My Disillusionment With the Left: War

It’s been a few months since I last posted about my disillusionment with the left wing of the political spectrum. That’s because of how my brain works. Other more post-worthy topics had entered my mind between then and now and my mind commanded me to write about those topics. So, with my mind now swept clean, I can now move onto more about my disillusionment with the left, this time in regards to war.

The brutality of WWI

First of all, I am in no way some kind of war monger. I strongly believe there are far better ways for nations to settle their differences than to have their populations killing each other. There are always alternatives unless of course there is some mad man like Hitler forcing war upon the world or your country gets invaded. Then war is necessary.

Before, I go into the meat of this post, let me give you a brief history of myself in this matter. Throughout my youth, I was enamored with the subject of war. When I was nine, George A. Custer was a hero of mine and I loved to watch films of the US Cavalry fighting the Native Americans. Of course, back then, I was ignorant of the Native American perspective, but that’s another story. During my high school years, I was a total WWII buff and I still have the Time/Life books on the subject, though I never completed the set. My love of war so to speak was a major factor in my joining the Marines right after high school. It was then, I began to see the seriousness of war and I am grateful that I never had to go into actual combat during my time of service. However, if that call had come, I was ready to do so. Hell, as a young Marine one month out of boot camp, when the Iran Hostage Crisis happened, I was ready to go to Iran and rescue the hostage single handed.

General George A Custer

The one event which really pushed me to the left and made me more anti-war was the bombing of the US Marines in Lebanon in 1983. It was the battalion I had spent three of my four years in the Corps with and many of my friends back then were coming home in body bags. This made me wonder why they were over there when they weren’t sure who they were supposed to be keeping the peace between. I began to question the necessity of blindly sending people off to risk their lives when that risk may not have been fully warranted. That, with many other contributing factors, pushed me more to the left and made me more anti-war. By 1986, I was protesting President Ronald Regan’s Contra war in Nicaragua because by then, I was of the opinion that he was so blinded by his hatred for Communism that he didn’t care what the consequences in human life were in achieving his aim.

Being much older and hopefully much wiser, I see the world through a different pair of eyes. I still don’t believe in war for war’s sake. I think the wars in the Middle East were a mistake. Here’s the ‘big but.’ If governments make that decision to take their countries to war, then those governments should let their soldiers do what they’re trained to do. One problem with these wars and Vietnam was too much restriction was put upon those fighting it. Now, I’m not saying cities should be indiscriminately bombed nor do I believe prisoners nor civilians should be indiscriminately murdered. However, if someone who works in a factory making war products risks their own life should that factory be bombed. Part of the way a war is won is taking out the enemy’s economic base as well as defeating their military on the battlefield. Let the military do it’s job. Saying that, if person or persons commit a war crime, they should be prosecuted and punished to the full extent of the law.

Here lies my disillusionment with the left in this regards. I am against the war, however, I find it appalling when those on the left “cheer” for the enemy, when they rejoice when soldiers from their own country die. To me, that’s disgusting and no matter how much the enemy could be right, there is no need to celebrate the loss of any human life. The same thing is true about giving succor to the enemy. I find it perplexing that former enemy soldiers, when tired of fighting, suddenly want to come and live in the country they were fighting against. Yes, it might have been their country of origin but going to fight for the enemy counts as defection in my book and these people are traitors and should be treated as such. The left making excuses for them doesn’t cut it with me.

After my long winded rant, here’s my disillusionment with the left in regards to war. My main point is, I might be against the war but I am not going to rejoice when people from my country die. I am not going to root for the enemy and every day the war goes on, I hope that it will end with little loss of life on either side. But if some war loving politician does decide to take their country to war, they should let the military do the job they were trained to do.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?crid=36I8I1G32U0R4&keywords=he+was+weird&qid=1556651829&s=books&sprefix=he+was+%2Cstripbooks%2C148&sr=1-1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Song Lyric Quote: Skid Row- 18 and Life

Bang bang shoot’em up, the party never ends

You can think of dying when the bottle’s your best friend.

18 and life, you got it

18 and life you know

Your crime is time and it’s 18 and life to go.

