Screen Shot 2019-05-14 at 10.19.15NONE TO DO IT


Prof Tab recently posted (headed ‘five hundred yards‘)—

read Prof:  CLICK HERE

—and it’s sobering stuff. Thank heavens such can never happen again, today we have  experts in charge.

In charge to lead the charge … what was that song from a while back~? Oh, yes …

“… and who was it that led the charge, that took us safe to the rear …”

Yep. That’s what leaders do. Real leaders, that is: our leaders (all salute!).

I just re-blitzed the Prof’s D-Day post, again. Equally as depresse  inspired. (Don’t go there—it’s far better for the average punter to watch John Wayne’s version or similar.)

You still not sure what the ol’ Dog is on about?

See below for a clue … (you can’t miss it, it’s labelled “CLUE” in big letters—and if by now you’re feeling a bit miffed, I confidently predict that you are a voter. No?)


Cannon-fodder is cheap (and expendable).

Actually getting up off your arse and thinking ain’t cheap. It takes effort (but cheer up, if you run low on personnel there’s always the draft …)

active service        active service             active service                    active service

active service             active service

                active service                            active service                 active service

* Sit out it in the rear, secure in the knowledge that once the bombardment has reduced the obstacles/defences to bits of old scrap all the troops have to do after (paddling ashore) is dry out their socks and stroll through to Berlin … you know:          numbers game  



Screen Shot 2019-04-20 at 09.37.10the Mac’s onboard dictionary says ‘lingo’ means “… a foreign language or dialect etc etc” whereas I use it to refer to the English language as used by us foreigners in New Zealand.

Now you’re ready, cast your eyes over this snippet—

“After thinking it all over I have come to the conclusion that if I had got married and dodged military service as long as I could, I might have had my car and bungalow to-day.”

The above constitutes the majority of a letter written to the Otago Daily Times and published on January 8, 1919, from a returned soldier who signed themselves simply as “Main Body”. The letter received two responses.

Snipped recently from a local paper.


So: I wuz brung up proper to use the lingo the way it should be spoke and writed, and not like how them moderns make up there own rules as they goes along.

Given that—

(a) it is essential that Political Correctness be flavour compulsion of the day, and

(b) there shalt be NO distinctions made—regardless of gender, age, colour, race, creed (or any other distinguishments) on any grounds whatsoever …

—I find it disturbing that unless I pop my clogs within the next decade I may no longer be able to communicate with replacement generation/s.


to know who is behind the modern wave of “anything goes”—one by one the old values are being systematically demolished. Why? Cui bono?


before ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ are replaced around our world with ‘THEIRS’ and have done with it.


That’s replaced sexism with universalism … wonderful start!

For some—we’ll have twice as many toilets and changing rooms available to all for no extra cost.

But what about extending the concept? Make it universal, remove distinguishments of any kind? So that … atheists can now go worship in Catholic churches, Moslems in synagogues, peaceniks in barrackses; anyone can say anything about anything anywhere at any time with no more of this damn (panty-waist) ‘consideration for others’?


is concerned, indeed there should be no exemptions.

Make it compulsory for all: round ’em up off the streets and induct the lot—herd ’em in and take away their names, clothing, gender, anything at all … and give ’em all at least two years compulsory re-education and service: make men of (oops) make people of them!

Just like we used to in the good old days when men were men and galloped off to war while the fair sex stayed at home courting the ‘slackers’ and ‘dodgers’.  (Oops—I’d add more but The Spouse has just summoned me … gotta rush …)

chimp rocks 

Gotta figure out

how that returned soldier

became a ‘them’ … don’t wait up ….



And that’s not just my morals.


selfie—an elderly new naval problem with a modern twist. The twist this time being … aawww, heck … you figure it out—

“Surface ships engaged in shallow water ASW or merely operating in shallow water will likely find themselves in surprise, close range encounters with non-nuclear submarines and a short range, quick reaction ASW weapon could provide the defense needed to survive the encounter.  The small size and weight of the launcher makes it suitable for any ship and allows it to be added almost anywhere that a small deck penetration for the reloads can be accommodated.

To read from source:  CLICK HERE


—AND never forget that the more geniuses you apply to any problem the more remarkable your results*


“Moreover, during the first part of the war, the Japanese tended to set their depth charges too shallow, unaware U.S. submarines could dive below 150 feet (45m). Unfortunately, this deficiency was revealed in a June 1943 press conference held by U.S. Congressman Andrew J. May, and soon enemy depth charges were set to explode as deep as 250 feet (76m). Vice Admiral Charles A. LockwoodCOMSUBPAC, later estimated May’s revelation cost the navy as many as ten submarines and 800 crewmen.[14][15]”

Screen Shot 2019-05-14 at 10.19.15.png

Yep. Pure genius …


* Can you imagine what a Naval Committee revamped hairbrush might look like (and all the accompanying screeds extolling its virtues) after the routine fifteen year investigation and development?



A humble salute to someone whose works I’d often seen and enjoyed without ever pondering the source—

Screen Shot 2019-04-14 at 08.54.49.png

—I admire those who pop the bubbles of the self-aggrandising and pompous whilst duly crediting those who earn the credit. This world is an emptier place for him having left it.

(Image above hijacke  borrowed with thanks from CLICK HERE and thanks also to GP for bringing the works once more to the fore.)

active service                  active serviceactive serviceactive serviceactive service


… to keep things lighthearted.


And also to illustrate (where appropriate) the ‘human cost’.

Perhaps if I can get enough people asking questions some mover/shaker types might be moved enough to create change where I’ve never been able to. ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished …

Recently I posted this image—

Screen Shot 2019-02-21 at 18.20.00.png

—which actually is universal, and timeless. It twanged my strings more than any other photo recently, and trust me … I look at lots of photos.

I googled the name and got a brief summary of the background story—

Source:  CLICK HERE 

—which is partly why I included the words ‘timeless’ … and ‘universal’ …


Don’t fret — there’s oooodles more just like these, and there always will be. You won’t miss out …





for service—and why not?

can o' worms.png

So we have to ask a few questions, and fortunately I shan’t be answering any of them. I’m just a wee bit too jaded—but that comes from being some kind of idealist in a pragmatic world.

I vaguely remember posting a question in this blog, sometime back—

“A guy sitting in an office in Nevada flying a drone half a world away etc etc … wot if the poor bugger gets a sprained thumb from all those hours with his joy-stick?”

Shouldn’t he be awarded at least a Purple Heart (possibly even a Silver Star if he gets sore eyes from those screens, or a Victoria Cross for haemorrhoids from endless unthanked hours of patrolling*?

(SFX: insert sympathetic whimper here, please)**

Ooops … the explanatory reference (I almost forgot)—


Screen Shot 2019-02-19 at 13.07.09.png


Doesn’t the whole concept throw up a thought that leads to the ol’ Law of —


a wee bit—?

Anyway, soon there’ll be a new business opportunity selling improved crutches (for guys with badly sprained backs from hobbling about under the weight of all them medals.)


a chestful of medals just ain’t gonna impress the chicks these days***.

But do not fret—

Screen Shot 2019-02-19 at 12.44.47.png

Such a scene may well be a thing of the past.

All you need to be a hero these days is to sit in an air-conditioned trailer somewhere playing with your joy stick. Nary a mosquito nor leech in sight nowhere, and a probable endless tally of bars to your medals …


“Argus! Cool it! Or join me—I got lots of medals … !”

active serviceactive serviceactive serviceactive serviceactive serviceactive service


* “They also serve …”

** (At least try to make it credible!)

*** not when ‘Equality’ allows them to accumulate just as many medals as you anyway.