One Final Push in Copenhagen.

Thanks to Grumpy Old Twat. Priceless.

PLEASE GOD SAVE US FROM THESE FOOLS

Wishful thinking

Glasgow NE

The SNP need to up their game that much is obvious from the open goal they had in Glasgow NE and they skeylfed the ball wide.

Labour have shown that they are prepared to be as dirty and as illegal as they can get away with to win, they win ugly. The SNP need to get down in the sewer with Labour and start grabbing them by the bollocks and squeezing. The SNP message is a good one, Labour know that, which is why they lied through their teeth and got away with it in Glenrothes and Glasgow NE. I have shouted at the TV when watching Nicola and Hosie and others being so bloody nice, when they should be fighting mad and telling Glenn Campbell and the biased media to shut the fuck up and listen. Bains campaign was nasty, but it will get worse come the Scottish elections. And the GE. The SNP needs an Alastair Campbell, or independence will wither on the vine.

Alex Salmond I know you are an avid reader of my blog ;o)) so listen. Stop trying to be the funny man, the cheeky chappy. Stop your bloody sniggering and smirking, stop doing that we laugh that you and Nicola do in between syllables. Stop shouting your head of in Holyrood and keep cool and nail the bastards with the sword of truth. You are a good communicator and debater, cut out the sarcasm you are better than that. Nail them with the truth, stuff their bloody lies down their rotten throats. You are intelligent and shrewd, use these clubs and drive the ball down the middle of the fairway, you can buy and sell the lot of them. People do not like smug and sneery politicians. Look at how Mandelson is hated.

Scotland desperately needs a saviour right now to deliver independence, be that man, leave your ego at home, be humble and ruthless, give them no quarter. If you cannot then let some one who can take over.

CLARKSON ON MANDELSON

Sometimes I read something that really cheers me up and Clarkson like Basil Fawlty and Baldrick can do that no matter how glum I feel. Lord Fondleboy is his target in the following but there are a few others I would like to see on the bumper as well. He should start a range of front bumper stickers.

PS. Please God if you can organise an SNP win tomorrow by just 1 vote I will go to church every Sunday, on my way to the pub.

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Monday, 9 November 2009
Mandelson censors Jeremy Clarkson

I spotted this earlier by Jeremy Clarkson in the Times. Great article

Jeremy Clarkson
Sunday Times

I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought all week, and I’m afraid I’ve decided that it’s no good putting Peter Mandelson in a prison. I’m afraid he will have to be tied to the front of a van and driven round the country until he isn’t alive any more.
He announced last week that middle-class children will simply not be allowed into the country’s top universities even if they have 4,000 A-levels, because all the places will be taken by Albanians and guillemots and whatever other stupid bandwagon the conniving idiot has leapt

I hate Peter Mandelson. I hate his fondness for extremely pale blue jeans and I hate that preposterous moustache he used to sport in the days when he didn’t bother trying to cover up his left-wing fanaticism. I hate the way he quite literally lords it over us even though he’s resigned in disgrace twice, and now holds an important decision-making job for which he was not elected. Mostly, though, I hate him because his one-man war on the bright and the witty and the successful means that half my friends now seem to be taking leave of their senses.

There’s talk of emigration in the air. It’s everywhere I go. Parties. Work. In the supermarket. My daughter is working herself half to death to get good grades at GSCE and can’t see the point because she won’t be going to university, because she doesn’t have a beak or flippers or a qualification in washing windscreens at the lights. She wonders, often, why we don’t live in America.

Then you have the chaps and chapesses who can’t stand the constant raids on their wallets and their privacy. They can’t understand why they are taxed at 50% on their income and then taxed again for driving into the nation’s capital. They can’t understand what happened to the hunt for the weapons of mass destruction. They can’t understand anything. They see the Highway Wombles in those brand new 4x4s that they paid for, and they see the M4 bus lane and they see the speed cameras and the community support officers and they see the Albanians stealing their wheelbarrows and nothing can be done because it’s racist.

And they see Alistair Darling handing over £4,350 of their money to not sort out the banking crisis that he doesn’t understand because he’s a small-town solicitor, and they see the stupid war on drugs and the war on drink and the war on smoking and the war on hunting and the war on fun and the war on scientists and the obsession with the climate and the price of train fares soaring past £1,000 and the Guardian power-brokers getting uppity about one shot baboon and not uppity at all about all the dead soldiers in Afghanistan, and how they got rid of Blair only to find the lying twerp is now going to come back even more powerful than ever, and they think, “I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

It’s a lovely idea, to get out of this stupid, Fairtrade, Brown-stained, Mandelson-skewed, equal-opportunities, multicultural, carbon-neutral, trendily left, regionally assembled, big-government, trilingual, mosque-drenched, all-the-pigs-are-equal, property-is-theft hellhole and set up shop somewhere else. But where?

You can’t go to France because you need to complete 17 forms in triplicate every time you want to build a greenhouse, and you can’t go to Switzerland because you will be reported to your neighbours by the police and subsequently shot in the head if you don’t sweep your lawn properly, and you can’t go to Italy because you’ll soon tire of waking up in the morning to find a horse’s head in your bed because you forgot to give a man called Don a bundle of used notes for “organising” a plumber.

You can’t go to Australia because it’s full of things that will eat you, you can’t go to New Zealand because they don’t accept anyone who is more than 40 and you can’t go to Monte Carlo because they don’t accept anyone who has less than 40 mill. And you can’t go to Spain because you’re not called Del and you weren’t involved in the Walthamstow blag. And you can’t go to Germany ... because you just can’t.

The Caribbean sounds tempting, but there is no work, which means that one day, whether you like it or not, you’ll end up like all the other expats, with a nose like a burst beetroot, wondering if it’s okay to have a small sharpener at 10 in the morning. And, as I keep explaining to my daughter, we can’t go to America because if you catch a cold over there, the health system is designed in such a way that you end up without a house. Or dead.

Canada’s full of people pretending to be French, South Africa’s too risky, Russia’s worse and everywhere else is too full of snow, too full of flies or too full of people who want to cut your head off on the internet. So you can dream all you like about upping sticks and moving to a country that doesn’t help itself to half of everything you earn and then spend the money it gets on bus lanes and advertisements about the dangers of salt. But wherever you go you’ll wind up an alcoholic or dead or bored or in a cellar, in an orange jumpsuit, gently wetting yourself on the web. All of these things are worse than being persecuted for eating a sandwich at the wheel.

I see no reason to be miserable. Yes, Britain now is worse than it’s been for decades, but the lunatics who’ve made it so ghastly are on their way out. Soon, they will be back in Hackney with their South African nuclear-free peace polenta. And instead the show will be run by a bloke whose dad has a wallpaper shop and possibly, terrifyingly, a twerp in Belgium whose fruitless game of hunt-the-WMD has netted him £15m on the lecture circuit.

So actually I do see a reason to be miserable. Which is why I think it’s a good idea to tie Peter Mandelson to a van. Such an act would be cruel and barbaric and inhuman. But it would at least cheer everyone up a bit. onto in the meantime.

We will remember them.

Another five soldiers die in Afghanistan. RIP Lads.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

What ever our individual views on things, Remembrance Day is not far away and it seems a fitting time to remember the men and women serving in our Armed Forces.

They are doing their bit.....please do yours by reading this and forwarding it to someone else:



The average British soldier is 19 years old…..he is a short haired, well built lad who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears and just old enough to buy a round of drinks but old enough to die for his country – and for you. He’d rather be grafting in Afghanistan than unemployed in the UK. He recently left comprehensive school where he was probably an average student, played some form of sport, drove a ten year old rust bucket, and knew a girl that either broke up with him when he left, or swore to be waiting when he returns home. He moves easily to rock and roll or hip-hop or to the rattle of a 7.62mm machine gun.


