Sunshine

The sun keeps shining and inevitably everyone is getting tired and grumpy.  As for myself this does not make much of a difference.  Remaining indoors, where even this place is warm and air is hard to find, avoids direct heat.  However, the tiredness is showing and occasional grumpiness can be noted elsewhere.  Ideal weather for riots, domestic abuses, and gang fights on the coast.

I avoided all this indoors, and instead watched a game featuring our lower tier local club playing in the 6th division (south).  Considering the heat and the tiredness later in then game only one fracas broke out.  How many pounds the men lost playing in near 30% c I do not know.  Lots of drinking on the way home I bet.

All this while I have gone deaf in one ear.  All around me people are suffering serious problems, I have gone deaf because of wax!  I foolishly washed today, my ears got wet, I tried to avoid them, but now wax has moved and I am half deaf.  No matter what I do, and I used plenty of the stuff in those wee bottles, I remain one eared.  

Not much else is happening, or the media are keeping quiet about it.  Rishi is in India trying to make money, for himself, the Tories are pointing the finger everywhere except at themselves, and kids are back in school, and the press are full of mums whining about uniforms. 

Not much changes...

Edward William Cooke - Sunset on the Lagoon of Venice

'Indian Summer' & 'The Great North Road,' Steve Silk.

 

The 'Indian Summer' as we used to call it, continues.  This leaves me wondering why we no longer call it 'Indian Summer?'  Has someone complained?  You know what to say to them!  Yesterday and today we have seen a haze caused by Saharan sand blowing high into the atmosphere, and sometime landing upon us.  You can just see a bit of haze in the photo.  With the temperatures reaching over 30 C outside you can understand how nothing is happening.  Not that much happens here anyway.  A trip to Tesco before 9 am was a warm walk there and back.  Their air conditioning was cold, I was too warm outside, and the talk was of spiders, one ran across the checkout as I gathered the goods.  She can keep that one as a pet, but appeared unwilling.  I think she has got down off her stool by now.  

This is a good book.  It is of a type I like.  Here the writer gets on his bike and cycles 400 miles from London to Edinburgh following the 'Great North Road.'  Today, this road is called the 'A 1' but as you may expect the road has varied from the original, whatever that was, over the years.  Take into account the changes, the double carriageways, the 'Motorway' aspects where this becomes the 'A1(M)' and the ever present danger of vehicles attempting to eat the lone cyclist, you will understand that it is not possible to ride the actual, possibly unknown, original, 'Great North Road.' (GNR).  

This sort of book features the author trundling through the country, explaining the history, the lie of the land, the places to eat, sleep, and the people met along the way.  Some have great humour, this one only in passing.  Nonetheless, it is well worth a read.

Of course, as I may have mentioned around 500 times already, I cycled in the other direction in 1974, when I was considerably younger, and even more stupid than I am now.  Then I had an idea for a cheap holiday, buy a bike, ride off and enjoy.  This I did, but only after riding the bike up the hills to the Royal Infirmary where I worked and coasting back down again at night.  I did not realise that six months of hard riding was required preparation!   

Steve Silk, a man in his 50s was less stupid than I.  He spent time riding over 100 miles gaining strength and planning his route.  He also made notes for a book, clever man.  This is the result.

Steve begins his ride from Aldersgate in London's centre.  Then he works his way north via Smithfield and Islington, though whether this is the exact GNR I am not convinced.  Struggling on a bike through London' snarling traffic is no joke, I have done it and would never consider doing it today, he makes his way north.  London, as anyone with a map can see, is big, very big, and cycling north takes time.  On the way a cyclist is able to see the world in a manner car drivers will never understand.  He describes London's variety, the rough has always lived close to the smooth, and all the time he picks out historical pubs and events as he rides.

As the author describes London's variety he also notices the world changing as he goes north.  Attitudes north of Watford, as well as accents, change constantly.  The further north, the friendlier and more chatty the people.  Chatty friendly people in London?  Your having a laff mate.  

