Heroes

Gold cherry

By Ewan

Mon, 08 Nov 2021
  • 1176 reads
4 comments
 

How did it happen? I took the Queen's shilling in 1982, aged 21 – almost. That meant that most people I knew in County Durham couldn't decide if I was one of Maggie's stormtroopers or following in the footsteps of our brave lads who fought in what they still called 'The War.' That war had been over almost 40 years. Apart from some political misadventures (Korea, Suez, anyone?), active service had been limited to post-colonial bother in far outposts of the former Empire. The Cold War was on, people were camped outside Greenham. It was only given its full name in the newspapers. The RAF Police guarding the perimeter - and the "Crusties" outside - called it Greenham.

 

So. Yes, how did it happen? That everyone's a hero now? Even me. I have the medals; too many probably. I served 23 years, 8 less than my dad. He had one medal, I have six, two of which I've never seen, as they were awarded after "demob".

 

It happened because the wall fell down. It happened because people finally realised that Stalin was really Jugashvili, just like The Great and Powerful Oz was Oscar Diggs behind the smoke and mirrors. The Berlin Wall did fall down - as unexpectedly as it was thrown up: Ein Volk became Ein Bundesrepublik and eventually had Eine Führerin. Good for them. But the great victory was hollow. The Soviet Union dissolved into Baltic-and-Balkan New Europeans, the same old Russia and a dozen potentially explosive -Stans.

 

Russia lost interest in many of their former "spheres of interest". Saddam interpreted it as carte blanche and the willing Bush Sr. led the charge into Gulf War One. Barely a dozen years later Bush Jr. sounded the trumpets of war and he and Blair led the coalition into Gulf War Two. Doubtless because God told them to do it. In between these two conflicts, the Balkans exploded into genocide, as everyone had predicted they would, on Tito's demise. And then there's one of the two original and best -Stans; Afghanistan.

 

That's why I've got more medals than my Dad. But I still don't understand why we're all heroes now. Is it just Terrorism? Didn't have much effect on our popularity when the IRA were blowing up Brighton, did it?

 

Kipling had it right,

"O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";

But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins",when the band begins to play,

The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,

O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play."

 

So I'll be remembering, come the day. I'll be wearing my poppy, but no medals. I'll also remember when we weren't heroes. I hope those who told us we weren't remember, too. And I'll be waiting for the wheel to turn, when the band stops playing for Tommy Atkins and me.

[NB: The Stackridge album in the accompanying image has this song on it. Which I used to play to cheer me up when staying in tents in desert lands.]

Certificate PG
Non-fiction
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by celticman on

Yes, all of those things. Kiplying and The Graet Game, when Britain was really a world power. But like many others, I tried to join up too (rejected by RAF) for the simple reason- the lack of jobs. It's the same the world over. The US war machine swallows up vast numbers of poor impoverished people. It doesn't offer the American Dream, but a way out of a nightmare world of part-time and shitty jobs with the lowest of pay. It's not as hard a sell as in Kipling's day. 

 

Submitted by marandina on

Genuinely interesting read and your take on things having been in the forces for so long. I can never forget Remembrance Day as, apart from anything else, it's my kid brother's birthday.My granddad on my mom's side died during WWII. War extracts a heavy price.

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our (very fitting) Pick of the Day

Please share/retweet if you enjoy it too

 

Submitted by Kris on

Ewan,

You have a way, a style, or can I say; a gravity, in some of your writing that kind of sucks me in with a cringe and this is one of them. Content wise herein, its a love hate thing and I had to read this 3... 4X times and stare at it for a while and I still love to hate it and love it, and I confess it's eloquently correct from all perspectives, scripted well, and its raw to some of us = you know it, nailed it*.....

Allow me to clarify that... I did my service, to get F'+@-'n out of a small shit hole poor village, more like a bus stop and it was an escape to avoid any more trouble than I was already in, back in the day.

With that said... In the big picture I came out of service a more rational, reasonable, logical, focused, patient man, with a few scars here and there, no big deal. I would like to think I came out somewhat educated or it provided me a path to an education and some leadership skills. Saw the world and certainly more of life than what was in the recruitment brochure.  And I would have of never met my wife if I had stayed roll'n fags and ingesting cheap and stolen spirits at bus stop.

To my point;

I don't want to dwell in those days of service. I don't have any garb nor accessories, mementos of any kind and I don't wear any trendy or utility clothing that even resembles those shades of color or style of military. I loath and avoid pub conversations about those days, political opinions, and questions like "what was it like"? and comparisons to fiction, fact, hear say, movies and distance myself from the mates that dwell in those days of "ya we were there" been there done that...... For me it was a profession. Call it a professional public or national service, trained up, schooled up, with allot of expensive, fast, powerful cool hardware (thank you tax payers)* mixed in with a few idiots in the hierocracy. I confess there was more than a few adrenaline highs that took weeks to come down from, far better than any drugs I experimented with and bonding of friends and souls at levels I cant explain as my literary skills are not as tuned as yours and the many others here.

In short; I came to a point where it was, game over, put the toys down, move on, turn the page. Thank's but no thanks. I'm still patriotic in spirit.....

You got the point, takes one to know one so to speak. 

That's what your piece 'Heroes' brought out in me.

As much as I don't want to go back there. I have to in an ode or homage to honor and a duty to those who have been thinned from the flock, those who were before us and those presently out there.

I cant describer it any better than what you have, so I'll quote you.

"So I'll be remembering, come the day. I'll be wearing my poppy, but no medals. I'll also remember when we weren't heroes".

Heroes provided me a glide path and soft landing to man up and put that pin on, again.

I'll be there with you, and the others, some where, in spirit, Poppy attached. Its a peaceful soothing thing. It just takes a bit of time for some of us to get there..... Thank you.

Its a sincere compliment........

Peace Ewan and all the best with the new book.