He is about a stone lighter than when he left home because he is working or fighting from dawn to dusk and well beyond. Letter writing is a pain for him, but he can strip a rifle in 25 seconds and reassemble it in the dark. He can recite every detail of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either effectively if he has to. He digs trenches and latrines without the aid of machines and can apply first aid like a professional paramedic. He can march until he is told to stop, or stay dead still until he is told to move.


He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation but he is not without a rebellious spirit or a sense of personal dignity. He is confidently self-sufficient. He has two sets of uniform with him: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never forgets to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes and fix his own hurts. If you are thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food is your food. He'll even share his life-saving ammunition with you in the heat of a firefight if you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and regards his weapon as an extension of his own hands. He can save your life or he can take it, because that is his job - it's what a soldier does. He often works twice as long and hard as a civilian, draw half the pay and have nowhere to spend it, and can still find black ironic humour in it all. There's an old saying in the British Army: 'If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined!'


He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and he is unashamed to show it or admit it. He feels every bugle note of the 'Last Post' or 'Sunset' vibrate through his body while standing rigidly to attention. He's not afraid to 'Bollock' anyone who shows disrespect when the Regimental Colours are on display or the National Anthem is played; yet in an odd twist, he would defend anyone's right to be an individual. Just as with generations of young people before him, he is paying the price for our freedom. Clean shaven and baby faced he may be, but be prepared to defend yourself if you treat him like a kid.

He is the latest in a long thin line of British Fighting Men that have kept this country free for hundreds of years. He asks for nothing from us except our respect, friendship and understanding. We may not like what he does, but sometimes he doesn't like it either - he just has it to do.. Remember him always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

And now we even have brave young women putting themselves in harm's way, doing their part in this tradition of going to war when our nation's politicians call on us to do so.

They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and if you are so inclined, feel free to say a prayer for our troops in the trouble spots of the world.

I wouldn't dream of breaking this chain - would you?

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If only our politicians displayed a fraction of the guts and sheer courage of these men and women who they put in harms way, they might be better thought of, instead of popping up in Afghanistan to get a cynical photo op, and then come home and tell lies to the House of Commons.

At least President Obam is prepared to walk the walk. This should be compulsory for all our liars.

Glenn Campbell

An excellent exposure of the fool Campbell and BBC Scotlands propaganda:

Caroline Stevenson, whose son, Syracuse student Sandy Phillips, was aboard Pan Am 103, has already stated that she is "not disturbed" by Al-Megrahi's release.
"Whether he's in jail or whether he's with his family, it doesn't impact me," she said. "He should be able to be with his family and die in peace. And I hope he has found some peace." "I am not disturbed by it. I feel like if he is dying of prostate cancer, I don't have any problems at all with him being able to be with his family as he dies."
Stevenson added that she doesn't understand the U.S. government's opposition to al-Megrahi's release.
"I strongly believe in the Scottish Judicial system, and I support their decision," she said. "The people of Scotland have been very good to me and my family."


A slightly different view from the one that has thus far prevailed at the BBC, like we say, it’s a pity that having sent a team all the way to the USA at considerable expense, nobody managed to find Caroline Stevenson. Glenn finished his week off on Saturday with a ‘debate’ on the Megrahi release held inside a New York restaurant, the discussion is not documented here but pretty much went as you would expect such a discussion to go – if it is being chaired by Glenn Campbell.

We hope our look at Glenn's American week has given you food for thought.

Wille Bain in the rain.

This appeared in The Sunday Mail. Many questions arise from these images but the starkest question for me is, if a man cannot dress himself in a dignified manner then why should people vote for him? Check the sleeves on Bains coat, dear God his poor mother must be cringing with embarrassment, that is if it was she who dressed him? He looks like a wee sneak at school who I used to poke and nip at every opportunity, what a creepy wee man.

This is the man who claims to live in the community, yet it is his mother who does, and he uses her address. He lives in London apparently where he works as a university bore.

AM2 aka SCOTTISH UNIONIST

Awww naw, shockaroonie whit are we gonnae dae nooo?

AM2 has given up blogging and political commentary. So he says on his blog!

I just do not believe that someone who is so obsessed and paranoid and arrogant, can step away from his madness on the forums, in particular the Scotsman. He will still be on their in his multi monikered insanity posting utter guff, as Rufus, The Master, English Voice, Yeah, Captain Fruitcake, etc etc etc.

However congratulations to all who skewered and kippered him into humilitaing submission. The unionist agents of lies, are on the run, but they cannae hide.

Squeak squeak squeak.

The scariest bitch in Porker land old Widders has been bumping her shrunken gums that the rules were wrong and that old Legg has been changing them retrospectively.

You don't get it Widders he is merely applying them as you all should have. Guido sums it all up beautifully.


Only a few months ago MPs from all sides were claiming they “did not understand the rules” and they were blaming their misdemeanors on “the system”. Now that Legg is enforcing the rules within reasonably generous parameters, they claim he is retrospectively changing the rules. The same MPs who only a few months ago claimed they did not understand the rules now suddenly have a detailed understanding of the expenses criteria. Bullshit.










This little piggy went to London,
This little piggy stayed at home,
This little piggy had a flipped house,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went...
"Mee mee mee" all the way home

Hog Warts.

How long are we going to tolerate this crooked bitch lecturing us in her sneering condescending tone. This is the bitch that crashes into a parked car whilst using her mobile, drives of without leaving her details, and then justifies her porcine repellant sister Jacqui Smith.

Humphries grilled her on Today, but missed a trick by failing to point out to her that the committee that cleared Jacqui Smith was blatantly partisan having only 5 Labour MPs making a judgement due to the other being unavaiable. The comittee should not have judged until they were all present.

SNOUTS AT THE TROUGH.

There are eleven Travelodges within easy distance of the Commons and the House of Hogs. These are Marleborne, Farringdon, Kings Cross 2, Euston, City Road, Southwark, Covent Garden, Tower Bridge 2, Liverpool St.

Bookings could easily me made by MPs and their Lardships on the nights that they wish to stay in London. There are plenty of Hotel booking agencies that can do that job for them. All it would take would be a contract between Travelodge and the government of the day. This should be renewed annually on a tender basis. MPs not wishing to use the official service and make private arrangements would have to fund these out of their own deep pockets.

When ordinary mortals travel away from home on company business they are required to stay in accommodation provided by said company or book there own with a cap on the rates. The Inland Revenue are very strict with individuals on what is described as “benefits in kind.” They appear to ignore MPs for whatever reason.

They are detestable nasty greedy grabbing charlatans who live in a cocoon protected from the market forces that we all live or die by. It is time they were held up to the flames of reality.

The new Speaker is just a carbon copy of the old windbag, who donned his red cloak of privilege and corruption today, what a disgusting sight. Almost as bad as the odious Jacqui Smith, sneering her way through her apology in the Commons yesterday. She was simply spared having to pay back her ill-gotten gains because the committee who made the decision was populated entirely by Labour MPs. They still do not get it. They have no concept of how vile and repulsive they are.
===================================================================================

As an SNP voter and supporter of Scottish Independence I find Wisharts twittering a wee bit irritating. There are times when it is best to shut the f*** up, like now.




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1. "Everybodys to get a letter. This guy Legg seems like a real attention seeker and is stringing his moment of glory out as long as possible"

Jacqui Smiths expenses.

