All my life I have been plagued by death, or at least the threat of it. Fifty years ago I was shot by an IRA sniper at a place called Crossmaglen in Northern Ireland. I was fresh out of Sandhurst and he was having an off day. It was his last and I was left with a neat fore finger-sized hole in my left hip. Who knows where the copper-sheathed bullet ended up, it being what is called a through and through, in one side and out the other. I would have liked to have kept that as a souvenir. Why do people do that? Hang onto pieces of trivia that mean nothing to anyone except the victim of circumstance.
I have survived numerous attempts on my life whilst being in the service of my Queen and Country right up until my final campaign 1981 in the Falklands conflict; yet another strange vagarety of life. Not 5 years before, we were battling Argentina on the Polo field, then in ’81 we were killing them over a few small, barely inhabited rocks in the wild inhospitable Southern Atlantic. And for what? The prospect of oil. Politics and commerce are at the very roots of our evil existence that the majority of human beings refuse to acknowledge even exists except in books and movies. The problem is that we are not only killing each other (only God knows why) but we are also destroying our earth, our home and our children’s heritage, yet strangely no one seems to really care or give a damn.
When I began this Post, or conceived it, it was going to be an apology and explanation for my recent abstention from our crowded airwaves, so I suppose I should do that. As youth passes sometime in the night only to appear again in the morning twilight zone of age to come, death becomes different. It evolves into a less violent death, but death is just the same. I have reached the heady heights of “Adult Elderly” status, which means a minimum of one week’s hospitalisation while they poke about and try to find something else wrong with me. Having survived thus far, I suddenly find myself in a nursing home with another sickness badge to sew on my sleeve and another week to go before I become fully convinced that I am well on my way to complete insanity.
Love to you all, Graham
Potassium deficiency leads to kidney infections, lung infections, and disease from an earlier punch up. Another pile of pills to add to breakfast, lunch and dinner – won’t need to have food if this carries on. I find it (personal preference) disconcerting that Doctors avoid the word “cancer” until absolutely necessary, or broached by the patient. The more I talk about it, the easier it is to accept and somehow it pushes the whole prospect back. There again that could be the Opiates!
Back to happier days!!!!!
My Special Ops Team – Vietnam 1971/2 Two good soldiers are gone and one a Belgian Leftenant went with me right through to the Falklands in 1981 as Reservists. Five good men, well 4 and me. Not the real actual people!