Passchendaele

Passchendaele

‘The Battle of Passchendaele’ was the last battle of the 
1917 battle knownmore correctly as 
‘The Third Battle of Ypres.’

To stem the German advance during 1914 the British army held a salient around the Belgian town of Ypres with dogged determination in the knowledge that losing the town would allow the German army to capture the ports of Dunkirk and Calais and possibly put Britain out of the war.  Such British determination during the ‘First Battle of Ypres’ cost the Germans dear with over a hundred and fifty thousand casualties.  The ‘Second Battle of Ypres’ during April and May 1915 in which the Germans advanced making the first use of Chlorine Gas also failed costing the Germans also large numbers of casualties.  The British however were left defending a salient in which the ridges of higher ground to the south and east were held by the German army allowing the enemy to observe all movements in the salient and pour artillery and machine gun fire into the occupied area thus making movement during the day impossible and life hazardous.

During 1915 the then Commander in Chief of the British forces Sir John French had wished to mount an operation in the Ypres area but was dissuaded by the war cabinet in London who were in admiration of the French generals and ordered instead to follow the French lead and attack at Loos.  This London order led to the loss of many casualties yet led to Sir John French being replaced by General Sir Douglas Haig.  Haig also wished to fight at Ypres during the 1916 offensive but was again instructed by London to follow the French lead and fight at the unsuitable Somme area.  By 1917, with Admiral John Fisher despairing due to the success of the German ‘U-boat’ fleet in sinking merchant vessels Haig reintroduced the idea of fighting at Ypres to free the Belgian coast and reach the submarine pens at Ostend.  This required victory over the higher ground around Ypres, reaching the railway at Roulers and disrupting the German supply system, so the ‘Third Battle of Ypres’ was launched.    

The Battle of Messines fought by General Plumer’s Second Army between the 7^th and 14^th of June had been an outstanding success but the momentum was lost due to the logistical difficulties in transferring artillery and preparing men before the main attack of the battle at Pilkem Ridge began on July 31^st.

The higher ridges to the east of Ypres had to be taken individually.  Normal weather patterns may well have enabled a success in a battle lasting only a few weeks however the unusually heavy rainfall in August plus determined defending by the German forces made movement for both sides almost impossible.  Fighting had been continuous in the salient since 1914 yet rainfall such as this was unprecedented.

Both General Gough’s Fifth Army and General Plumer’s Second Army participated in the opening day of the battle for ‘Pilkem Ridge’ on the 31^st July, the rain began the same day. The vast array of British artillery, over 3000 guns, now available for the British was unleashed to devastating effect firing over four million shells breaking German defences but also the drainage systems that lay throughout the area leaving water filled shell holes.

A series of difficult battles followed ‘Pilkem’ at ‘Gheluvelt’ plateau and ‘Langemark’ as the British Empire forces slowly struggled forward.  General Plumer’s 2^nd Army used a ‘Bite and Hold’ approach at the ‘Menin Road,’ ‘Polygon Wood’ and ‘Broodseinde’ to slowly make their way towards the final ridge on which the remains of ‘Passchendaele’ itself littered the ground. 

The advance entailed a struggle with conditions more than with the enemy.  Both armies became bogged down in the morass with untended wounded men lying in shell holes filling with dirty rainwater, with no-one able to aid they slipped under the rising tide.  Exhausted men struggled to move artillery in the mud, railway sleepers laid to form roadways through the theatre were constantly under fire from an observant enemy making passage difficult.  Weary men fell from these wooden pathways into the mire and equally weary men had not the strength to retrieve them, walking wounded stumbled for miles over the wet ground to the casualty clearing stations more dead than alive.  Medical teams in muddy conditions carried out operations hour after hour all the time with the danger of loose shells arriving beside them.  Men remained under constant fire from artillery, mustard gas, machine gun and rifle bullets, sometimes from their own side.  When the rain cleared there were few days when the sun was noticed and never enough to affect the ground.  The foolhardy use of tanks, against advice, saw them slither into the mud where they say some might still remain. 