The people change, as does the names of cakes and bread rolls, the land and the people produced reflect the history he passes, and he passes much history.  Battles have been fought for thousands of years on these lands, some famous, others forgotten, no matter how bloody.  Many a battlefield has gone into history but no-one actually knows where it was fought!  This author finds many a battlefield on his ride up the GNR.

Eventually he reaches Edinburgh, his ride from Berwick via Dunbar revealing the state of English knowledge of Scots and English history.  He appears surprised that English thugs savaged Scotland with countless raids, implying only Scots did this!  All to often the scant English knowledge of Scotland creeps out.  Crossing the border he likens it to a county crossing, wondering why the Northumberland 'England' sign is accompanied by a Northumberland flag, an English flag and a Union Jack, yet the 'Scotland' sign has only three St Andrews saltires flying.  He has no grasp of his own history or understanding of Scotland bar eating porridge for breakfast!  

In Edinburgh he again ignores the city determined to get back on the train south.  His mate, he has been accompanied for the last three days, forces him to look at the old town, where once again he fails to understand the city.  Two hours after arriving he heads south.

The authors failures as a historian of Scotland and England are to be expected.  His ride does contain much worth reading, in England, and gave me the same senses I felt in my ride of long ago.  While at that time I did not take into account the history in the same way, I certainly saw the changes of the land and the people.  This book brings back memories for me, and will do the same for any who cycle out into the country.  Riding a bike is hard work, but the back lanes offer views most miss.  The ability to stop and look anywhere is a joy for a cyclist, and today many cafe's and eating places abound in a way they did not in the past.  

This book reflects the changes to the 'Great North Road' over the past 50 years as well as the people living on and near the great highway.  The millions who have trod this way, or close by, from people individually, drovers with cattle, merchants walking or on horse or stagecoach, to the drivers in the years after the war, lorry drivers pounding hundreds of miles a day, to today's comfortable car enthusiast or mad cyclist, all have memories of this Great North Road.

I recommend this book.

Dog and Sick Woman

Here we are, halfway through another week and still nothing has happened.

Well, nothing much has happened to me, but it has happened to others.  Another aged friend decided to celebrate the 60th wedding anniversary by falling over and breaking something.  Having carried various sicknesses for most of her life, now being on dialysis, and as we speak going through that while awaiting an operation tomorrow for the break, I remember how lucky I am.  I worry that the tough old bird will struggle with the anaesthetic afterwards, it does take it out of you, and she has little to take out.  Clearly this has occurred just to upset the family, women are like that.

The call informing me came early in the morning, a time always likely to engender thoughts of the worst outcome.  However, while all appears under control, in spite of Tory assaults on the NHS, ambulances, beds, doctors and nurses, and other staff, she has been well looked after, though it has taken time.

Nothing exciting happened for me today except talking to a dog or two as I crossed the park.  I enjoy it when dogs approach looking for friends.  This is not that they care for you, they just wish to see what they can get out of you!   This one, seen in a stolen picture, belong to my niece, though it spends most time with her daughter when she gets home from work.  He too is unwell.  Indeed the vet told them he ought to be put down, it was the best thing.  They considered this, however, he mentioned a treatment involving a series of very expensive injections that may give him another year or so, and they opted for that.  Having dad working as a builder, and daughter on good money, and desperate to keep the dog alive they are paying out large sums for him.  

Dogs do this to people.

Car Show: at Braintree & Bocking Gardens 2023

I played truant from the Kirk on Sunday.  The service was going to be a long one and I conversed with myself as to missing it, I agreed with myself, and then went over to the gardens for the car show.

The 'Pickup Truck' seen here is one of those things many worldwide long for.  In the UK and much of Europe it means little, but the wide open spaces in such lands as the USA, New Zealand and Australia, saw a need among farmers and others for such vehicles.  

