Cowfold Seagull
Fan of the 17 bus
Good God, 100 posts on a thread entitled Well Done Toby Carvery. Well done l agree, but as much a shrewd marketing exercise as much as a thank you to our servicemen, (and women of course).
Who wants to be slaving in a hot kitchen on a day like this anyway and all that washing up? p
How would you propose they tackle this? How do you propose to sort your true heros, from the rest?
Maybe announce it as Free Meals for Forces HEROS, but have an X-factor style panel of judges by the entrance? Each serviceman can walk in and recount their most notable acts of service, then the judges decide if they are heroic enough to qualify for the free lunch? The bravest of all, with the best stories, could maybe get an extra Yorkshire pudding or a banana split?
They've ALL signed up, knowing the likelihood / possibility of having to put their lives on the line to defend the rest of us. Signing up, alone, is quite enough for me.
Me. I love cooking a roast and all the drinking that goes hand in hand with doing so
It's not difficult. They could very easily have made the offer without using the word "heroes". If every member of the armed forces is a hero, then how do you distinguish between the person with a desk job and the one who has put his life on the line on a battlefield? Is the latter a double-hero? Save the term "hero" for people who have genuinely done something heroic. Signing up for a career in the armed forces is not in itself a heroic act.
!
Rudyard Kipling
1890
Rudyard Kipling, who lost his son in 1915 in WW1, and wrote this poem.
My Boy Jack (1916)
Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has any one else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind -
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
Rudyard Kipling, who lost his son in 1915 in WW1, and wrote this poem.
My Boy Jack (1916)
Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has any one else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind -
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
He rhymed tide with tide.
He rhymed tide with tide.
how would you have liked them to word it?
i do not see myself as a hero, i signed up, did 19 years, survived the falklands war. i did not join up to go to war, i joined up to see the world. the war was an 'added' bonus. training got me through it. met hundreds of mates, lost quite a few too. hero? nah...Jolly Jack? absofickinglutely
p.s. could do with an anchor face icon thingy
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Enough for you Skimmer