I Was Going To Title This -

"She Was Only A Coal Miner's Daughter"

But then realised that there's a genuine film going by close to the same title, as well as perhaps a country music album (which I couldn't be bothered looking up), so in the interests of clarity we didn't go with that.  Art!

Properly apostrophised

     Then I was unsure what the follow-on from the title would be, because what perks or privileges does one accrue as the daughter of a coal miner?  Do miners get free coal?  Or would we need to bring in an awareness of silicosis as an occupational hazard?  Roof collapse?  Flooding?  Flammable gas?  

     Here an aside.  There are such things as mine refuge chambers, which, if we can prod Art into sentience -

     These things are for emergency accommodation, principally in mines, and are air- and water-tight, with an atmospheric scrubbing system to keep the air breathable, water, rations and an independent power supply.

     ANYWAY I thought we'd lead with another story about malicious manglement, because everyone loves a story where idiot managers prove they were promoted several levels above their ability or competency.

     Original Poster worked for a health organisation, where one of his friends, Ted, was responsible for health analytics, and for notifying department heads of appropriate monthly, quarterly and annual grants and funding based on his accumulated data.  Art!

     Enter Sally.  Sally takes an instant hatred of Ted, because she's a bottomhole.  She immediately imposes a new rule: all of Ted's data goes to her, alone, and she will deal with it, nobody else gets a look in.

     The along comes a planned restructure at Health Organisation Incorporate (because upper management have to justify their jobs and salaries) where there are going to be lots of redundancies.  Sally calls Ted in for 'a little chat' and informs him that she's not opened any of his data reports for the past year, so he's clearly useless and is going to be fired - O sorry, 'be made redundant'.

     Cue Malicious Compliance.  Ted, with union backing, states that he won't contest his firing redundancy as long as he gets three months sick pay before his severance, which is agreed.  Health Org. Inc. agrees, BUT state he has to wipe all his records due to data protection issues and patient confidentiality.  IT arrange to delete all his files and then smash his hard drive with a hammer, just to be certain.  Art!

     They also go through HOI's e-mails and delete all of Ted's accumulated e-mails.  He is officially ghosted.

     Ted, however, was not daft.  He'd already made a copy of all his files, which he handed over to HOI's in-house audit and compliance staff.  On his last day Sally rings, saying that there's a £2 million gap in accounts according to the auditors, and could he help?

     "Sure!" says Ted.  "Ring me when I get into work tomorrow," and then rides off into the sunset, never to be seen at HOI again.

     Ooops.

     Sally was unable to find any of Ted's data, and he ignored her phone calls as he was on sick leave.  The auditors calculated that Sally's hatred of Ted, neglect and incompetence had cost HOI £2.5 million.

     Sally was promptly fired under the polite-ism 'left to look for new opportunities'.

Ted, busy not giving a fig

     She's definitely not going to be able to put HOI down as a reference.

"Tora!  Tora!  Tora!"

You know Conrad, he's never happier than when splitting hairs and being a pedant of the very best kind.  Well, I've rewatched the above film, and then went back to get pictorial evidence of some of the stuntwork involved, because parts of it seemed exceedingly dangerous.  I have about fifteen photos so this will have to be spread across several blogs, otherwise it will be the whole thing and then some.  Art!

     These aircraft are all fibreglass mock-ups, a few of which have been rigged with explosives to simulate getting blown up.  Any that move have been given a small engine to turn the propeller but are not remotely capable of flying, being either pushed by actors or via remote-control cable to the brakes.  Art!

     Take a look at this plane.  Again, it's a fibreglass mock-up with cables controlling it's movement, and a dummy in the cockpit.  It carries an explosive charge to simulate being blown up by strafing Japanese planes.

     Here's where things go wrong.  The Japanese plane doing the pretend strafe came in too low, and downdraft from the propeller wash caused the mock-up's starboard wing to lift.  Instead of rolling down the runway it swerved into the parked P-40s as seen above.  That stuntman running for his life is really running for his life.

     The pyrotechnics crew detonated the charge in the errant P-40 when they realised it had gone astray, and once again those stuntmen aren't faking it.  Fortunately it didn't hit the P-40s loaded with high explosive for a later destruction scene, or there might have been even greater mayhem.

     That's stuntman Ray Picerni lying in front of the burning wreckage, and it seems the only thing that stopped him being killed was the heavy industrial fire-extinguisher halting the wreckage.

     You can get your boots, wellingtons and flip-flops that we'll be coming back to this!

A Rather Less Frenetic Moment

Your Humble Scribe made Bigos for the first time in about six months, as my recent cooking has all been Korean or Ukrainian.  I managed to lose the original hand-written recipe, so had to copy another one down.  Nor could I get sauerkraut at the Co-Op or Lidl, so Conrad was forced to use a whole shredded cabbage.  O well.  Art!

     Just what you need on a cold winter's day like today.

"The Sea Of Sand"

The gallant band of human survivors at Mersa Martuba is getting smaller all the time.

Dominione asked where Albert and the Professor were?  He hadn’t seen them for a long time.  Were they casualties?

Nowhere near casualties, it transpired.  Albert had been practicing taxiing in the Lysander beyond the supply depot’s western perimeter, with the Professor looking on to indicate and rate his performance in terms of thumbs up, thumbs down or thumbs horizontal.

‘I think I’ve got the hang of it,’ exclaimed an excited and dusty Albert, climbing down from the cockpit and pushing a pair of goggles atop his head.  Sarah and Dominione looked on with less enthusiasm that the Professor, who scowled hugely at their lack of support.

‘We’re now down to eight people,’ said Sarah.  ‘Corporal Mickleborough died five minutes ago.’

‘Died!  What happened?’ asked Albert.  The noise and dust created by the unevenly running aircraft engine meant he missed the whole battle on the eastern edge of the depot.  ‘I see.  I see.  Sorry I missed helping,’ he said in a very muted voice after hearing the explanation.

‘We need to all be together,’ declared Dominione.  ‘For a briefing.’

Sarah translated and the two archaeologists swapped glances, only to agree.

     That Lysander is definitely an example of Chekhov's gun

Rubs Hands And Cackles

We have mentioned the Challenger 2 MBT here on a few occasions.  It is a mighty mobile metal monster that tips the scales at 75 tons in battle.  It can outrange, out-sense and outgun any Sinister or Ruffian tank on the battlefield.  Art!

     We've also occasionally mentioned the Teuton's Leopard 2, which is just as formidable as the Chally but significantly easier to maintain and supply than the Challenger 2 because so many European nations have them.  Art!

     And these battlewagons are now in Ukraine, along with 40 Teuton Marder Infantry Fighting Vehicles.  Against which the Ruffians are deploying - Art!

     Don't laugh, it might come true.  They're already using howitzers from the Second Unpleasantness in Ukraine.  Hmmmmm it definitely looks as if there is 'demilitarisation' taking place except not where Bloaty Gas Tout fondly imagined it would.