Passchendaele itself was taken by General Plumer’s Canadians on the 6^th of November slithering over the slope and into the ruins of the church atop the ridge.  This over three months after the battle began.  Success had been achieved yet both sides suffered, the British well over 300,000 casualties, the Germans possibly around 250,000, on both sides morale reached a new low, and exhaustion was the order of the day.  This battle rightly or wrongly came to represent how Britain saw the entire war.

It is thought that both General Gough and the well respected General Plumer wished the battle to be brought to an end as both knew well the conditions the troops endured but army generals do not carry the responsibilities of Commander in Chiefs and Field Marshall Haig had wider fears to contend with.  Not only had Admiral Fisher revealed his worries re the German submarine attacks but Haig was well aware the French army had mutinied.  The General Nivelle offensive had failed at great cost and the French army, badly paid, badly fed and once again suffering great loss saw morale break down completely and in many areas whole Brigades refused orders.  In Haig’s mind the weakened French could not be trusted to defend if the Germans attacked, also with the Russians leaving the war this allowed Ludendorff the German army commander the opportunity to transfer a million men to the western front, some of whom arrived at the end of this battle, to Haig this meant capturing the high ground was vital.

Historians will forever debate the rights and wrongs of his decisions, none of these have ever had to make such a decision knowing that the lives of his men depended on his conclusion.  Haig was not an uncaring brute disinterested in his men as some claim, nor was he infused with a sense of sacrifice he was however a soldier who obeyed the order to fight the enemy and accepted his responsibilities whatever the cost.

Some 750,000 Scots, Welsh and Irishmen died during the Great War and the responsibility for this was laid on Haig and the generals by Lloyd George in his memoirs, memoirs which appeared after Haig and the generals had died and were unable to answer.  This was to avoid blame being laid on   Lloyd George’s shoulders, he after all was merely the Director of Munitions, a member of the war cabinet and from late 1916 Prime Minister!  He also encouraged the Gallipoli campaign which failed spectacularly!  Had the Field Marshall lived to answer his critics and had as many friends in the press as Lloyd George we may well have had a different view of the burden he carried during these years and a clearer understanding of reasons for the ‘Third Battle of Ypres,’ the battle better known as Passchendaele!

Men named on the Braintree and Bocking Great War Memorial 
who died during the Third Battle of Ypres.

July 31^st

The first day of the Battle of Pilkem Ridge, the beginning of the 'Passchendaele' battle.

Amos W.G. Private William George Amos. 269512. 'B' Coy. 1st Bat. Hertfordshire Regiment. 118th Bde, 39th Div. Died 31st July 1917 age 24. Track X Cemetery. Ypres. Son of Charles William & Louisa Amos, 13 Coronation Avenue, Braintree. 

Kellick T. Shoeing Smith Corporal T KELLICK 75909. 8th Div. Ammunition Col., Royal Field Artillery. Died age 22 on 31 July 1917. BRANDHOEK NEW MILITARY CEMETERY. 31st July 17. Brother of Julia Holmes, of Rose Cottages, Coggeshall Rd., Braintree.

Rix A.C. Private Arthur Charles RIX 225291. 1st Bn. London Regt. (Royal Fusiliers) 167th Bgde, (56th Division) Died on 31 July 1917. Reburied in Hooge 2nd May 1919 after being identified by his disc. HOOGE CRATER CEMETERY. Ypres. 1891 father Charles a Baker, mother Anna living New Street. Elder sister Winifred one year older.

AUGUST

Cooper. G. Rifleman George Cooper 41213. 10th Battalion. Royal Irish Rifles. 107th Brigade. 36th (Ulster) Division. Died 5th Aug 1917. YPRES (MENIN GATE) MEMORIAL. Battle of Langemark. Son of Joseph Cooper, 57 South Street, Braintree.

