Philip Roddis
And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall believe themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods low-cost whiles any speaks
That combated with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.Shakespeare– Henry V, Act IV, scene iii Today marks the hundred and 3rd anniversary of the ending of World War One. That wasn’t its name at the time though. Since it had been billed as”the war to end all wars “, those determining the terms of the Armistice– signed at 05:15 on 11/11/1918 in the Rethondes Clearing of France’s Compiègne Forest to work at 11 am– were currently calling it the Great War. But as we understand, a Greater War Yet would break out not twenty-one years later on. Forty million people, only half of them in uniform,”offered”their lives in WW1.made it back”a land fit for heroes “.( Only the most ferocious had been rerouted to Russia, to sign up with the elite killers of thirteen other countries battling along with White Cossacks to squash the Red Threat to God and King.)Instead they returned to lock-out and lay-off. Some, criminal elements from the slums of the north east, signed up with the Black & Tans, sent out to terrorise an
Ireland yearning for liberty after centuries of British occupation. My point being that Henry’s imagined words to an English force outnumbered by five to one at Agincourt– and Lloyd George’s to men returning traumatised if not broken beyond repair work from carnage now industrialised– type part of a broader pattern. The wars of those who rule effective states are always validated in the name of high perfects, and always prosecuted for baser factors. From this deeper fact, lies– that the veterans of Henry’s land and magnificence
grab would forever be honoured … that the survivors of the very first global imperialist war for earnings would know long-lasting prosperity– follow as night on day. I will not be using a red poppy this year. I have not for years. You might capture me with a white one, if I get fortunate. They aren’t simple to discover. I have actually two times visited Beeston Methodist Church, having been told this is the only location for
miles around selling them– and twice stopped working to acquire entry. (Let no guy call me, approaching Year Ten of my own legendary war with Sheffield Hallam– in which another substantial judgment in my favour was bied far just yesterday *– a quitter. No, and no lady either. You see if I’m not at that church door tomorrow and tomorrow for
my little white emblem of defiance!)Meanwhile, in 3 days’time, my country’s Establishment– from fourth estate to Westminster Abbey– will lead the annual orgy of sentimentalised hypocrisy we call Remembrance Sunday.
To be clear: those illustrated here are not hypocrites. But they are callously and insanely deceived. As they do so the bombs will continue to rain on impoverished, brown-skinned men, ladies and kids in Yemen.
Each bomb will chalk up an earnings for those with shares in Britain’s modern and highly rewarding death sectors. I can’t run no more With that lawless crowd While the killers in high places State their prayers aloud Leonard Cohen Somewhere Else, in the South China Sea, those stationed on the warships of Australia, Britain, Canada and the U.S.A.– most likely not France, recently stiffed on that nuclear subs deal– will base on deck in sombre silence as the compulsory pieties are intoned. Then they’ll go back to patrolling the Taiwan Strait
in the name of Standing Up To Beijing Bullying. (If you do not deem that intriguing, and recklessly so, you might for a second imagine Chinese and Russian warships, a few ofthem nuclear armed, doing similar in the Gulf of Mexico.)So for me it’s a white poppy or none. But let me leave you with one who, though no soldier, has actually seen more war than numerous an enlisted guy.
Or female. Here’s John Pilger, eleven months back– that number keeps coming up– on the subject. Britain’s Armed Providers Memorial is a quiet, haunting place. Embed in the rural appeal of
Staffordshire, in an arboretum of some 30,000 trees and sweeping lawns, its Homeric figures celebrate determination and sacrifice. The names of more than 16,000 British servicemen and females are listed. The literature states they”died in functional theatre or were targeted by terrorists”. On the day I was there, a stonemason was adding brand-new names to those who have passed away in some 50 operations throughout the world during what is known as”peacetime”. Malaya, Ireland, Kenya, Hong Kong, Libya, Iraq, Palestine
and many more, consisting of secret operations, such as Indochina. Not a year has actually passed given that peace was declared in 1945 that Britain has actually not sent military forces to
battle the wars of empire. Not a year has actually passed when nations, primarily bad and riven by conflict, have not bought or have been” soft lent “British arms to enhance the wars, or”interests”, of empire. What empire? Investigative reporter Phil Miller just recently exposed in Declassified that Boris Johnson’s Britain preserved 145 military sites– call them bases– in 42 countries. Johnson has actually boasted that Britain is to be”the primary marine power in Europe”. In the midst of the best health emergency situation in modern times … You can read the complete piece here. Philip Roddis is an author and professional photographer, you can learn more of his work
at his blog Steel City Scribblings * I’ll write up the other day’s judgment, in Roddis v Sheffield Hallam, in due course.