Songs of Praise

An interesting programme this afternoon, full of wartime memories.   This naturally appealed to an old fogey like me: I recall those National Days of Prayer when on several occasions the King called the Nation to prayer.   I realise it's pure coincidence, but every time it was followed by a miracle of deliverance (as at Dunkirk, to which I have referred before).   I don't share Gordon Brown's politics but I warm to him when I read "We must not claim that God is on our side, but we have to hope that we are on His side".

Repatriation

Today the bodies of five service men who died in Afghanistan were brought home.   The giant Hercules aircraft flew low over Wootton Bassett to announce its arrival  then went on to land at RAF Lyneham.   With due ceremony the five coffins were taken from the plane to the Chapel where families and friends were waiting to pay their last respects.   Each family is given as long as it wishes then again with great dignity the coffins are taken to the waiting hearses.   The sad procession, five hearses, illuminated inside, coffins draped with the Union Flag, an empty hearse in case of a breakdown, and its police escort, makes it way to Wootton Basset where the first of many tributes are paid, then along the M4, A417 and A420 to the Wiltshire Police Headquarters on the outskirts of Swindon.
There, escort duties are taken over by Thames Valley Police and the cortege continues its journey.  All along the A420 people gather in groups large and small to pay their respects.   The main “vigil points” are - where the B4000 crosses the main road; at the Defence Academy in Shrivenham; and at the Folly Hill Lay-by - but all along the route people gather and traffic stops at the cortege approaches.   The “final salute” is taken outside  St Anthony of Padua Roman Catholic Church at the entrance to the John Radcliffe Hospital.
Our prayers go with them : may they rest in peace.

Happy Sunday!

It was wet and cold, a neighbour said “What a miserable day!” and I said “It’s only as miserable as you allow it!”.   That cheered her up; her lovely daughter smiled and that brightened everything.   In the evening my wife called “Dinner’s ready!”; when we are alone we eat in the kitchen, me facing the digital clock.   It read 19.39 and I thought “The war!”.   For my  father,  George Robey was terribly funny - “The year war broke out my Missus said to me ‘What are you going to do about it?’”  I thought it was ridiculous.   Then it was 19.40 - Dunkirk!   Whatever people say, there is no question but that God intervened on our behalf.   He stilled the waters as He did on Galilee, thousands of our troops were saved and the Nazi invasion of our islands was averted.   Carol’s father was given up for dead but one of his men detected a heartbeat, dragged him to the boats and got him back home.   Alas, he died a war hero at Anzio a few years later.   And the clock ticked on - soon it was 19.43 and I got a letter from the King - “Brian old chap I need you” and off I went to join the RAF.   I wanted to be a spitfire pilot and shoot down hundreds of German planes but it was not to be and I became a radar mechanic instead - but in a way that was better because without radar we would not have won the war.   Then 19.44 and I was in Burma...then 19.45 and I was at sea with the fleet for the invasion of Malaya.  Suddenly it was called off: Japan had surrendered.   Those atomic bombs had taken hundreds of lives but we thought that thousands - even millions - had been saved.   Was there an equation there somewhere.   It’s a pity that after 19.59 the clock goes to 20.00 - so much happened in 19.60 onwards....but that’s another story!

Sunday Bl***** Sunday

"Blessed" in case you were wondering.   I enjoy Sundays: usually the Parish Church first as I like Holy Communion once a week but we don't have it on the first Sunday so I go with my wife to her Roman Catholic service - where, likewise, I cannot receive it - but I like the people.   I was challenged recently - "You don't have to go to church to be a Christian" and I agreed.   But Christians are a family and it's nice to have family gatherings sometimes.   We say "this is My body" and straight away "This is My blood" but it wasn't really like that.   He took bread, then WHEN SUPPER WAS ENDED He took the wine - so there was a meal in between.   I often picture them sitting there and wonder what they ate: lamb stew, perhaps, or fish?   And were they chatty or did they eat in silence?  Jokes?   Anyway, it was a family get-together and it's not a bad idea if we imitate it.