In praise of… our armed forces

I don’t know if you heard, but there is a campaign this week which is encouraging us to show our appreciation for all the hard work that our armed forces have been doing in Iraq and Afghanistan. We are being asked by one of the campaign organisers to create a logo for a t-shirt, anything that takes our fancy, and send it to them. The intention is to improve our soldiers’ morale and fill their hearts with warm and loving feelings towards humanity when they realise how appreciated they really are. We should then post the t-shirts to them at the same time, thereby creating one of those Hollywood moments at the end of the film when the poignant music plays while the weary soldiers, having witnessed every kind of atrocity known to mankind, open their packages at the same time. For that extra touch of emotion, they could drape one of the guys who didn’t make it with one of these t-shirts.

An admirable idea, I’m sure you’ll agree. But that was yesterday and since I missed the deadline for sending the t-shirt, I decided to write this post instead because I just couldn’t pass this opportunity to express my feelings of gratitude.

It must be a source of great distress to our brave boys and girls that the latte-swigging, Guardian-reading lefties scoff and roll their eyes whenever an idea as noble as this is suggested. What our soldiers would like is for a bit of appreciation from the British public; you know, perhaps nothing quite as OTT as what the American soldiers get back home; the red carpet treatment would suffice. They do, after all, lay their lives on the line for us, and as Demi Moore once famously said: “They stand on that wall and say ‘nothing will happen to you, not on my watch’” (assuming there are no friendly fire incidents). Stirring stuff indeed. Mr Kipling, as well as making exceedingly good cakes, wrote a bit of kaki-nosed poetry in his spare time too. He called this phenomenon “mocking those who guard you while you sleep”.

Oh and how they mock. What those tree-hugging, sandal-wearing beardy-weirdies don’t realise is that when those impressionable young people joined up, it had nothing to do with the recruitment ads on TV which implied that joining the army is a lot of fun really; all that climbing up and skiing down mountains, “playing” with a lot of hi-tech kit, or even learning to drive through an unlit wooded area instead of joy-riding around the backstreets of Southshields. Nor, as they point out between gulps of fruit tea and mouthfuls of muesli, did they join because of later ads which suggested that being in the army would make them a lot more attractive to the opposite sex. You know the sort of thing: in them, female officers could expect leering men in bars to become completely incapacitated, and sometimes even soil themselves, in anticipation of the kinky sex that lay ahead, after introducing themselves as Captain Dimwit and Lieutenant Spongebrains. Equally, male officers could expect women to become so up-for-it once they listened to the two bragging pilots discussing who was better at landing helicopters in a storm, that a simple tap on the shoulder would automatically cause their knickers to fall down around their ankles.

Nope. They are too bright and perceptive to fall for that kind of trickery. They joined because they wanted to make a difference. Like the gallant Great War soldier, guided by the romantic image of charging at an enemy machinegun turret armed only with a single-shot rifle and bayonet, they wanted to combat the forces of evil. They are also intelligent enough to understand that their superiors know best, and it is not up to them to question orders, however amoral or irrational they may appear. They comprehend at once that their commanding officers are acting on behalf of Queen and Country, and Her Majesty is, after all, the Head of the Church and as such instinctively knows God’s will.

It’s all about courage, you see – a concept which the vegetable protein-munching, raspberry frappuccino-guzzling liberals cannot grasp. It takes courage to press that red button knowing that innocent people are going to die, just like it takes balls the size of watermelons to invade a country to depose a tyrannical regime which we helped implement and supported in the first place. All that, and their faces still manage to retain their usual pallor.

It is about time that we recognised that sort of bravery in this country. For my part, I would like to say a huge thank you to those brave boys and girls out there doing their bit. Thank you for making our country richer with the extra oil. For me personally it has been a huge bonus. Being a curvaceous 25-stone person, I can now afford to fill my two-ton 4×4 with petrol and drive to McDonald’s for my daily extra large big mac, instead of having to walk the twenty-minute round trip. And for all that, I shall be eternally grateful.

Now, since I missed the chance to send the t-shirt that I designed, I thought I might post what I came up with here. I hope you like it:

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A ‘V’ for Victory, of course.

Oh and I do hope that you will forgive the placard-carrying, pink champagne-sipping socialists for their unpatriotic dissent. Forgive them for they know not what they say. It says so in the Bible. You understand, I’m sure, that the main reason for wreaking such havoc around the world is so that we can all express our opinions freely without fear of persecution.

Now praise the lord and go kill them all. And remember, it’s not rape if they’re dead.


27 Responses

  1. Hilarious and right on target, as ever Edvard (and about time, too!)

  2. I have just spat a mouthful of free-range granola all over my keyboard in disgust. I shall not be coming back.

  3. vitriolic. i don’t think i’ve ever really used that word before.