Military Exemptions

Thinking further along the lines of gun control, I had actually forgotten about another proposed solution to America’s gun problem in a post a few years back. That is how my Asperger’s mind works, that when I get hold of new information, the old information gets stored in some other compartment in my brain and it doesn’t come back til later. However, that’s another story. In that post a few years ago, I agreed with a comment from someone on the American Center Right who said that there were already enough gun laws in the US to maintain proper gun control. The problem is that these laws aren’t adequately enforced. He further stated that the best way to control guns is to adequately enforce the gun laws already in force. “Great idea,” I thought then and I still think it now. Enforcing existing gun laws will allow American citizens and lawmakers to see if more stricter laws are needed.

With all that said, I am still very much in favour of raising the age of gun ownership to twenty-one. I’m only a little slightly disappointed that no one has countered with the question, “What about those in the military? Are you saying they can have a gun because they’re under age?” Of course not and what I propose is an exemption for people in the military. That is for both gun ownership and drinking alcohol. I could go with the argument that military personnel don’t actually own their weapons, they are issued one and have to give it back when they leave the unit or the service. However, I have a better one. Serving in the US military taught me to respect and care for my rifle. In boot camp, I made the mistake of knocking over my rifle when it was stacked up. My senior drill instructor remarked, “That’s no way to treat your rifle, it’s only going to save your life one day.” Okay, it didn’t as I never went into actual combat but the reality of what the rifle could do for me hit home. I learned to care for my rifle as did my comrades in arms. It is also why if the gun ownership age is raised, an exemption should be made for serving military persons and veterans.

As for exempting servicemen and women from the twenty-one drinking age, my argument is simply this. I think of the Vietnam vets who went over there, risked their lives and gave their souls who returned home and were not allowed to drink on account of their age. To me, that was a travesty. If one is going to go risk their lives for their country, then they should be allowed to have a beer before they go. Even if there isn’t a war, it should be the same. Okay, they may not be facing bullets but could be at anytime. What about drunk drivers? you might ask. When I was leaving the service, the Marines were cracking down on drunk drivers. If a marine was caught driving over the limit on the base, it was thirty days in the brig. If they were caught out in town, it would be a page eleven entry into their service record books and possible disciplinary action. That was over thirty-five years ago so it might be even worse now. Those strict punishments would be enough to deter anyone from drink driving. That is why the minimum age for drinking for military personnel should be 18 and the minimum age for owning a gun should be seventeen, the minimum age for military service.

While this post has nothing to do with “He Was Weird,” here’s a link to it anyway.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?crid=36I8I1G32U0R4&keywords=he+was+weird&qid=1556043797&s=books&sprefix=he+was+%2Cstripbooks%2C148&sr=1-1

Song Lyric Quote:Jefferson Starship- Fading Lady Light

I’ve had desert visions when the moon is shining bright

In the end of a rainbow of promise, almost in my sight

Sat with my back against called stone, waiting for the morning light

And all the things I’ve seen in dreams have kept me up all night

Always reaching to the sky, soft hard stone

Sitting here and thinking bout all the centuries it’s known

Gotta feel that someone’s here, listening to the east wind moan

I know there’s no one here but I just don’t feel alone

Fading lady light, always here with me

Singing your song in the wind at night

You know I’ve never felt so free, you’re my reality

Don’t you fade away from me.

Protecting Our Neighbourhood- The Final Part

One evening, Philip answered a knock on his front door. He opened to find DS Wilkes and a uniformed constable. “Mr Baker, may we come in?” the detective sergeant asked politely.

“Is it about the robbery?” Phil asked opening the door wider. Stopping suddenly, he pointed out to the officers, “I was there that night, nor did I make a report of the robbery, so why do you need to talk to me?”

“We just need to ask you a few questions,” came the reply.

Phil let the officers in. They followed him to the living room, pausing while he picked up his little boy. As they entered, the two officers greeted Carly, whose bump was now extended out, noticeably showing she was pregnant. Phil bade the officers to sit down while Carly made the offer of drinks, which the guests politely declined.

DS Wilkes began, “We caught the two men who committed the burglary your friends took pictures of.”

Phil felt the excitement beginning to build as the officer continued, “But we won’t be charging them.”

His excitement instantly deflated and all Phil could muster was a meek, “Why not?”