Very little surprises me when it comes to the upper echelons of our society and their greed and arrogance.

The sight of Jacqui Smith standing up in the commons and apologising today really got to me. Why is this fat odious bitch not paying back the money she swindled out of our pockets. She is the epitome of politicians greed and avarice. I cannot but feel sympathy for her husband, no wonder the poor sod seeks solace in porn films.





But in a damning verdict, John Lyon revealed that the police had questioned the veracity of of the former Home Secretary after their records showed the number of nights she spent in London varied with Ms Smith’s account.




He says that “for 2008/9, the police figures suggested that Ms Smith had spent 37 more nights in Redditch than she had in London, whereas her diary estimates suggested that the difference was 9 nights”. Other figures for 2007/8 suggest she spent 12 more nights in Redditch than in London.

From the front line, Afghanistan

The battle blazed on through the night and the Taliban launched a fresh four-hour onslaught with reinforcements after dawn. But they finally accepted they were outclassed and fled.

An Army spokesman said: "They chose the wrong unit to pick a fight with, there is no doubt about that."

The ambush came as 19 Light Brigade's Reconnaissance Force were returning to their Camp Bastion base after Operation Panther's Valour to drive the Taliban out of an area of Helmand.

The force - simply known as the BRF - is made up of crack troops chosen mainly from the brigade's infantry units. Their convoy was blocked when a two-kilo landmine blew a wheel off the leading Mastiff truck at Nad-e-Ali.

RELIGIOUS TRIBALISM

Yesterday evening I was standing in a checkout queue in my local Co-op, minding my own, when I became aware of tall rangy looking guy carrying a Rangers scarf bellowing into his mobile in the queue ahead. It went like this, "Aye the cunts in the queue here coughing his fucking ring up, he disnae sound well, maybe cause his team got beat the day, two fucking wan man," all this in a queue with women and children who like me had begun to show a reaction. he then engaged the target of his bile, in the usual football supporters ned manner, "what's yer fucking problem by the way ya fucking tube, cannae take it eh?"

The victim had evidently had a drink or two and kind of lurched towards the abuser and patted him on the cheek. It was all that was required as the abuser launched a flurry of blows on the drunk, sending him and his bottle of wine crashing to the floor. At that point a woman began shouting at the abuser as I stepped in between them to try and protect the drunk who was now out cold on the floor. I was concerned that the ned would try and pick up the bottle top that was lying near him and start to use it. However thankfully he realised that the tide was against him and retreated out of the shop hurling abuse. Eventually the drunk came to and I helped him to his feet, he seemed dazed but otherwise OK.

As a man of sixty who has had to deal his own moments of hostility in life and sporting two metal hips and a pelvic plate and screws in my thigh, I was left with a feeling of anger at what had taken place. I know if the thug had tried to continue with his assault that I would have been forced to become involved, as I think some others would. I have been in similar situations when I was young and very fit and could easily have overpowered this thug, at that time, but I am not so confident these days.

When it began I was like everyone in the shop, stunned by this show of triumphalist aggression from a thug who was so obviously out to bait anyone into a showdown, and picked on a drunk who he seemed to know. I reacted in what I thought was an appropriate manner. Then I thought what if this thug had taken out a blade as so many of them do now, what would I have done. Well I know I would have done something but what? I have thought about what else I could have done, but at what point do you intervene. Should I have shouted at the abuser as he cursed and swore into his mobile? Should I have shouted as it became obvious he was going to assault the drunk? Should I have landed some blows my self? Others in the shop were very distressed and angry at the scene, like me they felt helpless.

Finally I would venture an opinion that I have had for some years. If I were president of Scotland, I would disband Rangers, and Celtic, and force them to play in a team called Glasgow Untited. I would demolish Parkhead and Ibrox and force them to build a new stadium mile out of town with no pubs allowed within a ten mile radius. And I would have every game kicking of at 10 in the morning. If the religious tribalism appeared at any other club in Scotland the same fate would await them. This medieval shit has no place in Scotland and is a stain on out nation.

WHAT WE ASK

The descent of Britain's Afghan campaign into a Vietnam-style madness

By CAPTAIN DOUG BEATTIE MC

Last updated at 9:30 PM on 26th September 2009

Captain Doug Beattie and British troops, in liaison with Afghan National Army forces, capture and handcuff a Taliban fighter. The ANA are told to deliver him safely to interrogators...


The Afghan soldiers dragged our Taliban prisoner off the path. There was a burst of gunfire. "What the hell is going on?"
"They've shot the prisoner. The Afghans. They've bloody shot him."
Their medic did it with his AK-47



The beautiful little Afghan girl stared straight back at me, blankly. How could she be so expressionless? For she must have been in absolute agony. There were at least three penetration wounds to her young body, caused by a mortar shell exploding close to where she'd been playing.

The round that had done the damage had been ours - British - fired as we edged forward through part of a village in Helmand. There had been no immediate threat, none I could determine anyway, but someone else had thought otherwise.

An old man, her grandfather, approached me. Of course he couldn't have known I'd just become a grandfather too; couldn't have known the effect the suffering of a child would have on me. After the girl - Shabia - had been airlifted to hospital, I stayed with her family, desperate to show I had some humanity. I told them not to worry; she'd be OK for sure. Hollow words from a fool who knew no better.

I never saw Shabia again. And nor did her relatives. Because within hours she died. She was just seven years old. I heard later how the British authorities refused to pay her father the compensation he'd requested, based on the size of dowry Shabia would have received when she married. The excuse for not paying? Her death had been ' incidental'; she was a casualty of conflict.

It made me ashamed - of myself, of the Army, and of my country. Even if there were rules, did no one have a degree of compassion? An ounce of foresight?



How were we going to win the battle to bring the civilians onside if we killed one of their number and offered nothing to ease the pain in terms they understood? It was heartless. It was wrong. And it was no way to wage a campaign against an enemy ready to exploit any of our mistakes to turn the 26 million people of Afghanistan against us. Christ, as if things weren't tough enough.

I was 42 and just three weeks away from making a go of it in Civvie Street when my commanding officer asked me to postpone my retirement and go on one last mission to Afghanistan with 1st Battalion, The Royal Irish Regiment, to help train members of the Afghan National Army (ANA).

All my married life I had been a soldier. My wife Margaret knew the ways of the Army inside out. And she knew me. She understood I wouldn't refuse the request, though it didn't mean she was happy about it.
'I served in Vietnam and witnessed the collapse of military discipline,' he said. 'And now as I walk about here, I see it again'

In all I'd done 14 operational tours, including Iraq, Northern Ireland, Bosnia and, in 2006, Afghanistan. But this last tour had been without the rest of the battalion. It had not been a rousing finale to a long career, which perhaps is why I volunteered to go back. I was after the last hurrah with my band of brothers.

I emerged from a Hercules into near darkness and to jeers from outgoing troops: 'Enjoy your stay at Club Helmand!' Yet for every two or three giving us lip there was another standing silent, a haunted, exhausted look on his face. He was the one who had actually been on the front line, battling the Taliban, fighting to survive.

By early 2008 there were 43,000 coalition troops from 38 nations in Afghanistan. Even Prince Harry had been doing his bit. Now it was my turn again. The first briefing upon arrival at Camp Bastion was from a sergeant-major. He stood before us and recounted the thoughts of a visiting U.S. general on the modern British soldier.
Doug Beattie and a British mentoring team brief an ANA commander



'I served in Vietnam,' he'd said, 'and witnessed first the collapse of military discipline and then the collapse of our campaign. We looked a defeated army. And now as I walk about here, I see it once more: a defeated army.'

