Fathers Day yesterday, so the Wee Guy took me on one of my favourite day trips; down to Greenwich on the DLR [he can pretend to drive it] and go to the Maritime Museum where he can pretend to be a deep-sea diver, a naval gunner or an ocean-going yachtsman.
We saw HMS Ark Royal drawn up right next to the ashen hulk of the Cutty Sark; the aircraft carrier looking stunningly beautiful, and not at all warlike. I explained to the Wee Guy about the lifts that bring up the fighter jets, folding out the wings, and the comic-looking ramp at the end of the flight deck, designed on the back of an envelope for the Falklands War. “They should have used a trampoline!” he said. “Matey, they tried, but the ramp was better...”
At the same time, Falklands War veterans paraded in Westminster; heroes to a very man. More of them have suicided out than died in combat; sadly, our country has chosen not to protect the ex-servicemen who, not counting the cost to themselves, defended us. It denigrates us all. I have often argued that a substantial part of the Task Force’s success derived from the brevity of it’s orders; advance to South Atlantic, expel Argentine forces with minimal casualties, assert lawful UK rule, home in time for tea. Our soldiers are at deadly risk in their current overseas adventures because they do not have a finite agenda; mission creep kills.