“This is why,” DS Wilkes stated as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to Phil. It was the leaflet he had made and distributed around the estates inviting people to join his neighbourhood watch.

“It was given to me by one of the defendant’s solicitors. A few weeks before the reported crime, you and your friends posted these leaflets all around the area. It seems that you have formed some sort of vigilante group around the neighbourhood. The solicitor told me that his client has seen groups of people walking around the area like vigilantes. The fact that you formed this so-called neighbourhood watch without police consent makes the pictures you took inadmissible in court. Therefore, we have to let them off.”

Phil couldn’t believe his ears. “Do you mean that because I, along with some concerned citizens, decided to protect our estates, you can’t charge a burglar who was caught and photographed in the act?”

“I’m afraid so. If this went to court, any defence barrister would rubbish this. They would paint an even darker picture of vigilantes roaming the streets frightening people. That’s why the prosecutor won’t even touch it.”

“We’re not vigilantes!” Phil protested. “We just wanted to keep our estates safe and everything we did was according to the law.”

“Maybe so, but you can’t go around the area acting like you’re the police. If you were that concerned for your community, you should have joined the police force.

“I tried to,” Phil explained, “But I never got past the application stage.”

DS Wilkes shrugged sympathetically, “Well that’s too bad, you might have made a good policeman. But that’s not the point. We can’t have gangs of citizens roaming the streets like vigilantes, no matter how well intentioned they are. I have been instructed by my superiors to tell you that you must disband your group. If you fail to comply, you could be charged with perverting the course of justice and taking the law into your own hands.”

Phillip fought back his inclination to say, “I wouldn’t have needed to form the neighbourhood watch if the police did their jobs properly,” but he knew that would only antagonize the situation more. Therefore, he muted agreed to comply with the police’s demand. However, the shock of the entire visit remained with him long after the two officers left.

Phil called an meeting of the neighbourhood watch a few days later and announced that the group was being disbanded. When asked why, he plainly told them about the visit he had from the police. The vast majority of the group were just as shocked as he had been.

“That’s typical!” Christian ranted. “We come up with a way to keep our estates safe and the cops say we can’t do it. I say we ignore them and carry on anyway.” There were several comments in agreement with him.

“That’s because if the police allow us to continue, then they’re admitting that they can’t do their jobs properly,” Martin pointed out.

“Well, they can’t,” Christian fumed. “We know that from what we saw and what happened to Gurpreet.

Christian’s rant revealed that Gurpreet was absent. No one could figure out why and it wasn’t like him. Nevertheless, the announcement was made, the meeting concluded and the group headed down to the bar for a farewell drink.

After an hour or more of drowning their sorrows, the flow of alcohol was numbing the sting of Phil’s announcement. It was then, their absent friend Gurpreet turned up.

Putting his arm around his mate, Troy slurred, “Come join us for a farewell drink.”

Seeing Gurpreet’s bewilderment, Troy further clarified, “The cops have said we have to break up our neighbourhood watch and they’ll arrest us if we don’t.”

Throwing up his hands in disgust, Gurpreet sarcastically chimed, “That makes sense. The reason why I’m late is because my uncle’s shop was broken into last night. Whoever did it cleaned out all the booze and cigarettes and left the place looking like a tip. My uncle called the police and like with me, they told my uncle he has to wait until tomorrow before they can send someone around, which means the shop will have to be closed until then,”

“That wouldn’t have happened if we had been out there,” Philip offered in sympathy.

Gurpreet smiled a weak smile, “No it wouldn’t.”

Protecting Our Neighbourhood- Part 5

Two days later, with over a dozen photographs in hand, Gurpreet and Christian, along with Phil, strode into the local police station. Phil was especially proud of his team’s actions and wanted to be there when they reported the crime to the police. Feeling a great sense of pride, the trio approached the reception desk where Christian informed the attending officer, “We’re here about the burglary I reported two nights ago, the one on St. Stephens Street.”

Looking very confused, the officer told them to wait before disappearing. So they waited and waited for about 45 minutes before another officer, this one in plain clothes, returned. Apologetically, he explained, “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long but it took us a while to find your report of the burglary. The person whose house you say was broken into did make a report so we had to make sure yours and his was the same thing. Now, which one of you made the call?”

