On Thursday I got to put one of those X's on a ballot paper here
Call me old fashioned but every time I get the chance to declare my preference in political representation I think about the people who paid the highest price for my right to do that. This time, with another anniversary of the Normandy landings in the news, I felt a bit sad that the choices being offered to me were so tawdry (topping the list was a party that bans non 'indigenous Brits' from even being a member). I voted Labour as a tactical anti-BNP step, thinking about how National Socialism turned into Nazism. I love being able to vote. And I love these men for guaranteeing my right to do it.
I had the accidental privilege of mixing among some D-Day veterans, on holiday in Normandy 15 years ago when the 50th anniversary celebrations happened to be in full swing. One of those happy coincidences. I recall one group in particular. They were all pissed and laughing like drains. There was a beautiful glamorous French woman who must have been knocking up 70, serving them drinks outside the bar. She turned out to be a bit of a legend who lived there as a girl and remembers being liberated by the Allies. All of them were acting like flirtateous boozed up teenagers. She was loving it and they were knocking back the beers and laughing uproariously under a gloriously blue sky. I still smile when I think of them.
Pictures taken without permission from the BBC here.