As many in our Nation have done over the past days, I went to an election meeting last week, and as some may remember, I posted on it at length.
It was, as I stated earlier, run along the lines of many things in Britain, orderly, calm and considered. But an interjection from the floor at the very end of the meeting highlighted the missing element, because as the speaker stood, he mentioned the very thing which had been ignored; he said we were at war, and no-one had even mentioned it! He spoke of one of the few places where the war has had an impact on a public basis; that of the town of Wootton Bassett, where the military corteges pass by the lowered flags of the British Legion. The flag-bearers, men of my age saluting the fallen of today, coming slowly back from a war where no-one knows even what they are fighting ‘for’, never mind ‘against’.
I heard the measured tones of Major Richard Streatfield as he called out the nicknames of his A Company, 4 Rifles Regiment’s soldiers in a salute to both the living and the dead on the Today Programme, and I have yet to hear a more telling indictment of the stupidity of those politicians who state, with platitudes oozing from their lips, of ‘helping to keep the streets of Britain safe by bringing safety to the dusty deserts and mountains of Afghanistan’.
As I sat this morning, listening to that soldier as he spoke, I remembered the man who spoke against the flow, and realised it should have been me that spoke, but I was too busy getting my thoughts ready to ask why we did not have the BNP candidate at the platform table!
He said the words, which should have spurred a fresh debate, but, no, sorry; the meeting has been declared closed, and you didn’t get your question down on the roster of the questions submitted, and besides, we are British, and we have to obey the rules, Y’Know!