Benham F.J. Rifleman Frederick James Benham 41282. 10th Batt. Royal Irish Rifles. (formerly 31899 Essex Reg) Died 6th Aug 1917, age 34. Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial. Killed by German shell. Father William a butcher in Bradford Street (Benham & Sons).

Beresford. F. Private Frank Beresford. 43515. 10th Batt. Essex Regiment. 53rd Brigade, 18th (Eastern) Division. Died 11th August 1917. Brandhoek New Military Cemetery, Ypres.  Died of wounds. Born Bethnal Green, son of a silk weaver and worked at Warners.

Edwards W.H. Private William Henry 60358. 11th Batt. Royal Fusiliers. 54th Brigade, 18th (Eastern) Division. Died 10th Aug 1917. Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial. Wife Elsie Beatrice (nee Cooper) Edwards. A groom at the White Hart before enlisting, married at Black Notley Church 3rd Oct 1912.

Archer E.C. Driver Edward Charles Archer L/4883. 'C' Battery. 153rd Brigade Royal Field Artillery.  Died 12th August 1917. Age 33. Born Surbiton, son of Thomas & Lucy Archer, of Bocking, Essex. Husband of Rose Ellen Archer, of Staines Road, Sunbury, Middx. Butchers assistant by profession. Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial

Newman E. L/Corporal Ernest Newman G/29708, 16th Battalion. Duke of Cambridge's Own (Middlesex) Regiment.  Died 19th August 1917, age 35. Tyne Cot Memorial. A boarder at Bradford Street, Bocking. He was single and working as a Miller.

Wise W.W. Lance Corporal WILLIAM WALTER WISE. G/42790. 16th Bn., Middlesex Regiment. (Public Schools) XIV Corps. 86th Bde. 29th Division. ex 8th East Surrey Regiment. Died age 18 on 19 August 1917.

TYNE COT MEMORIAL. Ypres. Son of Walter and Laura Wise, of Green Lane, Bocking, Essex.

SEPTEMBER

Shelley T.R. Private Thomas Shelley 26238. 3rd Bn. Grenadier Guards. 2nd Guards Brigade. Guards Division. Died 19th Sept 1917. TYNE COT MEMORIAL. Family living in Coggeshall Road, Bocking.

Pickering F.W. Second Lieutenant Frank W. Pickering, 287th Siege Bty. Royal garrison Artillery. Died 20th Sept 1917. Pojitze Chateau Lawn Cemetery. Ypres. Prior to war worked as chemist at Crittalls Manufacturing Co, and was a patrol leader with the Braintree Boy Scouts.

Sargent H.W. Private HERBERT WALTER SARGENT G-24038. 7th Bn. The Buffs (East Kent Regiment) 55th Brigade, 18th (Eastern) Division. 5th Army (Gough). Died age 37 on 30 September 1917. NINE ELMS BRITISH CEMETERY. Third Ypres.  Husband of Mrs. Lily Rosina Sargent (nee Handley), of 66, Coggeshall Road, Braintree.

OCTOBER

Butcher. F. Driver Frederick Butcher 55727.28th Bty. 124th Bde. Royal Field Artillery. Died 9th Oct 1917. Age 25. Born Braintree. Mont Huon Military Cemetery, Le-Treport.  Worked horse pre-war at Straits Mill Farm, Bocking. "He was winner of regimental cup for best team of horses" Cup awarded for driving the gun team he had at Mons through three years of war without accident. Hit by shell and died of wounds.

Fuller. F.H. Rifleman FREDERICK HAROLD FULLER. S/28579, "A" Coy. 7th Bn., Rifle Brigade. (The Prince Consorts Own) 41st Brigade. 14th(Light) Division. XV Corps. (Formerly R/24061, K.R.R.C.) Died age 19 on 15th October 1917.  TYNE COT MEMORIAL. Son of Frederick James and Annie Fuller, of "Alwyne," Coggeshall Rd. Braintree.