The Ford Model 'T' was adapted as far back as 1917 into a 'pickup' and developed somewhat during the 1920s.  However, as far as I can make out it was in 1940 when General Motors introduced the 'AK Series' that what we know as a 'Pickup truck' first appeared.  Ford soon followed and a generation of young Americans saw the vehicle as their main aim.  In the UK we still longed to afford a bike!

This one on show looked somewhat tarnished, but I bet the price to buy would be great.

The Ford Anglia.  This car sits in my mind as representing the period when the UK found the modern world.  No longer would cars all be black, nor would they be curved all round, instead the modern US styled fashion was here.  A bright ne world existed and was to be cherished.  Mind you, I was only 10 years old!  

The 'Zodiac,' another example of the modern desire to copy the flash US cars of the late 1950s.  Old people may remember these cars as fronting the revolutionary TV police programme called 'Z Cars.' Here, the modern police ran around in white Zodiacs catching criminals in a new manner and putting the world to rights.  The series lasted for many years.

Personally I would prefer one of these.  Ideal for us young bucks while running around during the summertime, especially down by the seaside.  Of course I may be confusing US adverts and movies with a day under the Haar at Cramond beach, but you know what I mean.

I did not hang around long enough to discover who got prizes for the machines, but when I saw this 'Alvis' I gave it top prize.  Of course I had not seen half the cars there at the time but this car looked what a car ought to be.  Running boards over the wheel, huge headlights, bright radiator, and a wonderful wee mannie on the front.

The wee mannie...

While as a 10 year old I looked into the future of vehicle travel, now I look at this curved beauty and realise my mistake.  US imitations are well enough but this 'Morris' had a quality that the flat air resistant cars of today lack.  It may weigh a ton, be slow, and in todays world unsafe, but it looks like  bit of class in comparison to cars today.

It is always difficult to beat a Jaguar, and this is a beauty!   I think this is the 'D' Type, but I found nothing to confirm this as I pushed and shoved the fantasists of all ages dreaming of being John Surtees or Stirling Moss.  

A roll bar added to the 1965 great, but nothing else.  I would be scared to drive fast in this in case it rolled and scratched the paint.  The car is too good to drive fast!

This may be more my 'cup of tea.'  Slow, in danger of tumbling over at all times, and in danger of attack by 'Mr Bean!'  

As always there are the bikes, with many a biker gathered together talking about bikes and boring everyone in the family around them.  Fabulous set of bikes of past ages.  I bet many of these men have a 'Honda' at home...

Situated in front of the war memorial is a vehicle from the 1950s.  The 'Ferret Mk 2,'   Built by 'Daimler' in 1948 and brought into service between 1952 -1971 the 5000 'Ferrets' were a scout car that saw service with the British Army and many other friendly nations.  This one lives in the locale.

A different type of 'Daimler.'

A different type!

Entertainment of suitable vintage was available, and these two were very good indeed.

This is only a sample of the days 165 pictures. 

 I will put the rest on the Photo Page.

'The Daily Telegraph,' Great Niece, MEMHAS and the Moon

I must say, beginning the day by reading the Letters in the 'Telegraph' are a good way to start.  The gift of a free digital edition from afar has been excellent.  OK, the news slant is just as daft as the 'Daily Mail,' however, the writing is writing and not exaggerated fear, or pages of celebrities and their divorces.  I even managed to spend 18 minutes failing to finish the wee crossword!  'The Telegraph' has always been the Conservative Party paper, since Boris rose to influence however, it has gone very much downmarket, losing masses of readers and failing to find new ones.  The paper does not satisfy old Conservatives, many of whom it must be said are dying off, and the new breed of Tory prefers the slanted half truths and downright lies of the 'Daily Mail' and the 'Sun,' which is all some can handle.   

