Just back from one of the best holidays ever, to the UK visiting my homeland, family friends including one or two old classmates. people who I have known for almost 40 years.
As you get a little older, some things start to mean more to you than perhaps they did earlier in life. Rather than focus on the career, the car, the new house and other material things, I find myself these days, appreciating the memorable experiences in life, much much more.
To put it in perspective, let me first talk about how I fulfilled an ambition, that I have held since I was about 14. Always a keen student of History,I wondered what it would be like to see the places and experience a little of what our heroes from World War One and Two, did, how they fought against tyranny and gave their lives for us.
That was special, more about that later, but first I want to talk about friendship and bonds with people. Someone once said to me that if you can count three real friends in your life you are very, very fortunate. If that is the yardstick, then I would consider myself richer than Donald Trump and Rupert Murdoch put together.
Not Facebook, where the one with 5,000 Friends (some of whom have never met) on Facebook wins, it is about the quality of the people you hold dear. Real friends, people who know every thing they possibly could about you, and still like you, even when they probably shouldn’t.
People who may not be around all the time, but when they are, they are never any different. They don’t care about what you do, how wealthy you are, or what your share portfolio is like. All they want to know is, are you the same person that they always knew. Nothing else matters to them.
What has this got to do with anything you may ask? Well a lot really, you see, I have like most of us been striving hard to achieve results, more leads, more sales, more money. All very important stuff and something we must never ever sway away from, a life without purpose isn’t very fulfilling. But, at the end of the day, what is it that matters the most?
What is it that gives us the most satisfaction? Sure material things do matter, but only if they can lead us to real happiness. If not it all counts for nothing. The moments we experience with the people we care most about, are the things that no one can ever take away from us and these are priceless.
I have memories of over 30 years, reliving some of the hell raising, yet harmless antics we got up to, and I can replay those moments in my mind over and over and still laugh, even more than when they were happening. Yes, they were wonderful days, and we are all mightily grateful for them
See the following two photos, one from 1981 at TOTS nightclub in Southend, the other taken on January 5th this year at the Crumpled Horn pub Upminster. Same people, same pose left to right Tony, Bill, Pete and me on the right, yes the one with the curly hair!!!!! The fact that we are still such great friends 30-40 years later, will tell you a little about the values and principals of myself and the people I choose to call friends.
In this particular photo, there was just the four of us, however there are enough photos taken 30 years ago, with over a dozen faces that would still be around for a follow up shot today. Ok it might mean a quick trip back to Blighty once again, but you get my drift.
Now back to my earlier comment and the pilgrimage to the battlefields of both World Wars. Visiting the towns of Amiens, Albert, Pozières Beaumont Hamel, Thiepval, Villers-Bretonneux was spine chilling. Pozières was a strong Aussie foothold, and the village actually remembers and pays tribute to our lads with the “Aussie Digger Hotel” We walked in expecting to see a coachload of Aussies singing “The Road to Gundagai” but know just a couple of locals and a French barmaid who couldn’t speak a word of English. I overcame that with my “Delboy” spreckensie Francais “Excusem moi madam, Est que vous deux pints a la Gervray Chambretam, Si’l Vous Plait. Mange Tu, Mange Tu. She gave us two cokes.
My focus was the Battle of the Somme and the 1st day, July 1 1916. The memorial of the 1st Newfoundland Regiment at Beaumont Hamel, has a beautifully preserved trench network, where you can walk through to the frontline and the Hawthorn Ridge crater. This was the underground explosion that the British set off underneath the German lines, to kick off the battle, Beaumont Hamel, close to where the Battle of the Somme began, hoping it would lead to a quick and decisive victory. Not a chance.
Just looking at the fields of battle was moving enough for me. Of course they look beautiful and peaceful now, but there was a time where these muddy, charred paddocks were full of men charging with bayonets, going over the top, doing it for “King and Country”. legendary cliches like “Fritz don’t like it up em chaps” those wonderful morale boosting songs like “It’s a long way to Tipperary” Pack up your Troubles” etc.
It was bad enough that the men were having to sleep in waterlogged rat infested trenches, no food, no warmth, and constant shelling, that they had to face the thought of first thing in the morning climbing out of the trench knowing you would almost certainly be shot by an enemy gun.
The 1st Newfoundland Regiment at Beaumont Hamel was almost entirely wiped out. Out of 801 men, only 68 made it to roll call the next morning. Over 500 were dead.
When I watch some of the old newsreels I am still amazed how they remained so seemingly cheerful and calm about it. All of them had to be shitting themselves, but the biggest concern for some of the men, was the thought of letting their mates down. Unbelievable…
Is it a morbid fascination that I have? It sure ain’t bravery, because the thought of going within 50 miles of the trenches to sample what they went through, would scare me to death. I couldn’t do it, and I cannot fathom how they did it. Even today 96 years after the Battle of the Somme, -which is no time really- I fail to see how the super powers of Europe could contrive to create an almighty scene of chaos and living hell for such meaningless purpose. Oh my, how cheap was life considered back then.
Field Marshall Douglas Haig, was a fine upstanding aristocratic Scot, who apparently thought 40,000 casualties on the first day of the battle could not be considered severe, given the enormity of the attack. Later that day someone would have had to break the news to Dougie that it was in fact 60,000 men that had perished. I wonder how he reacted to that, a touch of indifference I expect?
