The Sled

You stupid boy......... Somebody had to say it!

Gulls are very persistent in their search for food: in this case I take it no tern was left un-stoned ? Sorry, I just couldn't resist it!

Personally, I have a fondness for hexadecimal numbering, because that makes me just 42 years old! Ah, to be young again! Mind you, if it means waiting until I'm 66 in hexadecimal to qualify for the state pension, then sod it, I'll stick with decimal!

I'm confused: I spend a considerable amount of time and money each day turning wine back into water again - does this make me amongst the damned or the exalted?

Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that, fellas; I only live a few miles from it! There's still 1.4 kilotonnes of explosives on the Richard Montgomery, compared to the 500kg of Plymouth's bundle of joy! However, my house is on top of a hill, so the tidal wave generated by the underwater explosion should go past me on either side and miss the house. Admittedly, it will have no windows, doors, or roof left on it......probably not much left of the top floor either......and the garden is going to need a bit of work. Still, the model railway in the garage should be OK. Well, you've got to look on the bright side, haven't you?

This thread seems to have dried up a bit, so I'll see if two of my heroes, who I suspect few will immediately recognise, can revive it. We all need heroes. The first is a Cornishman, Cyril Richard Rescorla, a man of great personal courage and conviction. You can read more detail of his incredibly full life online, just Google (other search engines are available!) his name. During the Second World War, much of Cornwall became a training ground for US troops preparing for Normandy. As a young boy, Rescorla idolized them and became fascinated by all things American; it was probably then he decided that he wanted to become a soldier. After working in the military and police in the UK and Rhodesia (as it was then), Rescorla moved to the US and as soon as he was able, enrolled in the US Army. He became a platoon commander in the 7th Cavalry and demonstrated his leadership and personal bravery during the Battle of Ia Drang, where his battalion was outnumbered and became surrounded by NVA and Vietcong. He was involved in the thick of the fighting, calming his young troops by walking round their positions at night singing (sometimes bawdy!) Cornish folk songs. They nicknamed him "Hard Core." If you watch the Mel Gibson film "We Were Soldiers" you'll see him represented (Rescorla himself rejected any suggestion he was a hero and refused to see the film or read the book on which it was based, declaring that they had buried all the heroes over there). He returned from Vietnam with the Silver Star, Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster, Purple Heart and the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry. Lt. Colonel Hal Moore, his CO, himself a leader not lacking in guts and ability, described him as "the best damn platoon commander I ever saw." Despite this tough guy image, Rescorla had a gentle, thoughtful, and intellectual side: he loved music, ballroom dancing, yoga, and studied the spiritual side of Amerindian culture. After leaving the army he studied English and law at university, gaining a Masters in the former. He then went on to become a university lecturer and had a textbook published. He also studied several foreign languages, learning Portuguese, Italian and Arabic. He left teaching for better paid jobs in corporate security. While working in the World Trade Centre he identified its vulnerability to terrorist attack, suggesting that a truck loaded with explosives could be parked in the underground car park next to a load-bearing column. His report and recommendations were largely ignored, that is until 1993 when terrorists did just that, placing the bomb 30 feet from where he predicted. Rescorla gained much credibility after that, and while with Morgan Stanley he continued to look at the WTC's weaknesses. He was the man who predicted 9/11, that terrorists could crash an aircraft into it. As a result, he implemented regular fire training and evacuation drills, despite opposition from some high-powered executives. When, on the 11th September 2001, the first aircraft struck the South Tower, Rescorla ignored the official advice to occupants of the North Tower to remain where they were and personally directed an evacuation of Morgan Stanley's 2700 employees. Nearly all of them survived. Sadly, not Rick himself. After he had got most of Morgan Stanley's people out, he went back into the building to try to help others evacuate and was last seen on the 10th Floor heading up the stairs. His remains were never found. The man was a great leader and had balls of steel. My second hero, you've almost certainly never heard of. Kenneth Frederick Jousiffe was a fire fighter for most of his working life. He joined the fire service shortly after doing his National Service in the Royal Navy. One night in 1958, he and his colleagues responded to reports of a fire at a furniture warehouse near Wembley (West London, UK). On arrival, they could see no obvious sign of fire, though they could smell smoke. The crew entered the building to investigate. As they made their way to the back of the building, it suddenly erupted into flame. The crew including Jousiffe exited, but on emerging they realised that two of their crew were missing. Jousiffe had a lot to lose, as he was engaged to a young nurse and they were due to marry later that year, but despite this he and another fireman volunteered to don breathing apparatus and re-enter the building to search for their colleagues. What had happened to the missing men was when the fire erupted, they found themselves trapped on a walkway some distance above the warehouse floor. With the building all around them thoroughly alight, their only means of escape was to jump from the walkway onto the concrete floor below: it was that or burn to death, so jump they did. One of them suffered severe back injuries, the other serious leg injuries. Both passed out. As Jousiffe and his colleague advanced into the building, they found themselves in a desperate situation. Thick smoke meant they could not see more than a few inches in front of them. The building all round was an inferno, the noise of the fire deafening and the heat debilitating. The only way they could make any progress was by crawling along the floor and feeling their way by hand. Jousiffe was trying to listen for the bleepers the missing men carried, as a clue to their whereabouts, but the BA and helmet he was wearing made it difficult. So he took a decision that might cost him his life: he took off his helmet and BA to listen. As a result, he and his colleague were able to locate the two men, and by sharing their BA with them and dragging them clear, all four survived. Both Jousiffe and his colleague were awarded the British Empire Medal for Bravery. Without their personal bravery their two colleagues would not have survived the fire. Jousiffe married his sweetheart, Nina, later that year, and continued to serve the capital city as part of the London Fire Brigade until his retirement, rising through the ranks to a senior position. He is still alive today, and will celebrate his 92nd birthday next week. Sadly, time has taken its toll, and he is suffering dementia, but if you mention it in conversation he still remembers with pride his time in the Royal Navy and the Fire Brigade: his face lights up and his back straightens and you glimpse again the courageous young man who did his duty and risked his life for others. You won't find much online about him, but his citation published in the London Gazette is available. So how do I know so much about him? Nina, his wife of 66 years, is my aunt. Who are your heroes? And why?

