Churchill’s secret fearless warriors

1414706302613_Image_galleryImage_Former_Prime_Minister_of_Kill without mercy, party like there’s no tomorrow: Churchill’s secret band of fearless warriors broke hearts, rules — and the Nazis’ spirit.  One of the most extraordinary stories of World War II is also one of the least commonly known, that of a small band of men charged by Winston Churchill himself with carrying out ‘a butcher-and-bolt reign of terror’ behind enemy lines.

Often dosed up on powerful amphetamines, they were an eclectic, wildly unconventional bunch, one of whom favoured the bow-and-arrow as his weapon of choice. They went initially by a prosaic name, Small Scale Raiding Force (SSRF), operating under the aegis of the secretive Special Operations Executive, which had been formed in July 1940 to carry out ‘operations seen as too politically explosive, illegal or unconscionable as to be embraced by the wider British establishment’.220px-Anders_Lassen_1920-1945

Major Anders Frederik Emil Victor Schau Lassen VC, MC & Two Bars (22 September 1920 – 9 April 1945) 

‘CHURCHILL’S SECRET WARRIORS’ by Damien Lewis (Quercus £20). 

Damien Lewis’s compelling book gives as good an explanation as any of why the Special Operations Executive also came to be known as the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare. And perhaps the least gentlemanly of the SSRF butcher-and-bolt specialists was an aristocratic Dane, Anders — known as Andy — Lassen, who was not averse to bellowing orders in German to confuse the enemy. It was the similarly unorthodox Lassen who petitioned the War Office to be allowed to develop the bow-and-arrow, with which he had hunted on the family estate, as the perfect, silent killing machine. But Whitehall mandarins refused, declaring arrows — in the age of the machine-gun and flame-thrower, as Lewis wryly points out — to be somehow ‘inhuman’.150px-British_Commandos_Patch

Still, that didn’t stop Lassen, dubbed the ‘Robin Hood commando’ by locals in rural Dorset, where he trained in the summer of 1942 in preparation for a furtive assault on the occupied Channel Islands. Indeed, one of the themes of this absorbing tale is the constant battle not just between the Allies and the Nazis, but also between the regular army and Churchill’s licensed buccaneers. 

In Italy in 1945, one regular officer told Lassen that he and his wild bunch were a disgrace, “What would the enemy think of them, if they were found not just dead, but unshaven?” It is certainly true he was no respecter of bureaucratic authority. After every raid, he and other key commanders were supposed to file an operational report. But he detested all such paperwork and his reports famously consisted of no more than five words: ‘Landed. Killed Germans. F***ed off.’ Churchill’s secret band of fearless warriors; the Small Scale Raiding Force (SSRF)

Almost Christmas, and another book has just been added to my ‘non-digital reading list’ Yours Aye.

Champagne Socialist Labour Party leader

479891005-620x413Socialist Labour Party to be ‘wiped out’ in Scotland at next election as Scottish Nationalist Party support grows. Party leader Ed Miliband’s woes in Scotland increased yesterday after a new opinion poll showed Labour could be virtually wiped out North of the border in the 2015 General Election. Socialist Labour Party to be ‘wiped out!’ article-2634977-1E14CCD500000578-89_636x397538df94063673Labour Party leader Ed Miliband, the hypocrite champagne socialist millionaire ‘man of the people,’ who almost financially destroyed Britain by supporting and advising ‘ex Prime Minister’ Gordon ‘the clown’ Brown – when Labour were last in power.

Pictured above: Struggling to eat a bacon sandwich at a press conference/photo opportunity in a Covent Garden cafe. Pictured right  Spilling a full cup of tea down his front in front of a conference meeting. A miserable all round failure (thank Gawd!)miliband running 

As I have said previously, I always retire to my bed with a smile on my face, and a happy thought in my head. Cheers Ed – you’re absolutely priceless…      Yours Aye.

Never trust a man who can’t eat a bacon sandwich, or drink a cup of tea without spilling it. A socialist through and through – Ed even leans to the left when he attempts to run…

Britain faces Arctic freeze. Bring it on!