Christian put up his hand while at the same time saying, “I did.”

The officer, a tall white man in his mid-thirties, identified himself as DS Wilkes before beckoning them to follow him. The detective sergeant led them to a small interview room and asked them to sit down.

“Do you have something to add about the burglary?” he asked

“We have these,” Gurpreet responded with great glee as he laid the photos before the sergeant.

DS Wilkes was speechless! His jaw dropped as he studied each photograph very intently with his mouth agape. Meanwhile, the three friends fidgeted in their chairs with nervous excitement and when the DS did speak several minutes later, he asked, “How did you get these?”

Taking the lead, Christian relayed that night’s events. “I was walking down St. Stephens Street around half past eleven the other night with my friend Nikita who couldn’t be here today, when we saw this figure run between the houses. A minute later, we heard noise like glass breaking, that was when I dialed 999 and asked for you lot. We decided to hang around just in case, when Gurpreet here and his friend Martin, who also can’t be here today. That was when this white van pulled up and we saw the driver get out and together with the first guy, started putting things in the back of the van. That was when we thought we should take these pictures.”

Still taking in the enormity of what Christian had told him, DS Wilkes asked, “When did you take the photos of the broken window?”

“We hung around for an hour waiting for you to turn up and when you didn’t, I decided to go between the houses and that’s when I saw the broken window. So I took a picture of it.”

“I see,” was all the police officer could muster. Then, turning to Phil, he asked, “What was your role in all of this? Were you there?”

“No, no,” Phil admitted, “I am just here to give my friends moral support.”

“Oh,” DS Wilkes simply nodded. Looking at Christian and Gurpreet, he stated, “From what I see here, you two would make good policemen.”

The three men all laughed, all the while, Phil was thinking, “Could I quote that on an application form?” The sergeant continued, “We will take this photographs and conduct our investigation. However, we may need you to testify in court. Are you both willing to do that?”

“Oh yeah!” Christian declared with his usual self assuredness.

“Absolutely,” came Gurpreet’s reply.

“What about the other two you say were with you? Would they be willing to testify?”

“I’m sure they will, “Christian stated with the same bold assuredness.

“Then, that’s all we need for now. We’ll be in touch once we’ve concluded our investigation.”

An air of confidence and accomplishment filled not only Christian and Gurpreet’s team but the other two teams as well. The knowledge of having brought two burglars to justice proved to them that the neighbourhood patrols were making a difference in keeping their estates safe from crime. Some of the members found it nigh impossible not to let the who affair go to their heads as they swaggered around the estates. Their confidence was further bolstered by the fact there seemed to be no more crimes committed during the four weeks following. Philip and his group truly believed that they were making a positive difference.

Twenty Years Since Columbine and Little Has Changed

Columbine Shooting-

This week marks the twentieth anniversary of the Columbine High School shooting and like it says in the title, not much has changed in regards to what happened on April 20, 1999. School shootings still occur and there has been little in the way of gun laws. Don’t get me wrong, I am not anti- guns, even if I was, I am realistic enough to know that the Second Amendment will never be repealed and Americans will still own guns. However, I am in favour of stricter gun laws.

My biggest concern and as an American living in the UK, I am a little embarrassed by this, is that the young man who carried out the school shooting in Parkland, Florida last year was old enough to buy an assault rife but wasn’t old enough to buy a beer. In the weeks following Parkland, I pointed out the fact that in the early 1980s, politicians at all levels of government were quick to use drunk driving offenses among the youth as a reason to raise the drinking age to 21. Surely, school shootings are enough of a justification to raise the age of gun ownership to the same. A twenty-one year old is more likely to be more responsible with guns than and eighteen year old. I know that simply raising the gun ownership age won’t completely solve the problem but it’s a damn good place to start.

While the gun debate goes on, what Columbine did was act as a guideline for school security, used as an excuse to profile and target so-called “weirdos” and outcasts and unfortunately, used as a model for future school shootings. Fact mingled with myth on what happened at Columbine and what might have caused it has been in the psyche of Americans for the past two decades.

