Admiral of the Fleet Sir Caspar John was advanced to
Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath in 1960 and served
as First Sea Lord from 1960 until his retirement in 1963. Mention his name to any Royal Naval officer,
however, and it will evoke the memory of soporific sessions in the theatre and
lecture hall at Britannia Royal Naval College named in his memory. Caspar John
Hall was normally referred to as CJH, or for tired trainees grabbing an opportunistic
forty winks, the Zed Shed. (The lights go down and two-hundred sleepy heads begin
to nod... it’s almost like a drill.)
Meanwhile, today in Slough a military-style airborne endeavour has
been in operation for some time to root out its disproportionate share of literal
zed sheds. On Nick Ferrari’s morning radio show this ongoing story produced
plenty of angry responses. People sleeping in sheds is a long-term problem in Slough as in many places elsewhere
in the UK with exploitation of hordes of often unregistered and uncounted
denizens. This sort of barbarous arrangement is so far removed from traditional,
civilised, British behaviour that it must surely be illegal to draw attention
to it.
So, bollocks to that. The people of Slough have been
aware of literally thousands of illegal and/or exploited immigrants, living in
secret and in a squalor that probably reminds them of home. These people
contribute nothing to British society yet place an enormous burden on services
for which others pay. But years of reporting such alien transgressions by
people with unacceptable and repulsive white skin has been met by a system that
strenuously denies there is a problem. Back in the cold war days, Americans
used to refer to reds under the bed. Now here in Britain we have the reds
encouraging beds in sheds.
There is an entire industry devoted to denying the
problems that multiculturalism has brought to these shores, formerly so
robustly defended by Caspar John and his Jolly Tars. Were it possible, Hearts
of Oak would be breaking asunder in their watery graves. Whatever happened to
our identity and our collective security? How have we become so low that we
dare not prosecute our own laws for anxious fear of offending people who have
no such compunction in our direction?
"Come friendly bombs and rain on Slough"
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