Winter 2014 set to be ‘coldest for century’ Britain faces ARCTIC FREEZE, which is just weeks away.  (Pictures from a previous Winter – obviously)-520672Heavy and persistent snow, freezing gales and sub-zero temperatures threaten to grind the country to a standstill for up to FIVE MONTHS, horrified long-range weather forecasters have warned. The impending bout of extreme weather will come as a shock and forecasters have warned Britons should not to be lulled into a false sense of security by the recent mild conditions. January is currently showing signs of temperatures hitting “record-breaking” lows meaning parts of the country could see the mercury plunge to -27C (-17F)Britain faces ARCTIC FREEZE, which is just weeks away.musher

I’ve just finished winterising every thing around my humble abode, and stocked up on fuel, rock salt, etc… So, a quick message for Mother Nature; “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough” (because this Ex Bootneck is mountain & arctic warfare trained.) Besides their ice-n-snow booties, the canines also have an additional ‘secret weapon,’ which is a protection product I thoroughly recommend for canine, and feline’s alike (humans owned by felines may require the top half from a suit of armour for applications);-)      Yours Aye.

The ‘Jockanese’ are revolting!

The stick that makes cheap whiskey taste GOOD: Oak tool ‘ages’ and filters liquor in 24 hours – and it reduces the chance of you getting a hangover. 1414680953102_wps_18_image002_png

Whiskey Element claims to make cheap alcohol taste like expensive whiskey by infusing it with a woody flavour when placed in a decanter (pictured.)

The grooved oak sticks were invented by a company in Portland, Oregon, and claim to be able to make cheap whiskey resemble expensive liquor in just 24 hours. The stick that makes cheap whiskey taste GOOD

The ‘Jockanese’ will be reaching for claymore’s, broadsword’s & targe’s as the skirl of the agony bags bag pipes call the gathering of the clans…maccolla7Never under-estimate a ‘Jock in a frock’ when someone tampers with his Scotch whisky! Putting ice in a wee dram can cause an all out skirmish!      Yours Aye.

Old ancient saying; ‘Scottish by birth, British by law, Highlander by the grace of God.’ 

Think man, think, for ‘Gawds’ sake!

1414591189461_wps_44_Pic_By_HotSpot_Media_LOOKThe unicycle powered by BRAINWAVES: Cycoped responds to electrical impulses from your mind to drive the vehicle. 

Inspired by the self-driving hover-chairs in Wall-E, an inventor has created a one-wheeled vehicle controlled using signals from his brain. Dubbed Cycoped, the rechargeable device connects to a smartphone app and a pair of specially designed goggles. Biden Speaks At White House Community Leaders Briefing On Seniors IssuesThese goggles register the rider’s brain impulses before sending them to the app, which controls the novel mode of transport. The unicycle powered by BRAINWAVES

Obviously not everyone will be capable of mastering the novel mode of transport    ————>

Yours Aye.

’Er Majesty’s Jolly-soldier an’ sailor too!”

29237 28th October 2014 – the Corps Birthday. As well as the 350th Anniversary of the formation of the Royal Marines.  Per Mare, Per Terram (By Sea, By Land)

Formed in the reign of King Charles II on October 28, 1664 as the Duke of York and Albany’s Maritime Regiment of Foot (or Admiral’s Regiment), the name Marines first appeared in the records in 1672 and in 1802 they were titled the Royal Marines by King George III. Since then, Marines have taken part in more battles on land and sea around the world than any other branch of the British Armed Forces; so numerous are the Corps’ battle honours they are simply represented by the famous Globe and the single honour ‘Gibraltar’.

In the great tradition of the Corps I raise a glass of port and propose a toast; ‘To all those serving, ex-serving, and for those who have crossed the bar’ Happy Birthday ‘Royal.’ And ‘Gawd’ Save The Queen…         Yours Aye.     Sláinte!image1

Soldier an’ Sailor too… Rudyard Kipling

AS I was spittin’ into the Ditch aboard o’ the Crocodile,
I seed a man on a man-o’-war got up in the Reg’lars’ style.
’E was scrapin’ the paint from off of ’er plates, an’ I sez to ’im, “’Oo are you?”
Sez ’e, “I’m a Jolly—’Er Majesty’s Jolly—soldier an’ sailor too!”
Now ’is work begins by Gawd knows when, and ’is work is never through;
’E isn’t one o’ the reg’lar Line, nor ’e isn’t one of the crew.
’E’s a kind of a giddy harumfrodite—soldier an’ sailor too!