Another contribution made by the shooting and other school shootings was that it enriched the literary world.  School shootings has become a sub-genre of books with at least 51 books written about it. My own book, “He Was Weird,” is included among them. However, I don’t class my book as a book about a school shooting, I say it’s about a boy with mental health issues, namely Asperger’s Syndrome, who gets bullied on account of those issues and uses the school shooting to get his revenge.

One reader has fed back that the chapter where the school shooting occurs was taken right from the Columbine shooting. If this was the case, then it was purely accidental. I purposely avoided reading anything about Columbine so I wouldn’t be accused of copying it.  Major differences I will point out is that in “He Was Weird,” my shooter doesn’t use any explosive devices. Columbine was a successful shooting because it was a failed bombing attempt. When writing my story, I thought about having a teacher get shot but I dismissed it on account of accusations of copying the famous real life shooting. One more big difference is that my shooting occurs on the playground while the other shooters went into the school to carry out their massacre.

If anything, resemblances to Columbine occur after the shooting. Following that shooting, there were two sets of parents whose daughters were killed on that fateful day, who went on tour of religious festivals pimping their daughters’ tragic story that it was their daughter who said she believed in Jesus right before she got shot. However, an investigation showed that the girl who actually said that survived the shooting and decided not to use it as a cash cow for God Incorporated. After the “He Was Weird” shooting, there is a similar story involving a set of rosary beads. Then there is the NRA convention one month later. A similar event occurred in Denver soon after Columbine.

While I have done very little research on the 1997 school shooting in West Peducah, Kentucky, there is some altered events from that shooting which appear in my book. Before the shooting, my main character is branded gay in the school newspaper just like that shooter and after, there are lawsuits aplenty with someone trying to sue Microsoft because they claim that because the shooter played games like Age of Empires, they influenced him to carry out his shooting.

Many books might have been written about school shootings both fact and fiction but that doesn’t change the fact that they occur too often in America and now they are happening more in other countries, even if the UK media chooses to ignore the latter fact. However, the one thing which will play in the back of my mind when I hear or read about a school shooting is, “This could have been me.” The components of what can drive a kid to carry out such a thing were present. The bullying, being labeled as a homo, made an outcast, these were all there during those three years of hell. Fortunately, two main things weren’t. I had absolutely no access to guns and when I was experiencing this pain, school shootings weren’t yet a problem because they were still more than two decades away from hitting middle class white suburbia. Therefore, the thought of shooting up my school hadn’t entered into my head because in America, that’s when something truly becomes a problem. Still, twenty years has gone by since Columbine and no real progress has been made. I hope it doesn’t take another twenty before anything changes.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?crid=36I8I1G32U0R4&keywords=he+was+weird&qid=1555352645&s=books&sprefix=he+was+%2Cstripbooks%2C148&sr=1-1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Protecting Our Neighbourhood- Part 4

Starry eyed ideas about busting major criminal gangs disappeared rapidly over the first three weeks. Except for seeing a gang of about twelve youths hanging around the estate doing nothing more than smoking cigarettes one night, the nights of patrolling were extremely quiet. To keep his troops motivated, Philip pointed out that it might be down to their presence proving to be a good deterrent. More fortune came in the form of three new eager recruits. That was good because it lessened the workload for the rest of the group. It seemed the plan was working well.

Late one evening, while out on patrol, Christian and his slender, blonde partner, Nikita, spied a shadowy figure running between some houses near the estate. Staying at a safe distance, the pair watched and strained their ears to find out what might happen next. Hearing what sounded like glass breaking, Christian dialed 999 while Nikita phoned the other pair requesting back up.

“Emergency services, which service do you require?” asked a female voice on the other end of Christian’s phone.

“Police,” Christian replied, fighting to keep the adrenaline down.

Thirty seconds later, a male voice came on the line, “Police, how may we help?”

“I’d like to report a break-in in progress.”

“When you say, ‘in progress,’ do you mean it’s happening right now” the man questioned.

“Yes, right now,” Christian breathed back heavily. “We saw someone run in between some houses then heard a window breaking.”

“And where is this alleged break-in taking place?”

“St. Stephens Street, in Bow, near the Sandall House,” Christian happily informed and giving himself a salute for feeling proud of himself for being able to give the information.