In a previous life, I worked at Heathrow Airport. Anyone who has ever travelled through Heathrow will know that the roads in and around it get horribly congested at times, which as well as causing inconvenience to the travelling public, can impede emergency services responding to an incident (in case there are any nervous flyers reading this, don't panic, there is a dedicated Fire Station on the airfield that isn't affected by congestion on public roads!). About 30 years ago, give or take, a proposal was put forward to improve medical emergency response times by having paramedics equipped with bicycles permanently stationed in the airport. It was argued that they could respond rapidly to incidents either on the airfield or within the passenger terminals. Now it happened that at that time there were some people within the Health and Safety Department who had particularly warped and wicked senses of humour. One of them took it upon himself to put forward a very detailed response that argued quite convincingly that to comply with various regulations, the unfortunate rider of said bicycle would have to have large blue and yellow flashing warning lights affixed to the top of his/her cycling helmet! It was argued that this would immediately identify the rider as a "Two-Wheeled Ambulance Technician" to other vehicles and aircraft. Amazingly, this response was taken seriously and it was the subject of debate for a couple of weeks before someone realised that the Safety Team had been taking the p*ss! Who said Health and Safety have no sense of humour?

Yup, and drinking that one has the same effect as being hit on the head by the other one....!😖

Hmm, looks to me like the bush could do with a trim.......!

I don't know which is worse: yours that won't shut, or mine that are like Arkwright's till and try to chop my fingers off every time they slam shut!

Would that be a song about a bush fire...? Near a lake?

This reminded me of one of those coincidences that occur in life and which stick with you. Some years ago, I think it must have been in the 90's, I was in the HMV store in Heathrow's Terminal 3. There was only one other customer present and the store assistant. I wanted a copy of Take Five and the assistant, who I had not spoken to up to this point, had chosen to play this over the shop's speakers. As I went over to pay for my purchase and was about to comment on the coincidence, the other customer also approached the assistant and congratulated him on his excellent choice of music. He then presented his business card: he was Russell Gloyd, Brubeck's friend and manager! What are the chances?

Reminds me of a Dutch lady I worked with many years ago. She came to England in her late teens to marry an Englishman who she had fallen in love with while he was working in the Netherlands. Unfortunately her command of the English language was not very good, so the first meeting with her future in-laws was a little difficult for her, she being able to discern only a word here and there as the conversation flowed rapidly. To add to her discomfort, her fiance was the son of a vicar and she felt somewhat nervous, desperate as she was to make a good impression. However, at some point the conversation drifted onto the subject of dogs. Now this was something she knew quite a lot about, as her parents had bred dogs for many years, so she felt confident she could safely join in the conversation at this point without making a fool of herself. However, the problem was she didn't know the English verb for "to breed." Undaunted, she remembered a trick she had learnt at school for converting Dutch verbs into English, and so confidently translated the Dutch "Mijn familie fokt hounden" into "My family f**k dogs!" Apparently her sudden interjection didn't fuel the flow of conversation so much as stop it dead in its tracks!

OK, my wife said yes, I can have it. One part of me says "Great!", the other says "She agreed too easily, there has to be a catch!" 🤔 Whatever, I'll take it before she changes her mind! I've sent you a message so we can arrange collection, etc.

Woah! Don't pick up that axe just yet! I'm consulting the petticoat government to see if she will permit me to have it. Otherwise, I'll be on the receiving end of an axe! Will be in touch later today.