and bags of sweets.
‘What’s it all in aid of?’ I asked one of the cowgirls.
‘Curry night.’
‘Curry night?’
‘Yes, the Indians provide the curry. We are the cowboys.’
I’m not making that up.
* * * * *
The murder of four more soldiers in Iraq came on the day when the 15 sailors and Marines were flown back to Britain by the Iranians.
The press, true to form, cannot see a crisis without trivialising it. The past fortnight has seen them concentrate on the one female ‘hostage’, interviewing her family, feeding them clichés and trying to capture tears on camera. Now, after talk of ‘dreams come true, answers to prayer, emotional reunions,’ etc they are about to turn and ask ‘serious’ questions.
Was the Royal Navy at fault? Was their release a victory for Britain or a propaganda triumph for Iran? What do the sailors think of their new suits?
Much as I despise the British press, I would like to hear them ask this question: should the Iran 15 be court-martialled and dishonourably discharged? I know it’s easy for me, sitting safely in front of a cosy computer, to ask that. But when Royal Marines are dying daily and every completed patrol is a dream come true and emotional reunions are months away, I feel sick when I see their comrades parroting Iranian lies in exchange for cigarettes and bags of sweets.
Words are cheap, I know, and discretion may be the better part of valour, but a little pride, a little resistance and some sheer bloody-mindedness would not have gone amiss. As for the officers, I don’t necessarily expect a performance like that of Colonel Nicholson in Bridge Over the River Kwai but to surrender first and then apologise is a poor example of leadership.
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