The owners, the Barclay Brothers, have lost control, with Lloyds Bank taking over and seeking someone to buy the paper.  One Barclay brother has died, the other is in a many years long dispute with a former wife, the family all seeking the money taking sides, and he is one step from jail, though his age has so far kept him out.  One line of the family has made an offer to buy back the paper, another offer comes from a rich American, one who backed Boris and may wish him as editor!  Imagine!  A third offer from another unworthy neo-Nazi has also been made.  Good luck with your selection Lloyds Bank.  I wonder if they will delay this until after the election, the government always has an input here.

Another interesting sideline here is 'Private Eye.'  They usually have a story or two about the office infighting to record, something the paper itself appears not to print.  Always interesting how the media never publish their own faults, crimes and criminals.  I wonder why?

Anyway, after a couple of the usual anti-ULEZ scribbles, a man from Tunbridge Wells among those attacking the charge, two others mentioned the ease of getting on a train at Croydon and reaching central London, avoiding mileage, waiting, queues, and costs.  Maybe some in Tunbridge Wells did not realise trains run there?

Yesterdays post, one of my many great nieces spouting about 'Linear A,' and 'Linear B,' with all the knowledge of someone who cannot pronounce the big words, was meant to actually appear here, on this post.  My tech knowledge is great, I can make a mess of anything technical, from a pencil up!  While her video all appears Greek to me it does reflect her interest, qualifications, and desire to promote archaeology to the world.   I prefer when she offers local Scots stories mind, she is good at that.

Needing a passport picture for a new 'Railcard,' the other one died out with almost no use thanks to Covid, I sauntered around the town looking for a machine.  Naturally, these no longer take cash, naturally the seat is too high and will not adjust, naturally the instructions are shouted at 'Tannoy' decibel level, and naturally I got it wrong, twice.  Eventually, after much pushing of buttons, much scanning a poor screen to see if anything was working, and paying £9 by card, I got my pictures.  Two it gave are classed as 'Not Conform' to passport standards.  The four others are, but who is that in the picture?  The last time I saw that face it was on the Essex Police Twitter feed!  I bet he has 'Love' and 'Hate' tattooed across his knuckles.  He could at least have had a shave!  Scruff!

I returned via the various cafe's.  One was busy, another closed, Thursday is a quiet day here, and 'MemHas' the Turkish café was then my eating place today.  And jolly good it was too!

A wide menu, friendly, helpful staff, and very busy even for a Thursday.  The staff never stopped, many customers were obviously regulars and welcomed back, and the prices equal to similar places.  For me I had what they called an 'American.'  This featured two hash browns, two bacon, Two eggs, and three large slim pancakes with a couple of bits of fruit and maple syrup.  I did enjoy this!  In America the same thing would no doubt be several times larger, but this was enough for me and well worth the £9:45 it cost.  Again, if I cooked for myself the cost would turn out about the same, this way is better.

MEMHAS, a family run shop, originate in Istanbul according to the picture on the wall.  They have established themselves here over six years and I expect them to continue for a long time yet.  This is one place I would recommend, and excellent café.    

Another 'Blue Moon.'  This one, like the last 'Blue Moon,' was not Blue, just a kind of yellowish here, possibly caused by street lights flickering in that direction.  By that I do not mean there were street lights on the moon, what I meant was... anyway, it looked normal colour to me.  They say two full moons in a month means it becomes a 'Blue Moon,' but surely two full moons in a month means the moon is running around faster or the earth has stopped moving?  Could it be aliens responsible for this?  You may not think so, but somewhere in the USA somebody is claiming that to be the case, then shooting everyone in sight.  It's what they do...

Louise Raynor
 

CRACKING THE LINEAR A CODE?? Archaeologist REACTS to new Linear A Breakt...

The St Andrews Story (The Burgh Series) / Scotland's History

Shakespeare Café, Braintree

Shakespeare Café

Having risen at the usual time, even though it is a Monday Bank Holiday, I sat lamenting my life for a while at the laptop, including lamenting the fact that the spare laptop would not switch on last night, and downed coffee in a vain attempt to waken up.

