A story for the bairns

Ok...so I'm now an old man, but I was once young like you, thinking I knew it all.

Let me say, I was brought up in an age, where before you could even watch a picture at the cinema, you had to stand and sing the National Anthem.
As a kid, we were brought up on a game, where you could play how you would like to die....and oh...how imaginative we were. Everything from daggers, grenades, machine guns & flamethrowers, and boy...we would perform our death throws with gusto in the attempt to win the game.

See, I was brought up in the era of Commando magazines, The Victor, The Hornet etc, where nothing was better than a glorious death for all the 'pink bits' on the map, because, they were 'Ours'

Us Scots were most certainly the proudest to be led to an untimely demise for the Empire.

At 15, I joined the forces and loved it. It was another family to be cherished and be part of.

This was in the midst of 'The Troubles' and we were told...IRA...well if they are an ARMY, why don't they wear a uniform..feckin cowardly bastards, hiding behind civvy clothes.  Instead of buying uniforms, the dastardly Paddys bought guns...  Boo-hiss..just not cricket, eh?
Meanwhile, me and my Oppos, in full uniform, with aircraft carriers, gunships, warplanes, SAS and the full might of the state behind us were the heroic war heroes.  God knows what it was like for the squaddies in Belfast etc...but I was safe and sound on my aircraft carrier....

Thank God, the peace agreement came along...All was getting better....Oops, spoke too soon.

Before I knew it, along came The Falklands.

Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but if we were at war with Argentina, why didn't we attack Buenos Aries?

A wee clue...is was a tussle twitx Thatcher or Galtieri staying in power, no more...no less.

I remember with dread, seeing The Suns headlines...oh, and how the flags waved as 'Our Boys' set sail to liberate the islands and show those damned Wops we were not to be tangled with.
Then, we sunk the Belgrano...and feck me, you could have run a wind farm for a year with the gusto from the flag waving.....then we started taking the hits... Oh dear..   Brave men, all of them...both sides..and for what? A red postbox? A stamp with Queenies head on it? A Bobbie with a tit shaped helmet?

Now...all these years later, I'm seeing yet once again a rise in British nationalism, and again with hindsight, I wonder, for the benefit of whom?  Not mine...not my kids or yours...

I see what's happening across the waters in the USA...it's scaring the shit out of me....

I'm drunk...it's time for bed.

Will I feel better about it all tomorrow?

likely not.