An’ after I met ’im all over the world, a-doin’ all kinds of things,
Like landin’ ’isself with a Gatlin’ gun to talk to them ’eathen kings;
’E sleeps in an ’ammick instead of a cot, an’ ’e drills with the deck on a slew,
An’ ’e sweats like a Jolly—’Er Majesty’s Jolly—soldier an’ sailor too!
For there isn’t a job on the top o’ the earth the beggar don’t know, nor do—
You can leave ’im at night on a bald man’s ’ead, to paddle ’is own canoe—
’E’s a sort of a bloomin’ cosmopolouse—soldier an’ sailor too.

We’ve fought ’em in trooper, we’ve fought ’em in dock, and drunk with ’em in betweens,
When they called us the seasick scull’ry-maids, an’ we called ’em the Ass Marines;
But, when we was down for a double fatigue, from Woolwich to Bernardmyo,
We sent for the Jollies—’Er Majesty’s Jollies—soldier an’ sailor too!
They think for ’emselves, an’ they steal for ’emselves, and they never ask what’s to do,
But they’re camped an’ fed an’ they’re up an’ fed before our bugle’s blew.
Ho! they ain’t no limpin’ procrastitutes—soldier an’ sailor too.

You may say we are fond of an ’arness-cut, or ’ootin’ in barrick-yards,
Or startin’ a Board School mutiny along o’ the Onion Guards; (1)
But once in a while we can finish in style for the ends of the earth to view,
The same as the Jollies—’Er Majesty’s Jollies—soldier an’ sailor too!
They come of our lot, they was brothers to us; they was beggars we’d met an’ knew;
Yes, barrin’ an inch in the chest an’ the arm, they was doubles o’ me an’ you;
For they weren’t no special chrysanthemums—soldier an’ sailor too!

To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with firing all about,
Is nothing so bad when you’ve cover to ’and, an’ leave an’ likin’ to shout;
But to stand an’ be still to the Birken’ead drill is a damn tough bullet to chew,
An’ they done it, the Jollies—’Er Majesty’s Jollies—soldier an’ sailor too!
Their work was done when it ’adn’t begun; they was younger nor me an’ you;
Their choice it was plain between drownin’ in ’eaps an’ bein’ mopped by the screw,
So they stood an’ was still to the Birken’ead drill, (2) soldier an’ sailor too!

We’re most of us liars, we’re ’arf of us thieves, an’ the rest are as rank as can be,
But once in a while we can finish in style (which I ’ope it won’t ’appen to me).
But it makes you think better o’ you an’ your friends, an’ the work you may ’ave to do,
When you think o’ the sinkin’ Victorier’s (3) Jollies—soldier an’ sailor too!
Now there isn’t no room for to say ye don’t know—they ’ave proved it plain and true—
That whether it’s Widow, or whether it’s ship, Victorier’s work is to do,
An’ they done it, the Jollies—’Er Majesty’s Jollies—soldier an’ sailor too!

(1) Long ago, a battalion of the Guards were sent to Bermuda as a punishment for riotous conduct in barracks.

(2) In 1852 the Birkenhead transport was sunk off Simon’s Bay. The Marines aboard her formed up on the Port-side of her deck to act as ballast to compensate the ships listing. This allowed travelling women and children to escape in long boats. The Marines went down as drawn up on her deck – nearly all drowned.