By 9:30 I decided to venture out into the chilly sunshine and cross the greenery in the park.  The need for a small bit of green is within us all, though not if it is growing on the wall.  So, off I trotted, passing only a couple of dog walkers, and a young dad proving eh is a 'modern man' by walking the two Labradors along with a pram.  The dogs were too much under control, but dad will think he is 'strong.'

I wonder what my nieces would say to him?

Slowly hobbling up the hill I decided to breakfast in the 'Shakespeare Café.'  You will note the spellchecker ensures 'café' is always spelt correctly!  This was indeed a good idea.  Not long after 10 ish I was served by one of the two friendly staff.  These places make it easy today, the menu has set breakfasts etc, and all you do is choose one and ask for 'Set 2 please.'  This gave me a decent sausage, two eggs, on fried bread, two bacon, two hash browns, a wee bowl of beans, tea and two thick slices of bread, all for £9 plus small tip.

As I ordered it did not sound much, but in time a large plate appeared and I realised just how much there was here.  By the time I looked at the two toasts I thought I might not finish it all!  But I did!

A very good clean café, with friendly staff, usually lots of customers, today I arrived when it was quiet, and I certainly intend to make use of this place again.  Neatly laid out, tidy, well cared for and I suspect a great many regular customers.  I recommend this place!

Of course, now I am stuffed I can hardly move.

After this, I carried my increased bulk into Sainsburys, chatting to a Labrador pup guarding the owner at the door, and picking up a bag of wee orange things without a label thus holding up the ever growing queue at the other end.  I blethered my way out of their unspoken fuming, and ran for the door.

Altogether it has been a good morning, now to see what can go wrong with the day.

As I left the Kirk yesterday I sauntered along a road I have not walked for years.  The long way home took me past things often noticed but never pictured before.  The old museum habit of taking shots of anything remotely of historical interest has not died.  So, the school sign, declaring it was Essex built in 1929 somewhat boastfully is taken.  Not a school anymore, but still used for kids in some way. 

At the bottom of the hill stands the 1930s pub 'The Oak.'  Now long changed use it stands on the busy  corner.  This picture shows how much things have changed in just over 100 or so years.  

The 1930s building stands slightly to the right of this ancient one.   Judging by the motorbikes and the fashions in the picture this may be around 1914 time.  The distant houses have gone, industrial use now, but at first sight, apart from the rickets, 60 hour weeks, and low pay, life appears more leisurely. 

Only those who know their history would realise this lonely, and probably unused light appears to be part of the original 'Lake & Elliot' factory.  Most buildings remain, all in some sort of use, but only one such as I would jump to a conclusion, probably wrong, that this is ancient.

I limped home, getting slower as I moved, wondering if anyone tends these plants that appear to grow wild at the side of the road?  Possibly the council tend them, but I have never seen any action here.  Still, this is better than another fence, however well painted.

Beasties

Todays boring post concerns Bluebottles.  Yes those nasty large flys that usually come in one window, 

flutter around and depart by the way they entered.  This week life has been different.  All week such beasties have entered by the back window, moved to the main window, and remained there.

Now this happens often with worker Bees, and as far as I can make out a hive has found a home in our attic, thus Bees are coming in regularly.  These beasts need help escaping, bluebottles usually just wish to run away.  This is not happening now.  Every time I look up there are three or four wandering across the glass, none appear capable of returning or seeking to return by the way they entered.  This I keep having to rise, open the window, let in the draught, it is chilly today, and force them out.

I wonder why they are doing this, instead of escaping?

Is it the weather?  Do they think it is Spring?  Are they Donald Trump supporters?  I am bemused, this has not occurred before.  What is more bemusing is the removal of anything they could eat.  All rubbish has been dumped, what is bringing them in?  

It is all very confusing for a Saturday.

Through in the west wing I found this wee boy hanging about the window.  I am actually happy to see him, whatever kind or size of spider he may be, as this is a better way to curtain the other less welcome beasties that can be found at this time of year.  