Sibley F. Private Frederick Sibley 46615. 11th Bn. Leicestershire Regiment. (Midland Pioneers) Attd. 6th Division as Pioneers. Formerly 213958, Royal Engineers. Died 15th Oct 1917. Braintree. MENIN ROAD SOUTH MILITARY CEMETERY. Ypres. Married Gladys Radley in 1913 and worked at Hope Laundry, Rayne Road.

Turpin F. Private Frank Turpin 10118 (?) 1st Bn. South Staffordshire Regiment. 91st Bde. 7th Division. Died 22nd Oct 1917. Rayne. ST SEVER CEMETERY EXTENSION, ROUEN. Father & Eldest brother were Blacksmiths, and Frank an Iron Fitter.

Andrews, Horace Clive, G/68253. Private Royal Fusiliers posted to 2nd/4th Bn. London Regiment (Royal Fusiliers). 173rd Brigade, (58th Div). (XVIII Corps). Date of Death: 26/10/1917. CEMENT HOUSE CEMETERY. Passchendaele. Killed during advance either by bullet or shrapnel while with two others.  Lance Corporal checked him and then continued forwards.  The three wounded men remained in water filled shell holes.  Mud knee deep and walking difficult. Body recovered September 1919

Butler S.A. L/Corporal Sebastian Alfred Butler 295156. 2/4th London Regiment (Royal Fusiliers) Died 26th Oct 1917. Tyne Cot Memorial. Married Maud Elizabeth Rayner of Bocking at St Mary's Church, Bocking.

Townsend E.S. Private Ernest Sydney Townsend 67769. Posted to 2nd/4th Bn. London Regiment (Royal Fusiliers). 173rd Bde. 58th (2/1st London) Div. Died 26 Oct 1917. TYNE COT MEMORIAL. Born White Notley, moved to Braintree where his father, now a widower, was horseman on farm. Attended Old High School.

NOVEMBER

Jings, no-one!

Battle ended when Canadian troops took the Passchendaele Ridge on 

November 6^th and consolidated the ridge by the 10^th.

 

On Yer Bike!

I've noticed this bike parked here occasionally, the owner working nearby I suppose.  This is one of the machines that I lusted after in the days of long ago.  When aged a slender fifteen years (I'm 32 now) I would often stand outside Alexanders Showroom in Lothian Road dreaming of the wealth required to buy a BSA, Triumph or Norton Motorbike.  Earning £5:10 shillings a week, minus Nine shillings for National Insurance,meant this was just a dream.  In those days you had to be sixteen to get a licence, when I became sixteen they raised the age to seventeen!  It made no difference, I was only on something like seven pound a week then.  

Standing in Slateford Road just before then a rich young man on a brand new Royal Enfield with a bright red petrol tank trundled past my jealous eyes.  This was however the last Royal Enfield to be made and within a couple of years the company was dead, the result of much better Japanese bikes, Honda and Suzuki, dominating the market.  Royal Enfield had opened a factory in India where the bikes still sold successfully and that factory bought all the machinery in the West Midlands and still today continues to manufacture Royal Enfield bikes.  I suspect that in the Asian subcontinent the locals can fix these much easier than they could the Japanese versions.  Some are offered on sale in the UK and sell well today.

I did eventually obtain a Suzuki myself in 1976 which did not last as long as it ought, my technical skills were to the fore and I sold it cheap to my neighbour and moved far away.  It was a bit of fun at the time but not as romantic as a BSA Bantam or one of those large monsters that I leered at in the window.  I also found that while 1976 was a record heatwave year, the drought was fearful, rain however when it came was not a comfortable item to drive through on a motorbike.  I can still dream however and pretend I want and can afford and can avoid falling from a 650cc BSA brute!

A Day of Rest and a Visit.

Yesterdays early morning sun (I didn't see this mornings as I was still akip) shone brightly.  I struggled out of bed to attempt to clear up the mansion before my niece arrived.  This is her every eighteen month or so visit the intention being to see if I am still alive and to see if I have any money.  Sad to say she was disappointed in both endeavours!  Not only am I still alive (in one fashion at least) the money has not as yet made an appearance.  I took the opportunity to visit the museum to prove to the doubters that I actually had a talented family member.   