(3) Admiral Tryon’s flagship, sunk in a collision in 1893

Police protection team, an oxymoron…

David Cameron shoved in the street by member of the public out jogging, as surrounding protection officers watched in ‘very significant security breach!’article-2809616-229AEDF700000578-683_964x476Prime Minister David Cameron was shoved in the street by a member of the public this morning in a ‘very significant security breach’. The Prime Minister was in Leeds to promote the Government’s proposed high-speed railway line in the north. But as he came out of the city’s Civic Hall a passing jogger ran up to him at speed forcing Mr Cameron to move out-of-the-way while his surrounding security team look on. MPs called on Scotland Yard chief Bernard Hogan Howe to launch an immediate investigation into how the man was allowed to get so close to the PM. It comes less than a week after a lone-wolf gunman killed a soldier before attacking the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa. David Cameron shoved in the street by a member of the public, causing a ‘very significant security breach.’1414417912998_wps_34_Picture_shows_a_man_beingThere will be a few job opportunities within SO1 after todays televised fiasco, as a few old and bold ‘coppers in disguise’ will no doubt be receiving their P45’s in the postOne ‘lone’ jogger brushing past Cameron could quite easily have been just one from a sinister three-pronged attack. Considering the multiple layers of protection the Prime Minister has around him whilst out in the open this deserves an immediate inquiry, with fingers squarely pointed at those in charge – or not as the case appears to be…  Even after the target was taken down, Cameron was left stood unprotected as his bumbling security team stood in a huddle, allowing more members of the public to walk through their imaginary cordon! 

Feller’s, if any of you are looking in please accept a critical whisper in your shell-like ears; “Start hitting the gym, and stop hitting the ‘pie-hole’ expense account!”             Yours Aye.

Once again; Lions Led by Donkey’s

Military top brass don’t want you to see war movie showing hero killed in botched rescue bid: Defence chiefs attempt to block film about death of British soldier in Afghanistan. Defence chiefs have attempted to block the production of a new film about the death of a British Paratrooper in Afghanistan – because it portrays how the RAF botched a rescue mission.    Once again – ‘Lions Led By Donkeys.’MoS2 Template MasterCorporal Mark Wright died in September 2006 after becoming stranded in an unmarked minefield during a mission against Taliban fighters near the strategically important Kajaki Dam in Helmand province. But tragedy struck when a Chinook helicopter sent to rescue Cpl Wright and other British soldiers set off mines in the area as it attempted to land, causing him fatal injuries and injuring others. Below: Paratrooper Corporal Mark Wright 1414270249696_wps_1_A_SCOTTISH_soldier_who_waThe Ministry of Defence was heavily criticised at the inquest into Cpl Wright’s death in 2009, with the coroner saying officials should ‘hang their heads in shame’ over the failure to send a properly equipped aircraft. Now the incident has been depicted in a new film, Kajaki: A True Story, which will be released next month. The movie, which stars Game Of Thrones actor Mark Stanley as a medic who tries to save Cpl Wright, is backed by Help For Heroes and other military charities which will receive a percentage of the box office takings. But the makers have told The Mail on Sunday that they were blocked in their attempts to research key parts of the story, because MoD officials refused permission to speak to any of the air crew involved. Defence chiefs attempt to block film about death of British Paratrooper in Afghanistanhelp_for_heroes logoWhen the report of the Coroner’s inquest was issued in October 2008, I like many others wanted those responsible to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Those responsible being British Politician’s as well as very senior Top Brass who at the time, couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery! The Coroners Report in full Part of which, I would like to highlight, and add a hearty B.Z. “The actions of the US personnel who flew into the minefield is without doubt heroism of the highest order, by the specialist rescue and recovery team. Those who survived owe their lives to the Americans.”

23rd of October 2014: British commanders have given a damning assessment of the military campaign in Afghanistan, admitting that at times troops were so stretched there was a risk they would be ‘massacred!’ Documentary: “Afghanistan: The Lion’s Last Roar?” Is being shown on BBC2 on Sunday, October 26 at 9pm and Sunday, November 2 at 9pm. For those who are able, please watch it and weep tears of rage… And cast your mind back to the Socialist Labour Government who allowed our Armed Forces to fight undermanned, under paid, under armed, and with their hands tied behind their backs. All the while forcing additional severe cuts to military spending.

Yours ‘With Venom & Hatred In My Heart Towards Every Socialist Politician’ Aye.

Eve of Saint Crispin’s Day

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother…

WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

KING. What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

By golly my blood is pumping, and my loins are girded… Which reminds me; It’s also that time of year again when the clocks go back 1 hour at 0200 hrs on the last Sunday in October (26th.) Greenwich Mean Time begins.      Yours Aye. 