“Okay, we’ll see if we can send someone around.” The monotone voice did little to instill Christian with confidence.

Gurpreet and Martin couldn’t have arrived at a better time. Together, the four of them waited with mobile phone cameras at the ready. Seconds later, a white van with no other distinguishable markings pulled up and stopped outside one of the houses the shadowy figure was seen running between. A skinny man, who looked about five feet ten and wore dark clothing, got out and went around and open the van’s back door. At the same time, another man, probably the first figure, appeared from between the same houses carrying what looked like a television set and loaded it into the back of the van. The driver then joined his companion in loading other treasures taken from the house, all the while, unaware that there were four witnesses nearby taking photos of them. Otherwise, they would have covered up their faces, which were clear to see. Both men were white, the burglar had a triangular face with a long pointed nose while the driver’s face looked flatter with large round eyes. The group had all the evidence they needed.

No one on the teams was surprised that the police never turned up to answer Christian’s call. The two teams took it in turns to go past the burgled house but the rest of the night was uneventful. Right before the shift ended at 2 AM, Christian got an idea to venture onto the targeted property and look for clues. While the dark of the night prevented him from seeing much, he was able to spot the broken window where the burglar got it. He simply took a few photos and left. He and his team were satisfied that justice was going to be served.

I Shouldn’t Think About This Because It Makes My Head Spin

Unless you have been living under a rock these past few months, there has been a lot in the news about Islamic State fighters and jihadi brides wanting to return to their countries of origin. In the UK, the biggest news story was that of Shemima Begum who then 15, fled with three friends from London, went to Syria and married a IS fighter. Four years on, with IS militarily defeated and having had two babies who died while living in the Islamic State and a third baby who died in a refugee camp, she wants to return to the UK. This has sparked much debate here in the country as to whether she should be allowed to return and if the government was right in stripping Shemima of her British citizenship.

Shemima Begum

Here’s the thing with my mind. Due to my Asperger’s it takes a long time for something to be processed in my mind before I can come to a decision about it. Normally, this is because so many other things in my head are also vying for my attention so usually, this new thought has to wait its turn. This is the main reason why weeks after her story has ceased being the major news story, I am finally coming around to forming an opinion on the matter. Now, some of you are probably saying, “Just don’t think about it.” For me, that’s easier said than done. The idea has entered my mind and must be processed. That’s typical for many people with Asperger’s, you may not want or need to think about something but your mind is telling you that you must, so here it is.

My left of centre political base does pull on my coat tails and tell me that she should be allowed to return to Britain and shown compassion. At least, her baby would have not died in the refugee camp if she had. It also tells me that she made a mistake and was simply swept up by the romantic notion of being a jihadi bride. Although it doesn’t seem to appear in her case, I wouldn’t discount the argument by some that racism in Britain influenced her to join IS. These were all the things my leftie mind is telling me.

Here’s the other side of my thoughts and it involves me passion for history. Imagine if this was 80 years ago and a  fifteen year old white British girl with German heritage answered Hitler’s call for all true Aryans to return to the Fatherland. For argument’s sake, say she married an SS officer who served at Auschwitz and played a part in the atrocities committed there. It’s now 1945 and Nazi Germany has been defeated and this young woman now wants to return to Britain saying that she made a mistake and that her baby died as a result of the chronic food shortages the German people faced back then. Would she have been allowed to return to the UK? Or would she have been seen as a traitor to her country and treated as such?

I am already anticipating the argument that times have changed since World War 2. I appreciate that people are more liberal minded than they were back then. However, I also agree that it was down to the sacrifices made in that war which allows people to be that way. The main thought is that Shemima Begum turned her back on her country and joined a group who sees Britain as the enemy. I don’t think the woman in my hypothetical would have been allowed to return to Britain and if she was, would have been made to spend a long time in prison hopefully to reflect on her youthful folly. The same should apply in the present day case.

