I checked dsh today. I am in it. That was short and sweet, wasn’t it? No preamble, no false modesty. I’m getting the hang of it now, though when I re-read it the words “could do better” emerge like a mantra from the past.
Apart from that today has been dull but busy.
I had a telephone consultation this morning – the one I should have had two weeks ago. I need a blood test for TB. This has to take place at the Treatment Centre at the Queen’s Medical Centre. No, I don’t know why. But then, I don’t know why I had to have my last chest X-Ray at QMC either when I have a perfectly good hospital only half a mile away from the house. It’s at 8am, so at least I won’t waste my day. Well, I may waste my day, but it won’t be on blood tests. I also have to sign some forms to give a private company access to my medical records – they are the people who will be delivering my new medical treatment.
Yes, I too would have organised it so I could have done it all in one visit. Apart from the convenience, there is the carbon footprint and the pandemic to consider. And no, I don’t really want to open my records to a private company, but I do want the new medication. It’s all very strange.
I’ve also booked my car in for MOT and servicing at the garage that’s 200 yards away from the shop.I did consider using it after my previous garage moved, but I’m loyal and I stayed with my original garage. As detailed yesterday, they have now packed up, leaving me free to move.
Last night I listened to the song of the D-Day Dodgers (the troops that fought their way up via Italy, instead of landing on the coast of France). I knew of the nickname and that there was some ill feeling about it but didn’t realise how serious it was until I listened to the song (there are ruder versions so be careful if you look for alternatives). It took several years, and some terrible battles, to reach the top of Italy. The role of my family was limited in WW2. having been thinned out considerably in the previous one. Two served in the Dunkirk campaign and two in the desert and Italy. None of them went to France in 1944. Therefore my whole family were D-Day Dodgers.
Anti-tank defences – Gibraltar Point.
The anti-tank blocks in the picture are a few of hundreds still scattered along the east coast of the UK, a reminder of times when we really thought an invasion was coming.
I enjoyed your work. If you do do better, it will be very good indeed. I used to play on the tank traps in eastern Scotland on holiday at my Grandpa’s when I was a child.
I’m surprised how many are still left – not only at Gibraltar Point, but down at Minsmere and Dunwich and Aldeburgh too. It’s one of those things I always meant to study more.
Oh, Simon, congratulations on the publication of your incredible poem. It really captures the mood of the times, I think. . . worry, despair, helplessness, and yet a bit of hope that we can get ahold of ourselves and fix it up. That’s how I took it, anyway. Bravo, you.
The picture of those blocks was interesting to me. I would think a tank would roll right over them.
Congratulations, again.
They are about 5ft square so would stop a tank for long enough to make it vulnerable to attack by whatever means we had available – which wasn’t much in 1940.
Thanks for your comments on the poem. 🙂
I agree with Derrick, that is a very powerful poem. It has sobered by day a bit, but I am moved by your writing.
Thank you. 🙂
Congratulations on the publication of your powerful poem – a fine tribute, too, to those who fought in Italy
Thank you Derrick. 🙂
Well, it really must have felt as though an invasion was coming. Best of luck with your tests! Finally, the poetry and prose in Dish is so powerful. Really gave me pause, as all good poetry does.
Yes, the study of the WW2 fortifications is a fascinating subject.
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