Common Sense Vs Education

Cops leave Ebola Dr’s apartment & dump their gloves & masks in a TRASH CAN?1414119276230_wps_58_NYPD_Police_take_down_cauWith the news that the first confirmed case of Ebola has hit New York City, all attention now turns to how equipped the densely populated metropolis will be to deal with the deadly virus & if the city really is as prepared as they claimed to be in a press conference Thursday evening. Perhaps throwing things into doubt right off the bat are photos taken outside the Harlem apartment of Dr. Craig Spencer, who was admitted to the hospital with a 103 degree fever earlier today, that show police officers tossing their gloves, masks and the caution tape used to block off access to his apartment in a public trash can.Common SenseNew York Cops testing the system outside of Ebola patients apartment  

The words of ‘The Great Agnostic’ –  Robert Green “Bob” Ingersoll, a native New Yorker.        Yours Aye.

Nine months of blood, sweat, and tears

Royal Marine is held ‘as he takes holiday trip to fight against ISIS': Commando quizzed over claims he was planning to join up with Kurdish forces. A British Royal Marine has been questioned by police on suspicion he was travelling to fight with Kurdish militias in Syria and Iraq during time off work. 220px-Royal_Marine_Beret_Badge_MOD_45151656The 22-year-old Royal Marine Commando was quizzed as he prepared to fly from California on a one-way ticket to Turkey. He is suspected of planning to join Kurdish forces fighting Islamic State militants. The Marine is understood to have been due to go on leave, but it is unclear whether he was planning to return to his Commando Unit after fighting for the Kurds.

US officials said he was believed to have been in online contact with a Kurdish group that has links in Turkey and the Kurdish frontline city of Irbil – the headquarters of Peshmerga units leading the fight against ISIS. Royal Marines Commando quizzed over claims he was planning to join up with Kurdish forces

I heard this ‘whisper’ last week when 45 Commando RM returned from their cross training trip with the USMC. Unfortunately the writing appears to be on the wall for this young Bootneck. A simple green beret; nine months to earn it, and a moment of madness to lose it.         Yours Aye.            

 It cannot be inherited, Nor can it be ever purchased, You and no one alive can buy it for any price, It is impossible to rent and it cannot be lent, You alone and our own have earned it with your sweat, blood, tears and lives. You own it forever, The Title,

ROYAL MARINE

Cramp & dancing buttocks

It has to be said that I can be a stubborn ‘barsteward’ at times, which means I alone generally pay the price for such. My appointed task this week was to drag a thick oak tree limb over a mile uphill, using the lush grass alongside the hedgerow bottom to act as a lubricated slide. Acting as my own mule, I knotted rope into a loop and created a figure of 8 harness to drag natures piece of ‘Quercus robur,’ which proved to have more ‘strength’ than I. Perhaps I should have waited a couple of days as the farmer suggested, after all his tractor could have done same the job effortlessly. I want it done now! I will not be beaten…WWS-stubborn-261x300

Nipper and Hannah didn’t help by jumping up and grabbing at the drag line – hanging on to it growling and wittering as though the game was invented for them. After tarrying a while several times or more (to suck air into lungs that were burning out) we I managed to edge the beast over the brow for the last two hundred metre downhill stumble to my humble abode. The limb now sits atop two wooden X’s – along the length of the gap in the hedgerow that was torn out by last years young boy racer.
Tomorrow I can start interlacing long wild rose creepers around the limb and allow nature to create a formidable barrier.   CRAMP!

Through the silent hours I suffered through my stubbornness. The mother of all cramp attack’s paid a visit (and stayed awhile.) My calves started twisting and moving involuntary, which quickly spread to the arches in my feet. Then the chinese foot binder appeared and set about contorting my little piggies so that they curled under the ball of each foot.new-ReduceImgWidth.asp The worse was yet to come, of which nothing could have prepared me for. My buttock muscles started to twist and knot up, then each buttock individually danced to a silent rhythmic Rumba beat.

Hanging onto my heavy-duty blackout curtains (whilst screaming out to the Pusser’s Rum God) I went through every stretching exercise, but to no avail, I had to wait until nature had cruelly run its painful course; pain that could knock out a pair of Spanish donkeys – or kill one hundred and fifty French matelots outright!410px-Matelot  (French matelot in his ‘tiddley pom’ cap) 

Then I remembered the packet of CRAMPEX in my backpack down in the boot room (lead pills to cover the pain of kryptonite.)

