St George For England
Allen
RAF Beaulieu Heath, April 23nd 2002
Today as the flag was raised on the campsite, which occupies the former
airfield, a ghostly presence was felt. Around the Office were gathered
men in blue visible only to true Englishmen.
Cry God for Harry and St George these were the valiant men who gave
their lives in a battle against evil men who would have enslaved this
green and pleasant land.
In the 1940s this heath land was criss crossed with tracks of concrete,
huts and hangers with long runways, taxi strips and dispersals. One of
seven carved from the forest in our hour of need.
Young men were taught weird evolutions and disciplines, dressed in itchy
scratchy uniforms. They were taught to fire rifles, to fight with
bayonets and each one was taught a trade. Aircraft fitters, armourers
and gunners barked at by coarse mouthed NCOs and young officers who
thought they were superior to the common man.
Today George, the patron Saint of England, slayer of dragons and
champion of the oppressed called all to witness the peace that they
fought and died for sixty years ago. Thier success obvious in our
prosperity and freedom.
Unlike the Irish who rave on about their Patrick and the Shamrock or the
Welsh who celebrate David with bright yellow daffodils we English are
loath to make much ado about our nationhood.
Not so the Scots who seize every oportunity to brandish the blue saltire
of St Andrew and dance to the wail of the pipes.
These oatcake eaters think themselves above we who eat the roast beef of
old England.
The Welsh eat seaweed bread and leeks, how much more filling a joint of
crop is. The Irish incorporate potatoes into everything, even making a
distilled spirit which no civilised man would drink.
So on this day we salute the men of RAF Beaulieu Heath the victors who
fought on Crispins day to protect this precious place, this land of
rolling hills and dales. The land of Shakespeare and Dickens, a proud
and conquering land which ruled an empire on which the sun never set and
kept the peace
by given English blood.
In our darkest hour, the enemy poised to strike across that 22 miles of
water, they strapped on the shield and buckler of Saint George.
With rod of burning gold and chariots of fire powered by Merlins engines
they smote the enemy. Drakes drum was played and he and Nelson rose to
lead.
And they have built Jerusalem, in Englands fair and pleasant land.
We salute the brave who gave their all for our freedom on this Saint
Georges Day
Three ducks on a pond
A grass bank beyond
White clouds on the wing
What a little thing
To remember for years
To remember with tears
(anon)
An illustrated version of this is available @
http://www.outlane.com/page209a.htm
--
Allen
One of the greatest labour saving inventions of today is tomorrow.