Allow Me To Elaborate A Little
"Starr Warz" (sp?) has one of the best examples ever of Brute Force, that being the Death Star, which - SPOILER ALERT! - is capable of destroying entire planets with a single burst of it's Supermassive Blaster Cannon or whatever they christen it. Art!
That, gentle readers, is how you resolve an argument Darth Vader style, because there are no comebacks, witty one-liners or eye-rolls after experiencing that.
This wouldn't be BOOJUM! if we didn't abruptly change course after an intro to the Intro like that, so allow me to whistle up Robin Prior and a continuation of his destruction of that Wehraboo fantasy, that the Teutons were ever so much better at waging war than anyone else during the Second Unpleasantness. Art!
One of these Teuton PoWs is looking forward to captivity in Canada
Ol' Rob then tackles the myth of the Allies merely using brute force instead of skill, which - again! - is a reversion to the Warrior Ethic as it happened during the siege of Troy. Three thousand years ago. Some historians who ought to know better <coughcoughJohnElliscough> seem to think that 'brute force' was somehow unfair. How dare the Allies have tens of thousands of aircraft and tanks and artillery pieces not to mention mountains of bombs and shells! If only it was a fair fight between 12 Teutons in a field and 12 Allied soldiers, then we'd see who was the better warrior -
This is ludicrous. In case you hadn't noticed, the Allies deliberately as a policy substituted metal for manpower wherever possible. The Teutons were quite happy throwing their Warriors into combat and getting them bicated, which is like decimated except five times worse. Art!
Ignore the South Canadian soldier!
Ol' Georgie was a Canadian artillery officer who went through Normandy, and he pithily remarked that, after six weeks in Normandy, even the hardest-bitten SS trooper had to be chivvied out of his trench at bayonet point to attack, because they dreaded their inevitable encounter with Allied artillery. Art!
Being all spiteful
This is HMS Warspite, unloading 15" shells on the hapless Teutons on D-Day. A single broadside from this old lady weighed 3.5 tons and the only protection from them was i) Be somewhere else when they landed, or ii) Have at least a yard of reinforced concrete covering your delicate hide. Can you imagine Winston Churchill saying to Admiral Dudley Pound "O I think we'll leave the battleships out of D-Day, not sporting old chap, don't you know!"
Then you have air power. This adds a third dimension to warfare and it's neglected at your peril. The bare statistic that the Allies had 11,590 aircraft available on the day tells you, once again, metal not men, and their loss rate was only slightly over 1%. Art!
Air supremacy, thanks to legions of giant flying mallets, meant that the Teutons could only safely move at night, for about eight hours, cutting their strategic movement ability by two-thirds.
Of course - obviously! - brute force only works if applied properly, which Ol' Rob is careful to point out. I can think of one contemporary egg-deprived army that tried to use brute force and has been failing miserably. They can hit static civilian targets no bother; but on the battlefield? Not happening. In fact more Death Tsar than Death Star -
Which is where we came in.
A Little Good News
Conrad has a certain sneaking regard for Jeremy Renner, thanks to his barely concealed distaste for Cheesy Larson on their dual interview. Art!
Yes, I cut the bottom of that quote off, as it was much too rude. But heartfelt.
As you may recall, Ol' Jezza got run over by his snowplough as he attempted to stop it from crushing his nephew. Make no mistake, this was a near-fatal accident that broke 30 of his bones and required tons of surgery. Art!
Now he's back. Good to see, although he may never manage action stuff as previously. If all you're familiar with is his stint in Marvel films as Hawkeye, try watching his excellent turn in "The Town", which is one of Ben Affleck's best moments too.
"Horsemastership"
O my goodness, you couldn't get away with language like that nowadays. It cropped up in <takes breath> "Official History Military Operations Egypt & Palestine Volume II Part II", and is quite distinct from "Horsemanship", a word that will have readers wincing at how un-PC it is. Sue me. OHMOEP is from 1937. Conrad understands that 'Horsemanship' is a term that applies to riding a horse, whereas 'Horsemastership' is all about taking care of Dobbin, not out of any kindly notion that Horses Are Cute, but rather getting the best military efficiency from a steed. Art!
Anna appears to have been a bit of a one-trick pony, because I don
ANYWAY the OH points out that horses used to campaigning in Palestine (and Trans-Jordan, and Syria, and the Lebanon) got acclimatised and accustomed to their rather harsh lifestyle, and endured conditions that rendered new remounts coming to the Middle East unfit for work. Being able to go for long periods and distances without water was one acquired ability they had. Art!
"A" Squadron of the 19th Sikh Lancers made their way to Damascus across Syria without losing a single horse, either to enemy action or thirst, hunger or accident. That, ladies, gentlemen and those unsure, is Horsemastership.
"City In The Sky"
Things are afoot both Upstairs and Downstairs.
‘Is Ace there yet?’ asked the tinny, anxious voice from the radio.
‘Not yet.’
‘I’d return to Arc One to help, Doctor Davros, if circumstances here
weren’t so grave.’
That got his attention. How could
it not!
‘How bad is it?’
‘Oh, no actions from our alien squatters – yet. But I’ve forced their hand, and they’ve
forced mine. Things are going to hot up
very soon and I’m needed down here even more than Upstairs. Nor can I be too explicit on this broadcast.’
‘Oh – eavesdroppers.’
Davy felt silly having said the word the instant it left his mouth. “Eavesdroppers”, aliens whom nobody had ever
seen, carrying out indirect actions to the detriment of humanity, like the
invisible Dev spirits of his ancestral homeland.
Ace and Terry came into the tent, looking with alarm at those stricken
and lying on their hastily made beds.
Prakasz hurried over to them.
‘Blimey! Is it catching?’ blurted
Ace. The nurse ignored her and herded
both over to Davy. Both young people
caught sight of Barclay lying, moaning and sounding very sorry for himself,
half on and half off a bed.
‘The Doctor,’ announced Davy, handing over her transceiver.
‘Ace! Are you alright? Never mind, no time to chat. I need you to intercept one of those horses
we first encountered when we arrived and give it a good punt, a right mouthful,
put it at the back of the onion-bag, in the middle of the lowest
Don't ask me, I only wrote it.
Read 'Em And Weep
All this talk of eggs becoming rare and precious in Ruffia made me recall a novel for Young Adults that I read many decades ago, entitled "The Case Of The Silver Egg". I know any readers in Ruffia itself will think this a tasteless jibe at their lack of edible ova, and - wellllll you may have a point there. Art!
Ignore the Latin! Ignore the Latin!
"We do it for a good cause" in case you were wondering. Or even if you weren't.
Finally -
Conrad has to say that he's secretly glad the weather this evening and yestereve was so dismally wet and woeful. Otherwise countless hundreds of bafunes within earshot would be letting off fireworks, which makes Edna anxious. Please note I AM STILL NOT A DOG PERSON. Mind you, those Shibas that turn up in memes mocking Harry Hamster Head are amusing. Art!
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| "An ostrich egg is THIS BIG!" |
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