His beef was that the Brits were not immaculately turned out. They had sideburns, moustaches and beards; their hair was unkempt. I couldn't believe it. It was a contemptuous and arrogant thing for him to say. And now a British warrant officer was wasting time telling the story.

The general had plainly not grasped the realities of going to war. When it comes to putting his life on the line, a soldier wants to be treated as an adult and wear kit that is comfortable and practical. He wants to concentrate on guns, bullets and bombs, not razors, scissors and irons. And any commander worthy of the title will recognise this and cut his men some slack.

But then nothing was subtle about the Americans. You could tell that by the Stars and Stripes that flew sneeringly above their bases, in full sight of the local population. This wasn't the way to win friends and influence people, just as the death of Shabia had not been. It was bad enough that the natural and societal hardships robbed Afghan children of the innocence of youth. Yet there we were, compounding the misery. I desperately wanted to believe the greater good was being served by our presence in Afghanistan. But I wasn't convinced; not by a long shot. Yet I could not allow introspection to get in the way. There was too much to do.

The patrol base in Marjah, 30 kilometres west of the Helmand capital Lashkar Gah, was located in a disused school. Home to 69 British and Afghan soldiers, it was vulnerable and had no power, not even a generator. Batteries were being delivered by vehicle every three or four days. It wouldn't need a genius among the Taliban to clock our routine and plan an ambush.
Doug Beattie in Attal



On my first supply run there, I was jumpy. I had witnessed enough roadside bombs to know I had no desire to meet my maker the same way. After four arduous hours we arrived, to be greeted by Sergeant Jon Mathews, who was leading the team there.

Genuine, diligent, hard-working and kind, he held the respect of his men. We worked quickly to unload the supplies and get out before the Taliban could organise a surprise for our departure. But we were not quick enough.

We had got three kilometres from the base when a large bang echoed around us. A rocket had been fired from behind, so we needed to keep pressing forwards. But after another few hundred metres the convoy ground to a halt. An ANA pick-up had been shot up and stopped. Stuck behind them, we were sitting ducks.

The enemy was putting down sustained fire. One soldier was making futile attempts to get the TacSat, the satellite communications equipment, to work. He gave up and grabbed his rifle instead.

I pulled at an Afghan who was cowering by his vehicle. In my best Pashtu I screamed: 'Fire!'
Fighting the Taliban - Afghanistan map

Now there was another problem. Eighty metres away, sitting square across the track, was a car I'd seen careering across the desert towards us just minutes before the attack. Beyond it were the mud walls of the huts some of the Taliban were sheltering in.

'Any joy with the TacSat?' I asked.

'One call, that was it.'

The TacSat should have been our link to the outside world but to get a signal the aerial had to be pointed into the sky at an exact angle of 45 degrees. It was hopeless.

In any sort of ambush the key is to keep moving, blast through without stopping. What you don't want to do - what we had ended up doing - is to stop in a killing zone. But the ANA had been trained by the Americans. The U.S. way is to pile out of the vehicles and bring as much firepower as possible to bear on the threat.

We had to get going. And that meant ramming the blockade in front of us out of the way. With a wrenching of metal, the lead vehicle in our convoy hit the hijacked Toyota saloon and bulldozed it off the road. As we thundered through the Taliban positions I brought my machine gun to bear on a group of the enemy cowering behind a wall.

Except they weren't Taliban. They were a wedding party whose car we'd just annihilated. Yet more innocent Afghans caught up in the fighting. Carjacked by the Taliban and nearly shot dead by us - it wasn't their day.

Back at camp we received bad news; it was announced we would be going back to the school - the next day, by road. I demanded a helicopter but was told none was available.

In 27 years of serving Queen and country, I never had better personal equipment than during my time in Helmand. But when it came to the big-ticket items - helicopters, vehicles, radios - there were real holes in our inventory.

Take the TacSat. What we needed to get it to work properly was an omnidirectional aerial but we were not given this kit, which meant the operator had to fiddle with the antenna until he finally managed to establish comms. Not easy when you are under fire as we had just found out. And whatever anyone at the Ministry of Defence might say, as I write this there are not enough helicopters. To my mind this costs lives.

With no helicopter available for our return to Marjah, it seemed clear to me that we should at least be sending in enough stores to last a month.

Eventually this was agreed. We set off along a different route but many of the tracks marked on the map petered out or ended in ditches. With increasing frustration, we tried to box round the obstacles. Word had got about and to the watching locals we must have looked a sorry sight: the cream of the British and Afghan armies blundering around like five-year-olds in a maze.

Then the inevitable happened. With the fury of a tornado, the enemy struck. Bullets started to rake the convoy. AK-47 rounds pummelled and punctured the skin of the vehicles.

As soon as the shooting started, the ANA soldiers once again bailed out of their pick-ups.

'Get back in and move forward,' I yelled at them.

They pointed at two flat tyres. I was getting annoyed.

'Get going before I start shooting you.'


Just ahead a pair of RPG rounds exploded close to a group of the ANA soldiers who were pressed into the dirt, praying for deliverance. If we stopped fighting, the Taliban would finish us off. The only way to respond was to give as good as we were getting.

I ran forward and screamed at the driver: 'Arocat! Move!'

He turned to the tyres then gave me one last imploring look.

'NOW!'

He scurried away.

Thanks to one of the radio operators, who was standing on top of the Land Rover, antenna in hand and arm outstretched, amazingly we had continuous comms. We were being sent an Apache to help us.

I tried to raise the pilot of the attack helicopter.

'Ugly 40, this is Amber 43. How copy?'

'Roger, Amber 43. Send grid references.'

To give him that I needed the code word for the day to translate the numbers into letters so our location could be transmitted securely even over the open frequency. Unfortunately no one knew it. Rather sheepishly I spoke again.

'Ugly 40, this is 43. Send code word. Over.'

'Boulevards.'

'Boulevards?'

What was this, University Challenge? I turned to my teammates.

'How do you spell boulevards?'

No one seemed sure. It was our fault we didn't have the code word but who had come up with boulevards? Hadn't they heard of KISS? Keep it simple, stupid!

We had an Apache desperate to assist, an enemy trying to destroy us yet it all looked set to fall apart for lack of a dictionary.

'B-o-l-e-v-a-r-d-s'? Not enough letters.

'B-o-o-lev-a-r-d-s'? Don't be stupid.

'B-o-u-l-e-v-a-r-d-s'? That looked better.

I turned to one of my men.

'Use B-O-U-L-E-V-ARD-S to translate this grid.'

Ducked down behind a wall, he did as I had asked. Thirty seconds later I spoke to the Apache pilot again and passed on the co-ordinates in code.

The reply was sobering.

'That grid puts you somewhere in Pakistan. If you want us to help, you had better get it sorted on the ground.'

Who was he to order me about?

'Ugly, I am a small unit, under fire. I have the ANA with me and trying to control them is like herding cats. Over.'
Fighting the Taliban in Helmand

By early 2008 there were 43,000 coalition troops from 38 nations in Afghanistan

We had the code but had wrongly applied it. We were no where near Pakistan. Time was running out. I decided to broadcast our location without using code. It was too late to matter. By now just about the whole of Helmand must have known we were there given all the shooting.

Within seconds the Apache was overhead. A flurry of airburst cluster rockets exploded above the tree line, releasing a deadly storm of flechettes - small darts - designed to rip through flesh.

Up ahead, the first vehicle had reached the school. After three kilometres and two-and-a-half hours under fire, we were in sight of our goal.