I cleared away some old webs the other day, clearly there are areas that see few unwelcome guests, and am happy to allow such as he where he can settle in for a while.  One or two webs have been found in the same spot for years, clearing the enemy from the house and keeping a 'Boris the Spider' quite happy.  My only other worry about these creatures is finding a quite large spider, then not knowing where it went!  

St Petersburg

Busy Friday

Last night, while slugging my Greek wine from Patra, I watched the Heart of Midlothian slug it out with PAOK from Greece.  Jolly good it was too!  Especially this little man here, Kenneth Vargas, a wee ball of fire who enlisted with us after Leaving Herediano in Costa Rica.  While he has a lot of adaption to the Scottish game to go through it is clear he has the correct drive and intention from what we witnessed last night.  The first game may have been lost, the second will be a hard game next Thursday, but we are positive and looking forward to the game.  Whatever happens, this is where we must be aiming for!

After another busy Friday, Hoovering, ironing, shopping among crowds, and even exercising I find no energy to eat.  I instead of food have one of these, as they are supposed to be full of Vitamin 'C.'  The feeble, skin covered chips, I found to go with it do not appear to possess any vitamins of any kind.

The day tomorrow is now free, nothing to do but eat, sleep, pray and ache all over.  I'm looking forward to it.

Thursday Mumble

Another summers day in Essex.

I have been half asleep all day.  I woke early, half asleep, had breakfast half asleep, and scribbled a couple of emails before 8 am, half asleep.

I may not get a response!

There has been a lot of scribbling, but not much progress.   The hoovering, like the exercising, has not got itself done.  There again neither has the ironing.

However, the last washing has been attended to.  

A blanket required a scrub, this was done.  After a long wash, like they all are these days, 2 hours and 6 minutes!  The blanket came out.  Though after it finished I forgot to remove it for two hours again.

Unfortunately the rim of the blanket has problems.   This I discovered when a cloud of white specks formed around me and remain, even now, on the filthy floor.  A white carpet of woollen bits that is getting everywhere!  

They can wait until tomorrow and the hoovering will finally get done...

The football at least returns tonight.  We play the Greek side PAOK hoping to do better than Hibernian did last night, losing 5-0 against Aston Villa.  Whatever happens, I just hope we make a game of it.

Again I am amazed by the wonder of it all.  I can sit here watching on a laptop a football match taking place 400 miles away.  A short time lag, sometimes as much as a minute, may occur, but it is amazing that I can see this game live.  In days of yore we relied on the wireless to hear a commentator at a game.  Before that we could only read newspaper reports, never trustworthy at that.  Now I can watch the game almost live.

During the period from the mid 70s until the late 80s I saw little football, and what was available was always English.  It was as though I was living in a foreign country, not a United Kingdom.  Newspapers were rare then, radio and TV information almost unheard off, and nobody in this nation cared.  There is no United Kingdom, Scotland is just a colony of an imperialist England.  Without Scotland England would die, and they know it.  It is time to ensure this happens.

Cafe

 My exciting life reached new heights this morning when I strolled out, slowly, through town and into the 'Café CM7.'  Brunch was required, and after consultation with my wallet I decided paying for food in a café was equal to what has to be paid for foodstuffs cooked at home, minus the electric charge.  So it was a happy me that discovered this place very quiet at the time I thought would be busy, especially as it is Market Day and people flock into town to complain about the people flocking into town. 

As it was quiet I entered, sat at the back where I could watch everyone else, ordered two sausage, two eggs, two bacon, two tomatoes, beans and mushrooms and tea.  The usual 'Greasy Spoon' type stuff.  The young girl was polite, friendly, helpful and the Brunch was served at a reasonable speed.  While the sausages were not quite my type, the tomatoes two large Plum Toms, and the plate large enough to feed such as me, I was very happy with a cooked meal, cooked that is by someone else!  What a delight!  This meal cost £8.  I left the change from my tenner in the tip plate, and moved off happily with my day. 