My fear of being called a hypocrite is now circling above so I feel I must add my own personal history to it. See, in the mid 1980s, I openly declared that I hated my country. I felt that after giving America the four best years of my life, that I only got crap in return. The final straw in my eyes was when the Veteran’s Administration said they weren’t going to finance my study in England because my course was not approved. Therefore, I stated that I didn’t want to go back to America. However, my sights were not set on going to a country that was considered an enemy. Instead, they were on neutral Sweden. After all, they hadn’t fought a war in over 200 years so they must be doing something right and back then, people sited Sweden as the one country where socialism had actually worked. The difference between Shemima Begum and me here was that I simply wanted out of my country, I had no desire to fight against it or have anything to do with people who would. It was the quiet life for me. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe she should be sent to a neutral country like Sweden or Switzerland. This is just speculation by the way and not my actual solution to the problem.

A further argument would be, “What if it was one of my own children?” That would be a totally different kettle of fish and it would have sent my mind spinning. Knowing me, I would have taken it personally and possibly put it down as my failings as a father. Then the next day, I would have put it down to radicalization and I can’t say how I would have reacted if it were my own. At least if my child had returned to Britain and faced the consequences of those actions, I could have at least had contact with them so I would have been able to judge better as to what to do next. I would have at least liked the chance to speak to them face to face so I can know the why behind it because it is different when it’s your own. That begs another question, while Shemima’s family are fighting for her to return to the UK and I don’t blame them, have they tried to go out and visit her? I might have done that if it were mine to get a feel of their mindset and have a better idea as to what to do next.

Yes, I’ve probably come across as wishy-washy but that’s the problem when you have Asperger’s Syndrome. All the variables come into play and it plays havoc with the mind. What I hope for in Shemima’s case is a solution that benefits all involved.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?crid=36I8I1G32U0R4&keywords=he+was+weird&qid=1554802922&s=books&sprefix=he+was+%2Cstripbooks%2C148&sr=1-1

 

 

 

 

Protecting Our Neighbourhood- Part 3

Organizing the patrols around the lives of thirteen people wasn’t as easy as Phil first thought, especially as most of them had real jobs to go to. Furthermore, the eagerness of the first meeting was beginning to fade away as one person dropped out. Two others were adamant that they weren’t going to patrol on weekends, thus adding further complications. Though it took a lot of effort on his part, when the group met again a week later, Phil was convinced he had a workable plan.

“My idea is that we have three teams of four,” he announced when to those in attendance. Each team will be split into two pairs and patrol different parts of the estate, paying close attention to areas we know to have been hit by crime. The two pairs should be in constant contact with each other to add to additional safety. If one pair sees anythings suspicious, they are to observe from a safe distance and if they see a crime being committed or has been committed, they should phone the police right away and if necessary, phone the other pair for back up.”

He produced a large map of the local area which, with assistance from Troy, blu-tacked to a wall behind him.”This is the area we will be dealing with the most,” he explained. “That doesn’t mean if you see something outside of this area, you do nothing. Still, observe and report it. Also, if you’re hungry, get something to eat as long as it’s one pair at a time. Seven til two is a long time to go without food. Besides, our presence around the local shops might be a good thing.”

“Can we choose our teams or have you already done that?” inquired a short, muscular African man who Christian knew from his days of playing American football and was sitting in the front row.

Philip replied, “I have made the teams according to availability but it’s up to you to decide who you want to pair off with in your team.”

The man seemed satisfied with the explanation.

Not wanting to bore the assembly any further, Philip rushed the details of how the patrols should go. One pair was to walk around the Wilmer Estate and the other the Sandall Estate, keeping in view on the tower blocks of the estates as well as the surrounding houses. They should also patrol the streets leading up to the estates from the Roman Road. He also emphasised that the two pairs should contact one another at least once an hour and meet up two or three times during their patrol, thus ensuring greater safety.

“So far, so good,” Philip thought to himself at this point of the presentation. Now came the part he was really worried about, the naming of the teams. “I’ll be leading team one which consists of Jacob, Tariq and Tom. Troy will lead the second team with Lashay, Sam and Gurdev. Gurpreet will lead the third team with Christian, Martin and Nikita.”

He paused for comments about the assigned groupings but none came forth. Everyone seemed to be okay with it. Satisfied, he suggested, “Let’s go down to the bar, the team leaders will be buying the first round for their teams.” As the procession filed down stairs to celebrate, it looked as if the neighbourhood patrol was off to a good start.