51rWximZTFLWithin thirty minutes all was well with the world, and ‘mother cramp’ & the ‘chinese foot binder’ returned back to the hell from whence they came.

A pity about the French matelots; but hey, I don’t make the rules…      Yours Aye.

Ink and Education

SWNS_TATTOO_TEACHER_23.jpg1413978620266_Image_galleryImage_Despite_removing_her_pierMother-of-two Charlotte Tumilty claims she was sent away from her first day at a new job at St John Vianney’s Primary School, below, in Hartlepool because her arms and neck are covered in tattoos. The 26-year-old says she was told the inking on her feet, hands and neck were inappropriate but the schools says she was simply asked to just make sure they were covered up. Teaching-assistant-sent-away-catholic-school-arms-neck-covered-tattoos.

They say never judge a book by its cover. Unfortunately she is not a book; this is an aspiring teacher hoping to teach and influence young children. The mind boggles, but there’s always the circus as a back up career… Yours Aye.

‘Cowardly Islamic Barstewards’

Canadian Parliament under lockdown after ‘multiple’ gunmen ‘shoot soldier standing guard at the National War Memorial before opening fire in the Parliament halls’1413990053992_wps_15_Emergency_personnel_tend_The Parliament’s Centre Block has been placed under lockdown after a suspect reportedly opened fire on a Canadian Forces soldier at the National War Memorial in Ottawa and then ran towards Parliament. Journalists inside the building reported smelling gunpowder and seeing a body on the ground inside. They added that the suspect appears to be around 5ft 10, overweight and dressed in a dark jacket. Left, an injured man is carried to an ambulance. Canadian Parliament under lockdown after ‘multiple’ gunmen ‘shoot soldier standing guard at the National War Memorial before opening fire in the Parliament halls’

The story is still unfolding as I type this. It is hoped the cowardly islamic scum responsible for the atrocity are sent forth towards their imaginary vestal virgins ‘at the rush!’ There are approximately 129,584 full-time equivalent police officers in the 43 police forces of England and Wales. Take away a third of that number due to admin posts and the like, and we have a thin blue line on the ground at any given time per shift. From that thin blue line take away the unarmed coppers, and we are left with next to nothing on the ground with the capability of stopping a multiple concentrated attack from Islamic Extremists. How long before every single copper in this land is trained to carry firearms to ‘protect & serve’ the general public? How long before we – the general public – demand the same rights, because the day is coming…      Yours Aye.

17-year-old Aussie ISIS toe-rag

article-2802160-227275F100000578-488_636x382In a propaganda video for the terror group published on YouTube, the young white, Sydney-born man calling himself Abu Khaled from Australia is flanked by other ISIS fighters. The jihadist goes on to claim that ISIS are going to put a ‘black flag on top of Buckingham Palace’ and the White House. ISIS weirdest-western-jihadi-australian-17-year-old-vows-fly-islamist-flag-buckingham-palace-calls-abu-khaled-family-call-idiot.

From being a small bairn my Gran taught me to fall asleep with a smile on my face, even when times were tough wearing a ‘green lid’ I followed her advice. I once recall my Granddad returning home from the pub blind drunk, and through his ‘Dutch courage’ hurling abuse at my Gran for some thing trivial that happened earlier in the day. He paid the penalty for it on the spot, as he caught a right hander from her that connected with his chin – after which he failed a count of ten and slept where he dropped. The following day was a work day for Granddad, so Gran carefully wedged a raw egg in the toe of his boot before we both retired. To this day I can still remember his cursing moan at being caught out.  I digress…  Last night I retired with a huge grin from ear to ear – after watching the 17-year-old Australian toe-rag above, as he ranted his threats and challenges to any Western coalition who thinks they’re hard enough to ‘come and have a go!’ I have a pair of combat boots older than him, that probably have more life left in them than he has on this mortal coil!        Yours Aye.