As my most beautiful and highly talented niece was only here for a few hours to run her finger over the dust on the mantelpiece and fail to engender any guilt from me while doing so it was a chance to eat properly, or so I thought.  I bought reasonably well and she ate it all!  We then talked, well I listened while she spoke of her world travels and musical talent.  I have musical talent also, daily I play the wireless!  At least she left some organic chocolate which has put a smile on my face and a hole in my teeth.

Today I have been recovering from the aches and pains, the tiredness and eventually clearing up the mess left from our dinner yesterday, the leftovers made an excellent breakfast!  I didn't realise until today how tired I was!  How it catches up with you when not expecting it.  
Next week, maybe tomorrow, I will begin my new exercise programme that I will devise.  I intend to get fit, certainly fit enough to meet my niece at the station and walk home as fast as she did.  I only puffed so much because  we were walking up a slight slope!  
Time for bed, it's just after six... 

What a Day!

They were queueing outside the door before ten this morning.  At the bells dinging on the Town Hall clock I opened the door and looked at the few in the queue and found the few went round the side of the building and down to the gate!  There must have been folks standing along the street but I dare not look out....
It took two of us to man the till and one to man the phone and deal with folks booking workshops for the kids!  We took the first money at ten and the queue just went on and on and on...  When there was a short break I checked the watch, 11:35 it read!
There were hundreds of them, kids bringing parents and grandparents and a few parents and grandparents bringing kids.  We soon ran out of small change and we had refreshed this three times! The short break was just that, we never got a chance to move and discover how things were going on elsewhere as we had more folks coming in no time to stop.  Add to this the trouble of controlling two, three or more kids, the need to offer them trails and things to look for, and some coming in while others go out, you can imagine the controlled chaos.  Occasionally I asked "Are these all yours?" To receive the gleeful answer "No!"  There were questions re prices and kids wishing to buy this and that at the same time as this was going on, VIPs (they say) coming in to look (One councillor actually paid an entrance fee!  I made sure he had his receipt in case he needs to claim it back) and the VIPs then left speaking to everyone, well one i know spoke to me at least, then the people returned and he got shifted aside.

  
It was after one before I could be relieved for a tea stop.  My ten o'clock tea had been sipped twice in the morning and was somewhat tepid by one, and even then I got caught up in one of the two complaints we received.  However I soon fixed that - I put the kettle on and waited till she had gone home.
Only then could I visit the owls sitting quietly in the big hall.  Five of them just sitting staring at folks and waiting till the camera was focused on them before turning their heads around!  Brutes!  These owls are lovely things.  Five different sizes, all apparently happy, none fussy about the visitors, kept at a  discreet distance, and one keen to sit on the ladies hand rather than the stool provided.  These creatures are worth a look up close if you ever get the chance.

   
Not much chance to take other pictures today.  Far too busy at first with the till and the folks arriving and as always we have to be careful taking pictures with children about.  On top of that I was too tired by then to care!  The place was flooded with people, the temperature rising and I just wanted to go home for the Swedish massage (which has not appeared) and sleep for 24 hours.  
The magician, the card trick man the potion tray (very popular as they all took small bottles filled with potions home with them) and all the other things appeared to be popular.  Only two complaints were heard but out of 500 or so visitors that's not bad. 
Now I just wish to sleep...

Another Book!

Amazon

This is a good book!

The fact that it arrived as a birthday pressie was nothing to do with my comment, free books are better than paid for books but this is indeed a good read.

What this book is not is an entire history of the SAS, I suspect that is unlikely for some years as many operations are still regarded as secret.  It is however an authorised World War Two history compiled by access to diaries and letters and some of the men themselves.  