  4. Edvard’s back. Look out.

  5. I say, Edvard, old chap, I think you’re a little bit cross.

    (I missed you. I missed you lots.)

  6. Apologies for dimness but I have snot for brains at the moment. Is this sarcastic and if so, in which direction?

  7. loving your irony!

  8. Save your Tshirt, Marcos.
    And get yourself a felt-tip pen to turn the “K” in Irak into an “N”…

  9. we shall fight on the blogs.
    we shall fight on the internet.
    we shall fight in the comments and the linky love.
    we shall never surrender.

  10. Um.

    You’re kind of scary.

    In a good way, of course.

  11. Spot on Ed.
    Glad you’re back.

  12. Ah, that makes sense. Thank you for indulging my current state (aka hard of thinking). Apart from the thick psychotic haze, how is the zyban?

  13. enidd: I have nothing to offer but blog, toilet jokes, crocodile tears and sweaty pits.

    bohemienne: um, thanks. but can you give me any examples of people who are ‘scary in a good way’?

    herhimnbryn: thank you.

    angelalala: zyban is a scary and powerful drug, and not in a good way at all. at the moment, it doesn’t seem too bad, but on the third day of taking it it made me feel like I was losing my marbles, which is not to say I wasn’t anyway…

  14. Ho, ho, point well made.

    But on a serious note, I DO feel sorry for our armed forces who are mired in this dreadful conflict in Iraq. Soldiers are human beings, too, and they went there believing they were fighting against terrorism and trying to stop a madman with Weapons of Mass Destruction.

    But it was all based on a lie; there were no Weapons of that ilk. If I were an officer out there I’d feel utterly betrayed and angry. How could I tell my men that what they were doing was a good thing? I couldn’t. And so everyday I’d send them out to go out on patrol to kill or be killed and all for what?

    Blair should hang his head in shame but, like all politicians, he’ll just move on to another job, another fat salary all expenses paid. Meanwhile, the bodybags are sent home every week and the mutilated and wounded are quietly forgotten.

    Anyway, pleased to see you’re back safe and sounding off again!

  15. I think that might just go down as the most gulp-inducing last sentences I have ever read. I am seriously worried about the psyches of these soldiers when they come back from all that condoned blood thirstiness.

    And you wonder why I’m a pacifist.

    PS My son’s birthday was on Saturday and he received a “play”pistol, num-chuks, handcuffs, a sword and a dagger as gifts from guests. How very lovely. What kind of message are we trying to send here, people?

  16. brilliant-hilarious…. ( and now I know who to look out for when next in Harrogate…..24 stone , beardy guardian carrying sandal wearing etc etc ….)

  17. dumdad: well, yes, fair point, and I’m sure it’s a view which a lot of people who were either for or against the war would share. but you know, it’s not as if anyone forced them to join; they chose to be in the army, and they could just as easily quit when they find themselves being asked to do something which they might consider morally questionable. I suppose I just don’t go along with the general consensus that the army is a sacred cow, and as such exempt from scrutiny or criticism by the public.

    maryam: ‘condoned blood thirstiness’ is right on the money, I think.

    isabelle: thank you. well, I’m terribly sorry to disappoint, but my real weight is in fact less than 12 stone. Also, I have, to date, managed to resist the occasional uncontrollable urge to wear sandals…

  18. Edvard,

    Interesting point about quitting the army re morally questionable situations. I haven’t the figures to hand but I believe a huge amount of service personnel are leaving especially skilled ones. If I were in the army I’d be looking to quit; but then again I wouldn’t have joined in the first place!

    I also agree with you that the army should not be exempt from scrutiny or criticism by the public. Nor should any service, be it police or fire brigade, forget that it is meant to be serving and protecting the public.

  19. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, be angry or just order another raspberry-flavoured drink. Really.

  20. […] Edvaard Moonke: In Praise Of… our Armed Forces [nominated by […]

  21. i was really scared until the last couple of sentences, where i laughed long and hard. it’s my first time here (via persisting stars).

  22. Well, I’ve obviously missed out, cuz I’ve just found you and didn’t know you were gone. I read your recent piece over at IndieBloggers and liked it. But this piece here is simply to die for. Thanks, you give me hope that there are sane people in the world. And to think that the sane ones must try to be insane to get their points across, so sweet.

  23. Edvard,

    Have you stopped blogging?

    Say it ain’t so….

  24. Wot Dumdad said. Missing you… I do hope you and Mrs Moonke and the Moonkelet are doing OK.

  25. hello edvard mr, how are you ? merry christmas… hope you come back soon but more importantly, hope things are wonderful for you xxx

  26. Same sentiment as Peach.

    Happy New Year.

    Hope you are keeping well.



  27. Hey sweetie, I muchly hope the things that are keeping you from blogging are the very best of things xx

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