Here is what I think.
You don't have to think it, nor do you have to agree with it. It's what I think.
I want to say it. You don't have to read it.
Next Sunday marks the end of World War One. World War One, the Great War, was probably best described in the Blackadder Goes Forth TV programme.
Times were different then. We (the Noble Britons) were sitting here minding our own business, having invaded everything worth invading, and all of a sudden there was a WAR. The Germans, mainly. I am sure that the brave Tommies (no, not that idiot) were being patriotic. They were doing their "duty". They were defending us from whatever the evil was that was upon us.
Sadly, there were those brave Tommies. but also there were Ruperts, bravely issuing orders from the safety of their HQs for the braves to march to their certain deaths.
The higher up the tree you went the less chance you had of being brutally mutilated.
There was then another War. World War Two. Germany again, the buggers.
Same stuff but with more technology and bigger bangs.
War is shit.
Anyway, this is the unpopular bit. Us Noble Britons have an Army. They couldn't really fight off much in the way of Nukes, nor any decent power such as The You Ess Of Ay. Or Russia. You can argue, but you'll lose.
We try to be nice to folk who would beat us. Then we do marching. And we do Pomp And Circumstance better than many.
My point, though, is this.
There are two kinds of Armed Forces folk. One is the Public School Rupert who couldn't make it as an Estate Agent. The other is the Sec Mod Tommy who couldn't make it as a milkman.
And now you all hate me.
And you know what? I don't care. I will never forget that day when I, as a young and impressionable Plod, scraped this lad out of a doorway, holding up a sign saying "I am deaf", after he had been beaten to within an inch of his life by squaddies from 2 Para, on a weekend off. At least three of them. Because they thought it was big and clever.
Fuck those people.
I shall remember those brave and noble folk, from a very different time, and be grateful that they died, mainly in vain, for us to be here today. RIP, you lads and lasses; at the going of the sun, and in the morning, I will remember you. Thank you so much.