Ben MacIntyre is a well known military author and some of his books have featured here before.  He offers a gripping but not excitement lead tale of the origins of the SAS after Commando style operations in the Middle East failed and David Stirling came up with the idea of attacking the enemy from behind overland.  

British army officers were like soldiers everywhere reared on discipline and organisation unlikely to be keen on any idea which appeared to offer rogue soldiering which they could not control.  Major wars are of course fought between two organised armies numbering thousands of men, small groups wandering off on their own frightened many staff officers.  David Stirling, the young officer who wished to live outside the hidebound army routine was one they distrusted!  They had reason to distrust him.  

The failure of sea led attacks on German held North African ports gave opportunity for Stirling's small force to take their opportunity.  Parachuting into a storm, the pilots miles of course, many men suffering injury and what was left of the secret assault a failure it appeared life was not going to be kind to this infant group.  

However already operating in the deserts of Egypt and Libya were the Long Range Desert Group (LRDG).  These men knew the desert like taxi drivers know their towns and were used for spying on enemy movements.  This led Stirling to make use of their drivers and arrange a small force to attack enemy airfields well behind the lines destroying infastructure and hindering enemy movements.  It also required, as time past, more security and men at airfields and important points.  

Within a short time Stirling had collected an assortment of tough experienced fighters who endured strict training.  Men who could, and did, walk forty miles without drinking from their water bottles in the midday heat, men who could navigate at night, move stealthily near the enemy and when required could be ruthless.  This produced a wide section of men from a variety of nations who proved equal to the task.  Constant attacks on airfields and enemy positions upset enemy morale, especially the Italians, most of them did not wish to be in the war anyway, damaged their materiel and enabled the British and Allied forces to hinder General Rommels attacks and under British  General Montgomery eventually push them back out of north Africa altogether.

This was was considered a 'clean war' against a 'clean enemy 'the Afrika Corps.'  Men fought to the death but acts of needless murder were not encouraged.  Once they moved into Italy via Sicily things were to change.

David Stirling was by this time held as a Prisoner of War, one who constantly attempted escape, and was in the end incarcerated in Colditz Castle where he ended the war.  His force continued, now much more popular with the fighting Generals if not with those back in the far off offices.  Terrific firefights in Italy which cost many lives in horrific situations began to shape a new mentality for the SAS.  As their numbers grew so did the challenges and operating behind the lined in France before D-Day saw several SAS groups deal not just with the German army but also the more deadly SS troops.  They also had to endure the ressistance fighters who continually split into various factions and spent much time arguing with one another.  On occasions spies amongst them led to enemy action that often caught them onthe hop. 

Having gone before the army in the desert, in Italy and now in France the SAS, now featuring French and Belgian battalions and again containing people from many lands led the way into Holland and Germany.  Fierce fighting, with no back up, often occurs.  

Then in April as the war nears it's end they came across Belsen concentration camp.

This book does not glorify the actions of the SAS though it is a gripping read.  The desert tales left me with a comradeship feeling towards these men, one that all soldiers require and one that took them through their war.  I confess I would have failed the entry requirements!  No matter how strog a man considers himself the war has effects he cannot lose.  It was not different for those that survived the struggle.  Many who began in the desert did not see the wars end, others disappeared in the forests in which they hid, still others were captured and shot out of turn according to Hitler's orders to kill all commandos without mercy.  Not all German army officers were willing to give such orders.  

After the war almost all men found routine life boring.  Some settled down others unsettled lives ended in tragedy.  The mental effects of killing and seeing comrades killed has an effect on the toughest.  Some remain alive even today, many from that war remain but surely not for much longer.
The SAS were at first accepted reluctantly, after the war they were quickly disbanded and not long afterwards once again revived.  Special forces were seen as a requirement of warfare in the early 1950's and during the 'Cold War' period.  So effective were the SAS that all countries soon adopted similar groups.  The French and Belgians of course were quick to do so, other nations followed but it took the US until 1977 to for such a force. All were based on David Stirling's idea of a loose group silently and secretively operating behind the lines.  A special type of man, one who does not boast about his achievements, good or bad.
 