Where’s Wally ~ Where’s Waldo

Profuse apologies as the following ‘dit’ was intended for issue late Sunday evening, so put your clocks back 24 hours, and kindly read on…

I rose with the sun this morning, having taken the sleep of a dead man – a full seven hours straight without so much as an eye flicker; the first time in as many years that was accredited to a lot of back-breaking work outdoors preparing for winter. As the dogs ‘eased springs’ in their ablution yard I prepped a walking breakfast of bacon, bacon, and more bacon – set within two huge doorsteps of bread. Making up a large flask of tea for good measure, I also packed two fig rolls for guilty pleasure, as well as two large bonio’s for the canines. Speaking of ‘guilt.’Thirty pieces of silver

The guilt I suffer when fitting the harnesses onto Hannah and Nipper as Gentleman Joss looks on is enormous. I know what Judas Iscariot felt like when he was paid his thirty pieces of silver! Sadly Joss would never be able to keep up, and I explain the same to him each and every time, though I know it only makes me feel better by doing so. At least when we return from each morning jolly, Joss gets a decent plod around the fields at his own speed, unhindered by the two young whirling dervishes. it also allows me to talk to him about our past adventures together, which allows me to mentally hand back the silver a piece at a time.622px-Lassie_Jon_Provost_1961

The morning’s jolly was a decent four miles over hill and through dale, with a leisurely breakfast stop in the bright Autumn sunshine. As it was so quiet I decided on walking the last two miles back along the small country lane that leads through the tiny village close to my humble abode. Strangely enough I came across a scene straight from a Lassie film; a group of villagers were formed into a huddle in the small car park of the village hall (Lassie’s young master ‘Timmy Martin’ was missing, and this was the local search and rescue party!)

Someone from the small gathering handed me an A4 flier with faded ink; ‘MISSING CAT’ (that had a faded picture of the missing ‘black’ cat beneath the bold header) The cat looked dark in places, yet also a reddish pink around the gills and ears, with kidney problem yellow eyes. Magenta can be a cruel ink when it wants to be…Wally Woo-Woo

‘MISSING CAT’ Very friendly cat, answers to the name of ‘WALLY’ Missing since 12th October. Please could you check your sheds, garages, barns, etc, etc… Organised search requesting volunteers at the village hall at 10am – 19th October. Oh Bugger! I had now involuntary press-ganged myself into the search and rescue party, which was purely through over-staying at my earlier breakfast stop by fifteen minutes.

Folk around Yorkshire are a priceless quaint lot, who take village life and social responsibilities very serious, under such circumstances they answered the call and rallied around to help out an emotionally worn down elderly lady. For all we knew poor Timmy Martin ‘Wally’ could have fallen down an old mine shaft, or lay unconscious at the edge of a stream with the water level slowly rising. In fact looking around, I was the only involuntary volunteer with canines – so where the blooming heck was Lassie…? After being presented with designated search areas, our last offered instructions were the owners telephone number, and the fact that ‘Wally’ also responded to the call of ‘Wally Woo-Woo,’ even more so when he was hungry.

My task was to make a detour across several fields to search the old brick and wooden barns that lay semi-derelict. As I plodded on towards my mission I could hear voices echoing in the nearby woodland that sounded like owls calling out to each other. There was no way this side of the black stump that I was going to call out Wally’s dinner name, even though my only escort were the canines Hannah and Nipper.Hanah Snell

Speaking of which, when we arrived at the old barns I slipped Nipper’s lead off, and allowed him to sniff search the buildings as he was initially brought up with a couple of cats. My theory being he may be more curious towards Wally’s returned cat wail – should he somehow be trapped within.

Hannah remained on a short lead, as she was given the name Hannah Snell for a reason. (Hannah tends to shoot first with her jaws, and then asks questions – hence the end of the rat problem outside of my humble abode!)

After scouring the barn to no avail, I called the given number to state ‘building clear.’ Only to be informed that ‘Wally’ had been found in the locked Church opposite the village hall, and it would appear that he was none the worse for his seven-day ‘lock in.’ Which made me automatically think that the Church (circa 1135) no longer had a mouse problem, and the holy water in the stone font may well have aided a feline miracle. The Church may well have a feline aromatic toiletry problem in place instead

All was not lost on my behalf, as I found a treasure trove throughout my search; several pieces of old horse brass, two old Victorian chimney pots, and hand rolled glass window panes. All of which I have since purchased from the farmer at a steal-give away price, and there’s more to be found with full permission granted to boot. ‘Wally Woo-Woo,’ in more ways than one you are a bloody lucky black cat mate…     Yours ‘Smugly’ Aye.