Once again the enemy had shown real tenacity. Even when the Apache arrived they didn't just melt away. They regarded Marjah as theirs and it didn't bode well for us.
It was so far beyond my comprehension - murdering a prisoner. I let my head sink into my hands

Days later, I was walking into the cool shadow of the school building, unable to believe I was back in Marjah yet again, when there was a huge eruption of noise and a blast wave swept over me. It was a suicide bomb. There, amid the blood and the screaming and crying, the violence and its aftermath, my men couldn't have done more. Over in a makeshift medical room, the injured - including a nine-year-old with shrapnel wounds to his leg - were being tended to.

The ANA commander explained what had happened. His men had been manning their checkpoint and spotted a teenager wearing a suicide vest. He was told to keep his arms outstretched and back off. As the human crucifix walked away, he'd glanced repeatedly at a young boy nearby. Then he exploded.

'We think the bomber was detonated by the boy,' concluded the commander.

'Well, give a description of him to the police.'

'No need, it's the boy in the medical room with the leg injury.'
Fighting the Taliban in Afghanistan

'I really wanted to believe the greater good was being served in Afghanistan. But I wasn't convinced; not by a long shot,' said Doug Beattie

The enemy had used small boys to attack us before. Women were used too. I wanted to have some sympathy for this wounded child but I couldn't find any. He was the enemy and he had tried to kill us.

That night, as I lay staring into the inky blackness, the horrors replayed themselves time and again in my mind. I kept coming back to the futility of it all. The waste of lives - on all sides. How had things got so bad that children were prepared to act and die in such a hideous manner?

Soon afterwards news came that Sergeant Jon Mathews had been killed in Marjah. He left behind a wife and young daughter. Then it was announced that the base was being closed. So what had been the point of ever setting it up? Of allowing ourselves to get bogged down in yet another enemy town with limited manpower and no easy way of being re-supplied? In my mind it had been a waste of time, a waste of resources and a waste of Jon's life.

But once again there would not be much time to dwell on what had happened. For me, the ever-shifting sands of operational requirements would lead to Patrol Base Attal, in the heart of bandit country on the western side of the Helmand River. We would be working alongside some American National Guards.

On a map of the region where red was used to signify enemy-held territory and green was for areas that we influenced, Attal was a pea bobbing about in an ocean of crimson. To compound matters, there were concerns about collusion between the ANA and the Taliban, which had resulted in everyone refusing to go out and patrol.

But what was the alternative? Wait to be attacked, like fish in a barrel?

So I insisted we push out into the lush fringes of vegetation and cultivation either side of the river. Because of the camouflaging foliage, this was where most of the enemy activity took place. We had to take the fight to them.

Somewhere ahead of me several shots rang out, accompanied by frenzied shouting from the ANA.

'What's happening?'

'The Afghans have taken a prisoner. He had a rifle and a radio.'

'Good. Make sure they search him, cuff him and take him back to the company commander.'
An Afghan National Army soldier

The Afghan National Army had been trained by the Americans

I started to feel nervous again, the sick feeling returned. I hated these moments. It was all but inevitable someone was about to shoot at us. But who was in their sights? Me? The guy behind? Without warning, a rocket-propelled grenade snaked through the undergrowth past us, fired from a compound no more than 70 metres away. Everyone dived for cover.

Cautiously I raised my head to see exactly where the enemy positions were as I radioed for help. Fire continued to whip towards us. I didn't find it easy to identify where the enemy was firing from but somehow the ANA had a knack for doing so. Close by lay an Afghan officer. I shouted out to him. In return he gave a big smile and held up the arms of the bound prisoner next to him.

Slowly the ANA troops moved towards the compound. They used their grenades to clear it, with devastating results - at least for the six Taliban who were killed. We'd been successful. We'd killed a number of the enemy and recovered some of their equipment. Crucially, the ANA had - eventually - stepped up to the mark and done the job. We'd even taken a prisoner - though, as I looked round at him, I could see he was taking a bit of punishment from one of his captors.

'Oi! Don't be doing that,' I screamed. The soldier meting out the blows gave me a quizzical look and wandered off.

We started to pull out. The ANA soldiers were in front with Stevo, a Royal Irish colleague, and our prisoner. Suddenly a burst of gunfire stopped me in my tracks.

I grabbed my radio: 'Stevo, what the hell is going on?'

'They've shot the prisoner. The Afghans - they've bloody shot him.'
Afghan National Army soldiers

For five months Doug Beattie with 1st battalion, The Royal Irish Regiment, trained, mentored and advised the Afghan National Army

I waded through the field to where he was lying, dead. Stevo described what had happened: the ANA soldiers had dragged the prisoner off the path and one had stepped forward to execute him. No hesitation, no discussion, no qualms. And who'd pulled the trigger?

Their medic, using his AK-47. Several others had then opened fire to finish him off, as if that was necessary.

In 27 years of soldiering I had never experienced anything remotely like it. It was so far beyond my comprehension... murdering a prisoner. I let my head sink into my hands, trying to rub the frustration and anger out of my eyes. How had it come to this?

For five months we had trained and mentored and advised the ANA, trying to equip them with the skills and standards necessary to provide security for their country and its population. At that moment, the prospect of such a thing happening was about a million light years away. These people were never going to preside over a just system.

Look at what they were capable of. What a waste of time! I glanced up and saw the blokes around me were thinking the same. We were ordered to return to base, leaving behind the ANA and the body, but only after we had taken pictures as evidence.

Through all the blood and bullets, the dead and the wounded, and the sickening sights, I wanted to believe I had done some good and changed things for the better. Now I seriously wondered whether I could ever make any difference, whether anyone could. What was the point of being here?

What was the point of risking my life, of risking anything, for a country that at that moment didn't seem worth saving - perhaps couldn't be saved? But I'd signed on the dotted line, agreed to remain in the Army and complete my tour. And so I carried on.

We went out on patrol the next day, and then every day after that, tackling the Taliban head-on, giving as good as we got. Judging from the enemy radio traffic we intercepted after one skirmish, we had killed or wounded more than 30 of them. Corroboration of our success came in the form of a delegation of elders who said that so badly had the Taliban been bloodied that they'd retreated north. Through the villagers, the local Taliban even offered us an unofficial truce.

Going out got harder and harder. As the end of my tour approached all I wanted to do was keep my head down and get home safely. In six months I had racked up 50 major contacts. I was exhausted. But at last it was time to leave Attal, salvation arriving in the form of a Chinook swinging in low from the south-west, the rhythmic clatter of rotor blades quickly growing louder. We rushed on board.

Lifting off, I twisted round to look down at the camp. Even when we were in it, it had seemed small and vulnerable; from the air it looked pathetic. To me it symbolised the war in Afghanistan.


Here we were in the 21st century, yet the scene laid out below me could have been straight out of the Beau Geste era: an outpost made of mud, situated in a harsh environment, manned by a tiny contingent of coalition soldiers, surrounded by adversaries who hated us and locals who didn't understand us. I wasn't sorry to be leaving.

Back in Britain, on October 17 2008, three days after my 43rd birthday, those soldiers of the Royal Irish Regiment who had served in Afghanistan received their campaign medals. As the presentation finished, we marched off the square to the strains of Killaloe, played by the regimental band.

I was mindful of the ones who weren't taking part - not because they didn't want to but because they couldn't. One was Ranger Andy Allen. Just 19 years old, he was missing both his legs and - at that time - some of his eyesight. But if I was inclined to feel any pity for him, he immediately put me straight.

'Things aren't so bad,' he said, peering up at me and holding my gaze.

'At least I've still got my arms to hold my child.'