I found this one of those books I could not put down and was rather annoyed it ended.  That does not happen often.  Partly it was the story, war stories are exciting when the bullets are 70 or so years away from me, partly it was the excellent writing, mostly it was the feeling of comradeship that came through, comradeship in fighting a good casue in a dirty war, and in Europe the war was a dirty war, and fighting for a cause with good comrades.  My other books appear tame by comparison.

    

 David Stirling on right.

Now I'm Not One to Complain...

Wandering through our exciting town centre I came across a couple of Alpaca's sitting in a small cage wondering what they were doing there.  Beside them a couple of not to keen goats stared at the kids touching them and in a cage were four small birds, quail possibly but I am not sure, no notice was seen.  The centre often has animals but for what reason these appeared was not clear, the place was not too busy either, maybe the animals scared folks off?

The locals have been at it again.  They spend an enormous amount of time looking at old photos and grumbling "It was better back then," or "Life was easier," and "It was safer then."  Each shop picture brings groans that "I preferred the little shops," "Bring back small shops" "It's all Tesco's fault!"  The thing that bugs me is the reason there is no small shops is the peoples decision to shop at Tesco!  Small shops cannot compete with the like of large supermarkets, though we still have a butchers on the go, and he is struggling because so many use the supermarkets as they are cheaper!  
The woman who once wandered around carrying a heavy shopping bag or two visiting the grocer, the baker and the ironmonger were happy to be chatted up by each money grabbing shopkeeper who paid his staff the least he could while dodging tax as much as possible yet if they had to do this today they would avoid it as Tesco is easier!   Yet they still grumble "It was better back then!"  Aye it was as you were seven years old and your mum carried the bags!  
Old photos bring the cry "It was better back then" more than the shops ad I must explain to these dreamers that the old men in the photos are grumbling to the kids round about that "It was better in the past!"  People don't want to believe me, we believe what we wish to be true rather than facts which upset us by removing the dream.  The past was never better it is just our better lives were found there, and we have forgotten the fears, poverty and long hours adults had in the past.  How strange that wealthy fat people long for a time when they would be struggling all day and never give thanks for what they actually have in front of them, we just spend time wishing we had something else, something more!  The rich and well fed are more unhappy than the poor!

 
What is the difference between an Alpaca and a Llama anyway...?
I now know!  Alpacas were bred for the wool and some meat, the Llama as a beast of burden, camel like.  One male Llama in amongst sheep or goats protects the herd very effectively from predators.  Some are found in the UK I hear.  Llamas are of course bigger than Alpacas.

Ah Summer Time!

We have missed the worst of the summer storms around here.  The other night I noticed, around four in the morning, lightning flashing in the distance, no thunder was heard but some claim it was noted elsewhere in town.  I suggest they were just light sleepers. Today there was no lightning, no thunder just a long shower lashing rain on the unfortunates who, dressed for summer, were caught out walking in the open when it arrived.  I didn't laugh at the drookit men waking past heading for a pub to dry off.
Now, shortly afterwards, the sun shines brightly, the day is very warm though a bit humid and I am once again inside.  No reason to go outside, no money to spend and nothing I need buy until tomorrow.  So I just sit here joining in the newspaper online columns grumbling about things and offering my twopence worth.  Already by nine this morning I had one enemy for life!  Good going I say. 

 
Is it just me or are blogs being used less these days?
True it is that I have done little in recent days.  I have not got out and about as I would like and there has been little to see in this little town.  Indeed the only nearby event I missed because I was asleep all day!  I know others have been sick, some have changed circumstances and life moves on but it appears from here that there are fewer to read these days and like me they are less regular in their production. 
However from this end I am making a start in doing something about my health, something about life in general and hoping to save cash at the same time.  I may even get out and about and see some of the summer activities that occur.  The trouble with these is the belief that everyone has a car and can reach out of the way places where train and bus do not run!  These often occur on a Sunday also, the day public transport in out of the way places does not run!  Grrrrr!
Being stuck inside in a small town does not offer a lot of variety even though there are events occurring.  Anyway I want to get out and see things that I have missed or did not know about, this area has many hidden away and I need to find an attractive (and not too bright) woman to drive me about so I can see them.

