Let me get this straight, it's 1914. Arch Duke somebody or other gets shot in Sarra-******-Yavo… And Austro-Hungary declares a war on Serbia? So? We, within no time… and in the blink of an eye, the whole bleedin' world goes to war!..Why?
I had a great Uncle. He WAS great! A proud Yorkhireman, by chance, gets blown to bits in a trench on Boxing day, in France! Just a day after watching a sodding football match... Our lads against the bleeding Germans in No Man’s Land… No way!? Yeh? Yeh! On Christmas effing Day?
Am I going out of my mind?
“But, there’s worse to come… “the ****** Germans won 2-1…!”
And get this, right… where I live now, the great and the good played a hunch…back then. “I know we’ll give our fighting boys a send off. A slap up lunch!!… So the Mayor, Civic Officers and Councillors waited on the squaddies’ tables. To gee them up. And so it did! “Good Luck” bellowed the bulbs outside the Kursaal Dome… After the Brown Windsor, the Mutton and Plum Duff and, as if the ignominy of the call to arms, wasn't quite enough... it wouldn't just get tough it became obvious; downright plain, that many of those worthy Worthing men wouldn’t be coming home again.