If I was an ordinary soldier, then truly he was an extraordinary one.

There is an old saying: 'I am no hero but I served alongside heroes.'

Alone, I walked off to my car, got in it and went home. As a civilian.


'Task Force Helmand' by Doug Beattie, is published by Simon & Schuster on October 1 at £17.99.

To order at the special price of £13.99 with free p&p, call the Live Bookstore on 0845 155 0730

WHAT WE ASK OF SOLDIERS

Yes.. It is like that!

Count your blessings, pray for them,

And The next time when...

The other car cuts you off and you must hit the brakes,
Or you have to park a little further from the supermarket door than you want to be,
Or you're served slightly warm food at the restaurant,
Or you're sitting and cursing the traffic in front of you,

Or the shower runs out of hot water,

Think of them...

Mandy warns Brown.

Pop into Tesco and get,some vaseline for tonight dear, your eye is looking a bit red this morning.

The Australians got this right...

THE AUSSIE WAY.
The Australians got this right...

Muslims who want to live under Islamic Sharia law were told on Wednesday to get out of Australia, as the government targeted radicals in a bid to head off potential terror attacks.

A day after a group of mainstream Muslim leaders pledged loyalty to Australia and her Queen at a special meeting with Prime Minister John Howard, he and his Ministers made it clear that extremists would face a crackdown.

Treasurer Peter Costello, seen as heir apparent to Howard, hinted that some radical clerics could be asked to leave the country if they did not accept that Australia was a secular state, and its laws were made by parliament.

"If those are not your values, if you want a country which has Sharia law or a theocratic state, then Australia is not for you," he said on national television.

"I'd be saying to clerics who are teaching that there are two laws governing people in Australia: one the Australian law and another the Islamic law, that is false. If you can't agree with parliamentary law, independent courts, democracy, and would prefer Sharia law and have the opportunity to go to another country, which practices it, perhaps, then, that's a better option," Costello said.

Asked whether he meant radical clerics would be forced to leave, he said those with dual citizenship could possibly be asked to move to the other country.

Education Minister Brendan Nelson later told reporters that Muslims who did not want to accept local values should "clear off. Basically, people who don't want to be Australians, and who don't want to live by Australian values and understand them, well then, they can basically clear off," he said.

Separately, Howard angered some Australian Muslims on Wednesday by saying he supported spy agencies monitoring the nation's mosques.

Quote: "IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT.

Take It Or Leave It. I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on Bali, we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Australians."

"However, the dust from the attacks had barely settled when the 'politically correct' crowd began complaining about the possibility that our patriotism was offending others. I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Australia."

"However, there are a few things that those who have recently come to our country, and apparently some born here, need to understand."

"This idea of Australia being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Australians, we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle."

"This culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom"

"We speak mainly ENGLISH, not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society, Learn the language!"

"Most Australians believe in God. This is not some Christian, right wing, political push, but a fact, because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.

It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture."

"We will accept your beliefs, and will not question why. All we ask is that you accept ours, and live in harmony and peaceful enjoyment with us."

"If the Southern Cross offends you, or you don't like "A Fair Go", then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet.

We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from. By all means, keep your culture, but do not force it on others.

"This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE'."

"If you aren't happy here then LEAVE. We didn't force you to come here. You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted."

Maybe if we circulate this amongst ourselves, English citizens will find the backbone to start speaking and voting the same truths!!

Iain Gray

And Iain Gray said.................something that everyone immediately forgot.

10 questions for unionists?

Question 1:

Everyone tells us that Scotland is too poor to stand on its own feet and we will always require an English subsidy.

Fact Scotland has 8.6% of the UK population yet raises 10.41% of all UK tax revenues. (Source Treasury red Book 2002) Go figure it out for yourself. Exactly who is subsidising who?

Question 2.

Scotland could not survive without the Barnet formula handout from England .

The Barnett Formula is nothing more than a device that gives Scotland some of its own pocket money out of Scotland 's pay packet, which is taken by England . In 2002, Scotland contributed £42.7Billions to the UK Exchequer and received £18.1 Billions doled back in return via Barnet. It would be a much better idea to keep the £42.7 Billions as an Independent Country.

Question 3.

North sea oil is running out fast and soon there will be nothing left......

According to Professor Alex Kemp, of Petroleum Economics at the University of Aberdeen . North Sea Oil and Gas production will still be present in 2050. There is as much known oil left yet to be extracted than has already been exploited.

Question 4.

Britain is becoming a net importer of oil and natural gas.

False. Scotland is a net exporter of Oil and Gas. Fact: An independent Scotland with 17.5% of Europe 's Oil reserves will be a net exporter of oil and gas for at least 25 years more years. Properly invested the proceeds will make Scotland the second richest nation on earth for its size. There will be huge social and economic benefits for all Scotland 's Citizens and public services.

Question 5.

Scotland is too poor and small to afford to defend itself.

Why not? Switzerland uses just 1% of its GDP to provide a modern efficient Army and Air force. Norway spends 1.9% and can defend itself adequately. The UK spends 2.32% of GDP on its armed forces (Including Trident,which is accounted for in the Scottish budget,) Scotland can afford 1.6% of its GDP and still have modern professional armed forces half the size of the present UK.

Question 6.

We have a huge balance of payments problem, Scotland cannot possibly hope to pay her way.

False. The UK as a whole has Balance of Payments deficit of £35 Billions per annum. Scotland however actually contributes a Surplus of £2.3Billions.

Question 7.

Scotland could not compete against the mighty economic muscle of England .

Untrue. Denmark has an economic superpower to her south ( Germany ) and she does very well indeed. Switzerland is surrounded by three great economic superpowers, France , Italy , and Germany , yet she is the most prosperous nation in Europe . Singapore is a tiny island of 4 million people right next door to Indonesia with a population if 201 Millions yet is the powerhouse driving the SE Asian economy. Scotland has more than enough expertise to compete and prosper.

Question 8.

Scotland is too far away from the centre of Europe to prosper.

Iceland with a population of only 400,000, is situated far to the north by the arctic circle yet has the third highest standard of living in Europe .

Question 9.

The City of London is too powerful a financial centre for Scotland to compete against.

Scotland is one of Europe 's top ten financial centres, supporting employment for in the region of 200,000 people. Financial Services accounts for 8% of Scotland 's GDP and generates more than £20 bn annually for the economy. Scotland is reckoned to be the 12th leading global financial centre.

Question 10.

Scotland does not have the financial expertise to run its own affairs.

Who says so? It's strange that the late British Empire relied on a preponderance of Scots to run their affairs. Scots bankers, economists and Accountants (reckoned the best in their fields) are to be found at all levels of Government. Therefore, the expertise is there.

NEW BALLS

Is it me or is she reaching for new balls, whilst he has obviously let his mind wander through the valleys?????

Newsnicht.

Out of curiosity I watched Newsnicht tonight, with the back stabbing arch unionist quisling Glenn Campbell at the helm. The article on the job losses in Livingston and the odious stealth bomber Murphy trying to be all statesman like, and justify his non job as Anti Scottish Secretary of State,(ASS) trying to make us believe that he was heading up some really great cross party consensus initiative and banging heads together to stop companies fleeing to the much more tax favourable nation of Ireland. Was just a disgusting sick joke.

First up we had the vile gloating reptilian spectacle of Iain Macmillan, the treacherous back stabbing shit who did his very best to ensure that American companies do not come to Scotlnd.

Iain McMillan, director of CBI Scotland, which represents Scottish business, said there was a real risk that the country's businesses could suffer as a result of the al-Megrahi decision. Online discussion rooms and Scottish newspapers have received messages from U.S. citizens saying they won't be visiting, and a Web site called boycottscotland.com has been set up.