But good news, there is football on telly tonight!
What...?
The same to you!

Tory Grumbling While Rolling in it.

Oh what a fuss, the BBC pays its people lots of money and folks now complain, what a 'to do!'

In the days of long ago when Maggie Thatcher was king the back bench Tories shouted loudly about BBC bias and questioned whether there was a need for a licence fee, how times change?  The Tory back bench demanded programmes that reached a mass audience rather than just the quality programmes then available on the BBC.  To answer this Michael Grade was appointed and he introduced 'Eastenders' a soap opera that has done more to lower the standards of behaviour in the UK and elsewhere than anything other than Rupert Murdoch's 'Sun.'  Other such tripe were produced and quality has ever since been shoved aside in the search for ratings.
Recently BBC employees whether staff or entertainers have been criticised for huge payments, this by Tory back bench MP's earning £74,000 plus all the other jobs and 'appearences' they make and having a cabinet in which each and every one of them is a multi millionaire. (Hunt the Health Secretary now engaged n selling the NHS to private operators has masses of shares in said operators, he is also the richest member of the cabinet!)  This outcry, taking up willingly by the 'Daily Mail' (Editor Paul Dacre on £2 million a year plus) and other Tory rags.  The Beeb then lowered some of the big names salaries, including the Director General and when this failed to stop the whining decided today to reveal the names of those who earn over £15,000 a year.  It must be stated that many do not get paid PAYE but form themselves into 'companies' and thus avoid much tax (Tory style).
The outcry, much expected and mostly jealously unleashed, was drowned out by that other paper seller the 'gender imbalance.'  This is an invention middle class women have come up with to grumble about men earning more than they do.  So today the usual suspects were brought out complaining Gary Linekar get almost £2 million for a football programme and no woman is anywhere near this.  This argument ignores Claudia Winkleman, one of the worst females ever to appear on the screen gets pad £450,000 for doing almost nothing!  Some blond on the 'Now Show' another piece of emptiness from the BBC gets similar for what?  The number of empty meaningless women paid over £150,000 is staggering yet the cry is there are not enough of them?  This cry often from the women who are looking for such jobs! 
The real reason for the gender gap' (note how we never say 'sex' these days) is that the men are better at the job and  bring in the viewers, in TV and radio that is what matters.  That is also why some women have their jobs, not that they are good but that women respond to them, BBC Breakfast staff please note.
I was shocked to say the least when I saw some payments however, Stephan Nolan getting half a million?  Nothing justifies this.  Chris Evans £2,25 million?  How on earth he gets this I fail to understand, just as Jeremy Vine pulling in over £700,000 for a crap radio show and as a bad quizmaster on 'Eggheads.'  How often he does not know the answers to things I knew in primary!  

When you think about it the payouts are not in media terms excessive.  Had these folks gone to ITV they would often get twice or three times the money, maybe we ought to be glad they stay where they are?  The women whine as always yet never mention the abundance of female newsreaders (Sophie Rayworth getting £250,000 for reading a prompt) and the vast number of women on BBC sport, mostly ignorant of their subject.  I could mention 'Farming Today, produced and presented by women but always it is male farmers interviewed, sexism here clearly.  Sexism works two ways but the women never notice this.  It is of course 'selfishness' not 'sexism' that is at the root.    
The market sets the prices on offer, the Tory party back bencher will wallow in grumbling until something is done then head off to earn a great deal more than anyone in the Beeb, but that appears to be OK.  This does not bother me overmuch, happiness does not come from the cash obtained by fronting poor programmes or getting jobs because of who you know, and this happens everywhere in life.  Life is more than cash and we live well without it, don't we?