Considering most meals I buy will cost about £5 by the time I have bought them, cooked them, and added other bits, I am happy with the price.  My choices of individual items may be different, but the costs run out similar, and the electric is switched off.  It also saves time.  So I am happy.

What excitement!  I really must get out more.

A Pigeon Post

The trouble with not feeling to good is that things do not get done.  This week I am feeling OK, so I have piles of washing, and piles of ironing to do.  The last shirt has been used, those lying there since last summer muct now be ironed!  This could wear me out again!

Sunday I felt terrific.  I ate well, drank sweet coffee and wandered down to the Kirk quite well, for me.  I felt good, confident and ready.  I had to be, I was doing the intercessions.  That is, at one point I rose above the mob and prayed (from my well prepared sheet).  This went down well with the vicar and wife, mostly because I prayed for them!  Mentioning her as a grannie, 'and so young' went down well with her.  Nobody among the congregation mentioned anything other than they.  

But as I came home I realised how much the churches prayers had lifted me and prepared me for my short slot.  The people's prayers make such a difference.  

I felt it on Sunday. 

I ought to have prayed for a woman to come and do my ironing!  Not that this would work with that lot!

'The Battle of the Beams'

When I received this birthday gift I did not expect to enjoy it.  Science has its uses but my little mind does not comprehend the terminology, or the many mathematical examples offered.  However, this book is written for those dim people among us, which pleased me greatly.

The point of the book concerns Radar, that wonderful the British invented to spot German aircraft attacking these shores.

One problem with that was an unfortunate fact, Germany already had Radar, and it was better than ours!  

One man, R.V. Jones, was given the task of dealing with Radar.  Actually while he spent much time alone fighting German devices, he worked alongside many others experts in this field.  

The main problem concerned Bombers.  Tracking their when they came here, and protecting ours when they crossed the Channel.  Both were difficult tasks.  The enemy were found to be using a Beam along which the Luftwaffe would fly, and a cross beam would meet this, indicating when to drop their bombs.  In theory this enabled the German bomber to always hit the target, human nature however, and the wind factor, often led to problems.  

It was Jones task to understand how this beam operated, work out an antidote and deal with it.  In time his work was successful.  However, as is always he case, the Germans were already working on a more advance system which he then had to defeat.  

Jones had messages coming from agents on the ground, who often died unknown to London, and aerial photographs to try and identify Beams based on the ground.  The majority of the work opposing their beams was however done in his head.  Mathematics, intelligence, luck, and a wide physics knowledge, enabled the British scientists, in time, to overcome their opponents.

One intriguing aspect was the refusal often, from higher authority to accept the enemy had better equipment, or scientists working ahead of the British!  Such Bull-headed approaches are not uncommon in the military world.  I suggest it remains the case today also.

During 1943 the cause changed, defence was less required, now it was attack.   

Radar was fitted to night fighters and bombers.  The Germans also fitted radar to their nightfighters, and while the war raged all around the wireless world hummed constantly to the sound of dots and ashes, bleeps and any noise that would confuse the enemy radar.  The British took to German speakers interfering in radio messages between German ground radar and the nightfighters, often arguing about who was the genuine article demanding the plane followed orders.  Confusion reigned and as time passed the German war machine crumbled.

The ability to spot a blip on a screen, indicating a plane in the sky some miles away, had by 1945, become a massive technological operation involving men and women on the ground throughout Europe and in the UK.  Those in Europe often dying when exposed by false friend or mistake.

R.V. Jones became professor in Physics at Aberdeen Uni after the war, on the recommendation of Winston Churchill himself.  He had won the 'Battle of the Beams,' and in secret at that.  Few working in these circumstances could make anything of their work, they were not supposed to speak of it for many years, so secret was the job.  

A different book regarding the war, but an interesting one just the same, on a subject I knew nothing about.  Education is a wonderful thing.  This book is worth a read, if science interests you.