His bum boy bringing up the rear said:"The Scottish government and its legal system are a laughingstock around the world," said Paul McBride, one of Scotland's top defense lawyers.

And then we had the stealth bomber Murphy on the Newsnicht piece, who contradicting his earlier cringing, could not put party politics aside and sneered once more at the arc of prosperity by naming Iceland, Norway and Ireland. He also got his lie in about us being stronger as part of the UK etc etc etc. Notably Alex Salmonds voice was not allowed to be heard only unionist voices were allowed. Alex Salmond was shown with a smirk on his face, which considering the shit he had to listen to was not surprising. But very sinister subliminal manipulation of the meida which BBC editors are now expert at.

On to the interview stage where we had the nonentity New Labour MSP James Kelly, who looked like he had been dooking for chips, and from the SNP, Joe Fitzpatrick who in the usual Newsnicht back stabbing Campbell way was constantly interrupted.

Once more Kelly just could not stop the partisan digging at the SNP having a go at the Scottish Futures Trust and despite being chided by Campbell that it did not sound as if party politics was put aside, was so programmed that he just carried on with his anti SNP bluster. Then bleating like an orphaned lamb about the Civil servants co-operating with the SNP by preparing for independence.

Is it any wonder that the SNP have left these ignorant oiks in their dust.

50 years of Labour rule, you had your chance and blew it through greed and corruption, go to hell Labour.

THE MALTESE DOUBLE CROSS

BLACK FARCE

A Black Farce
Was how the vote in the Scottish parliament was described last night on Newsnight Scotland by Iain Macwhirter

To imagine that Scotland has come all that far down the civilised road was impossible as we watched all these closed faces of minds long since made up. This was not about Megrahi,but about cheap and despicable political point scoring ,which robbed Scotland for the moment at least of its moral leadership of the world,as noted by Nelson Mandela.


The sheer wretchedness of these moral and political pygmies was commented upon by Dr Jim Swire on Newsnight Scotland. Labour under the non leadership of Ian Gray had boxed itself into a complete corner and publicly disassociated itself the London leadership of Gordon Brown. The ever opportunistic Fib Dems, forever without a principle other than self- seeking and self -interest, had long since made up their minds.


Perhaps the most revealing was the Tories. We have quietly come to believe the Tories in Scotland have mutated into almost half decent human beings. Not so, they told us yesterday. The vile spectre of Margaret Thatcher hung all over them as the shrill voice of Annabel Goldie reminded us of permanently closed Tory minds. A rather sad day for Scotland,but what is already emerging is that it is not the SNP that is going to pay the political price for this black farce.

OOR ECK KICKING ERSE

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM

Two soldiers from The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland, were killed as a result of an explosion that happened whilst on a foot patrol north of Lashkar Gah District, southern Helmand Province on the morning of Monday 31 August 2009.


Jonah strikes again, I cringe every time Brown shows up in Afghanistan or any where near our forces to get his rictus coupon in the news and try and boost his flagging ratings. He did not have the decency to show up for the opening of the new centre in Edinburgh for veterans, despite living 17 miles up the road, yet he sent a congratulation to the English cricket team on winning the ashes.

Perhaps it was because the centre exists because of charity and nothing he could score points of.

If ever the word quisling appled it applies to him, what a revolting bastard.
=====================================================================================



It is with sadness that the Ministry of Defence has confirmed the death of Sergeant Stuart Millar and Private Kevin Elliott of The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland.

The soldiers were killed as a result of an explosion believed to have been caused by a rocket-propelled grenade when they were attacked by insurgents whilst patrolling on foot in Babaji District, Helmand Province on the morning of Monday 31 August 2009.

Sergeant Stuart 'Gus' Millar

Sgt Stuart 'Gus' Millar, aged 40 from Inverness, joined the British Army in November 2000, after service in the Territorial Army.

Following training he joined the Mortar Platoon of 1st Battalion The Royal Highland Fusiliers. He served in Northern Ireland, Falkland Islands, Cyprus and Iraq. He moved to The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland (3 SCOTS) as a mortar fire controller in Belfast in July 2007 and deployed to Afghanistan in April 2009.

Sgt Millar's family said:

"Gus always wanted to be a soldier from a very young age. He passionately enjoyed his job and often talked fondly about his colleagues and friends.

"He was very brave and is a credit to both our family and the Army. We are really proud of him as a father, son, brother and soldier."

Lieutenant Colonel Stephen Cartwright, Commanding Officer of The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland said:

"I have been fortunate to know Sgt Gus Millar for many years and we have shared many happy moments, not least dragging ourselves over the Aonach Eagach Ridge in Glencoe some eight years ago. He was one of a very select few characters in the Battalion that I could sound out for 'ground truth', due to his friendship, honesty, integrity and humour.

"Sgt Gus Millar was a dedicated and professional Senior Non-Commissioned Officer. A career mortarman, he loved his job and during this tour had been able to put all his experience and years of training to the ultimate test in the most demanding of environments. He was a wonderfully kind and dependable man: the solid rock amongst the shingle. He had a remarkable sense of duty and has been the continuity in the development of the mortar platoon over the years.

"In his role as a mortar fire controller, he was at the very front of the action throughout the summer, famously being caught on the ITN news on the first day of Op Panther's Claw, complaining that a long fire fight with the insurgents had delayed his 'morning brew'. It was typical of the man: in the thick of the action, professional expertise to the fore, combined with his wonderfully positive and humorous style. But he had a bite when required, and the Jocks knew not to cross the line.

"He had a truly wonderful sense of humour and it is this facet of this great man that we will all miss the most.

"He has given his life in the service of his comrades, for the Royal Regiment of Scotland, his country and the people of Afghanistan. We all consider ourselves truly privileged to have known him, to have served with him.

"He was 40 years young and married his wife Jillian last year. They have a very young and beautiful daughter, Grace. He showed a recent picture of them to the Padre, beamed with pride and tucked it into his notebook, minutes before he deployed on this operation. All our deepest thoughts and prayers are with Jillian and Grace as well as Gus' family and friends at this most tragic time.

"Whilst the pain of this loss to them is unimaginable I hope they will draw considerable strength from the fact that we all will cherish some wonderful memories of the humourous rock that Gus was. We will all miss him terribly."

Private Kevin Elliott

Private Kevin Elliott, aged 24 from Dundee, of The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland, attended Braeview Academy in Dundee where he was a keen boxer and footballer. He joined the Army in 2002.

After basic training he was posted to Bravo Company, later moving to Charlie (Fire Support) Company. He had previously served in Iraq and Northern Ireland.

Pte Elliott's family said:

"Kevin was a loving son, brother, grandson, brother, nephew, uncle and cousin who will be sorely missed by the whole family."

Lieutenant Colonel Stephen Cartwright, Commanding Officer of The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion The Royal Regiment of Scotland said:

"Pte Elliott was an awesome fighting Jock, who was very much in his comfort zone here on demanding operations in Afghanistan. He lived his life one day at a time and it is fair to say that he did not especially enjoy 'peacetime soldiering' - like many a Jock that has gone before, he was a lovable rogue.

"He was on the verge of leaving the Army earlier this year, but his inclination to be in the thick of the action was too tempting and he caught the last transport to Afghanistan with his mates. He loved operations and he was a big team player.

"It was no surprise to hear that in this tragic incident, he was the first man on the roof in the defensive position, the first to volunteer to protect his colleagues in a dangerous area. That sums up the man; he took life seriously when it was important to do so, and he was a first class field soldier as a result. He would never let his friends down.

"Pte Elliott's loss will be hard to accept by all who knew him well. We will not forget his sacrifice, giving his life protecting his friends, representing his Regiment and his country, and so that the people of Afghanistan might have a better future.

"We offer our deepest thoughts and condolences to his family and friends and that they might gain some strength that he has died in the service of others, doing a professional job that he loved."

Megrahi Trial.

A good summary of the Megrahi trial on here!

SENT TO COVENTRY

THIS BITTER SWEET ARTICLE BY AN ARTICLE CALLED POOLE HAS CAUSED ME TO FIRE AN E-MAIL AT HIS EDITOR.










SNP got Lockerbie bomber release correct

Aug 25 2009 by Alan Poole
WORDS I never thought I’d say – the Scottish National Party were right.

A phrase I never dreamed would drift across my consciousness, let alone pass my lips – leave Alex Salmond alone!

The SNP, of course, are at best parochial parasites, at worst insidious racists, while their leader is a politician who miraculously contrives to make Tony Benn seem modest, Paddy Ashdown sincere and David Cameron patrician.

But it was little short of revolting to watch him subjected to a relentless round of radio and TV inquisitions because Abdul Baset Ali al-Megrahi has been allowed to return to Libya for the last few months of his life.

And the possibility that Salmond and his government could now be forced out of power by an unholy unelected alliance of the UK media and the US intelligence services is such an affront to the core principles of justice and democracy that it tempts the most ardent Unionist to head north for a gathering of the clans.

Despite what you might gather from the lobby correspondents at Westminster and Holyrood, nobody has a clue as to the extent of the political and commercial pressure piled on to Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill as he pondered his decision.

But the glaring flaw in all of those supposedly well-informed conspiracy theories is that they pre-suppose a secret pact between Salmond and Gordon Brown – the two British politicians least likely to do each other a favour if their lives depended on it.

Boycott Scotland

Well done who ever spoofed this site.







Boycott Scotland

"In Scotland, we are a people who pride ourselves on our humanity. The perpetration of an atrocity and outrage cannot and should not be a basis for losing sight of who we are, the values we seek to uphold, and the faith and beliefs by which we seek to live."

– Kenny MacAskill, Cabinet Secretary for Justice

Abdel Baset al-Megrahi did not show his victims any humanity or mercy, so why did Scotland decide to show him any? How can we possibly show these terrorists that we will not be intimidated if we continue to be better than they are?

The bombing of Iran Air Flight 655 Pan Am Flight 103 was a courageous cowardly act deserving of the Legion of Merit no mercy.

The actions of the Scottish government are despicable. They have freed a man responsible for the mass murder of 270 innocent civilians, therefore, they, and the rest of Scotland must be held responsible, for ultimately the people of a democratic nation are responsible for its leadership.

Because of this I urge every American to Boycott Scotland. It is the only way we Americans can ensure that every nation maintains and respects our rules, our laws, and shares our viewpoint.
The Boycott

Every self-respecting American should immediately ensure that they do not purchase, own or use any of the following as it could be construed as supporting Scotland and their terrorist friendly regime.

Road Travel

The pneumatic tyre, tarmac and the two stroke engine are all Scottish inventions and as such should be avoided. Unfortunately it is best if you don't cycle either as that was also invented by a Scotsman. For the time being please walk instead.
Television

Set down the remote control, unhook the cable and turn off the television set as its inventor was born in Helensburgh. I know it might be difficult, but think about all the time you will have free to do other things, just make sure you walk to them.
Communication

I urge you to please get the word out about this site and the Boycott, but do not telephone your loved ones or write to them (best to avoid postcards, fax & radio as well).
Bridges

Please do not use any of America's suspension bridges as their construction is due to another Scottish invention.

If you do have a suspension bridge in your area please consider contacting your local government official and demand its removal.
Finger Printing

Any American citizen convicted using finger print evidence should be pardoned immediately.
Medical

Moms to be, cancel that ultrasound. Kid taken a tumble down the stairs? Am sure they'll be ok, just ensure they don't have an MRI.

All diabetes sufferers should immediately cease all use of Insulin (its ok, you wouldn't have been able to inject it anyway)

If you are currently taking any of the following (or any other beta blocker) dispose of them;

* acebutolol
* bisoprolol
* esmolol
* propranolol
* atenolol
* labetalol
* carvedilol
* metoprolol
* nebivolol

and you'll have to find an alternative treatment for that unfortunate bout of syphilis
Cold beer

Remove all beverages from the fridge, a cooler will have to do. Just remember that every warm beer is bringing us one step closer to Scotland relenting. A reduction in liquid consumption might be a good thing as every patriotic American should remove the flush toilet from their bathroom.
Sport

While enjoying your warm FREEDOM™ beer please petition your local government official to begin disbanding the American PGA (remember not to use the telephone, post, radio, fax or a computer - perhaps their office is within walking distance?) also you should urge Lance Armstrong to be a true all American and give up cycling.

The UK

Although the final decision fell to Scotland we should also apply pressure to the rest of the UK in the hope that they can influence Scotland, a tactic which has worked well in the past. Because of this I advise every American to also remove the following products from their homes.

Pencils, Clockwork Radios, The World Wide Web, anything containing LCDs, microphones, SMS messaging, typewriter, fiber optics (inc cable internet & television), Universal Turing machines (i.e computers), pocket calculators, anything containing RAM, 3D Computer games, MP3 Players, PDAs, any clothing manufactured with the aid of a sewing machine, anything made of polyester, Adjustable spanners, anything that uses an electric transformer, diesel engines, any torches etc containing LEDs. Oh, and no more of mom's apple pie.
Show your support

Please send this page on to every patriotic American you know, we must raise as much awareness as possible for this campaign to make an impact. If you would like to send the webmaster a message of support you can do so by emailing contact@boycottscotland.co.uk

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Quislings

The charges of Quisling and Traitor are often used to describe certain groups of people who comment and pour scorn on the SNP and the ambitions of many Scots to secede from the UK. These same people, such as for example AM2 on the Scotsman forum, under his many monikers then try and spin this as anti-English sentiment which according to them is rife in the SNP.

When we see Scots touting their opinions on American newspapers, making statements such as this:

"The Scottish government and its legal system are a laughingstock around the world," said Paul McBride, one of Scotland's top defense lawyers.

Iain McMillan, director of CBI Scotland, which represents Scottish business, said there was a real risk that the country's businesses could suffer as a result of the al-Megrahi decision. Online discussion rooms and Scottish newspapers have received messages from U.S. citizens saying they won't be visiting, and a Web site called boycottscotland.com has been set up." I am quite happy to apply the tag of traitor to these individuals. The director of the CBI in Scotland, who's job it is to promote and foster commerce in this country, making statements like that would in many other countries see him in jail. Lucky for him then that he bides in a compassionate and liberal country with a social conscience that allows freedom of expression. What a disgusting creep you are McMillan, (I know he is an avid reader of my rantings.)

Much of the so called American comment is so predictable and transparent that it is obviously manufactured by the Britnats, it is juvenile and idiotic.

As to boycottscotland.com having read it. It is quite obvious to me that the text has been composed by a British author, certainly not American. Paul McBride has form on this kind of cyber slimne, so putting two and two together I would not be in the least surprised if he and his gang of anti Scottish chums are behind it. It has been said by both Brown and Cameron, that they will, "do whatever it takes," to keep Scotland in the union.

This is now going badly wrong for the Britnats. Browns statement is just fence sitting, he will never be elected as PM of the UK.