I guess it’s easy to attack Haig and his contemporaries and accuse them of incompetence, but on the other hand, back then it was different era and expectations on a different planet. What we today call barbaric and cruel , was then deemed acceptable. Haig was merely doing what he’d been brought up to do, and he believed he was right. Whatever your view, I still fail to see why General Haig, is immortalised with a memorial in his honour at Westminster.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I wonder if in 1914 the leaders of these great Empires, could have fast forwarded to 1918, would they have spared us the carnage, and said, “forget it lads not worth falling out over dead monarch is it?
We finished up at the Australian War Memorial in Villers-Bretonneux, where the 4th & 5th Division of the Australian Imperial Force held up the German advance and recaptured the town in April 1918. It came at a cost of over 1,200 Australian lives. Enormously sad to read some of the headstones which indicated some of the men had died in December 1918, weeks after the end of the war. You would assume many died of wounds received weeks earlier, but I also wondered how many could have been taken out by German snipers who possibly didn’t know about the Armistice.
After a couple of days on the Somme we travelled north to Normandy, and followed the trail of the D-Day Invasion on June 6 1944. First stop, Bénouville Bridge (later named Pegasus Bridge after the emblem of Howards unit) near to the ancient city of Caen. In the early hours of June 6, Major John Howard led a team of British soldiers into battle with a battalion of Germans defending the bridge. An important strategic point for both sides as it linked up with the British landing at nearby Sword Beach. Anyway the team of British Commanders glided in, landed feet away from the bridge, attacked, took it and held it against strong German counter-attack for several hours until finally relieved.
We stayed overnight just up the road, in the coastal town of Ouistreham, and had some fantastic mussels for dinner. Then set off next morning visiting Sword Beach, Omaha Beach and Utah Beach. Omaha, was of course the most moving. Anyone who saw Saving Private Ryan, can relate to what I’m saying. Looking down on the beach from the German vantage points where their defences lay, gave a strong indication of how tough this would have been for our American cousins, who landed there that morning. What a nightmare. Utah and Sword seemed tame in comparison, but you still wouldn’t have got me there for quids.
We finished off at the old town of Sainte-Mere Eglisé, where some of the 81st and 101st Airborne landed the night before the invasion, only to be cut down by German machine guns. There was a great and famous story of a Paratrouper called John Steele who’s parachute got stuck on the belfry of the town’s church. He lived to tell the tale, amazing.
Driving into these towns with Vanessa in her Mazda convertible was a highlight. Although it was early January, the mild weather was conducive to taking the rooftop down, and a blast of her CD featuring classic songs, Jerusalem and Abide with Me ‘ were very appropriate in allowing us to pay our respects to so many heroes. Truly, truly amazing experience and life changing.
The experience of just treading the same ground as these men, has changed my perspective on life somewhat, and has made me feel a little more grateful. How could it not? Makes our lives today seem insane when compared to theirs. We take it for granted, we complain about getting up, going to work, fighting the traffic and all. Those poor lads didn’t have a choice, with their whole lives in front of them, they sacrificed them. Sometimes I think the universe delivers us messages designed to have us rethink our priorities, and inspire us beyond belief. This experience was a great leveller for me, and one I hope stays long my thoughts. Lest we forget
Anyway, cheers and my thanks to everyone back in my country of birth who helped make the trip the most memorable one ever. I have come away with a most amazing sense of gratitude and inner peace.
Just back from one of the best holidays ever, to Europe visiting my homeland, family, friends in the UK including one or two old classmates. people who I have known for almost 40 years. Also crossed the channel on two occasions to spend a few days in Belgium and France.
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As you get a little older, some things start to mean more to you than perhaps they did earlier in life. Rather than focus on the career, the car, the new house and other material things, I find myself these days, appreciating the memorable experiences in life, much much more. -
To put it in perspective, let me first talk about how I fulfilled an ambition, that I have held since I was about 14. Always a keen student of History, I wondered what it would be like to see the places and experience a little of what our heroes from World War One and Two, did, how they fought against tyranny and gave their lives for us.
-
That was special, but more about that later, first I want to talk about friendship and bonds with people. Someone once said to me that if you can count three real friends in your life you are very, very fortunate. If that is the yardstick, then I would consider myself richer than Donald Trump and Rupert Murdoch put together.
-
Not Facebook, where the one with 5,000 Friends (some of whom have never met) on Facebook wins, it is about the quality of the people you hold dear. Real friends, people who know every thing they possibly could about you, and still like you, even when they probably shouldn’t.
-
People who may not be around all the time, but when they are, they are never any different. They don’t care about what you do, how wealthy you are, or what your share portfolio is like. All they want to know is, are you the same person that they always knew. Nothing else matters to them.
What has this got to do with anything you may ask? Well a lot really, you see, I have like most of us been striving hard to achieve results, more leads, more sales, more money. All very important stuff and something we must never ever sway away from, a life without purpose isn’t very fulfilling. But, at the end of the day, what is it that matters the most?
-
What is it that gives us the most satisfaction? Sure material things do matter, but only if they can lead us to real happiness. If not it all counts for nothing. The moments we experience with the people we care most about, are the things that no one can ever take away from us and these are priceless.
-
I have memories of over 30 years, reliving some of the hell raising, yet harmless antics we got up to, and I can replay those moments in my mind over and over and still laugh, even more than when they were happening. Yes, they were wonderful days, and we are all mightily grateful for them.
--
See the following two photos, one from 1981 at TOTS nightclub in Southend, the other taken on January 5th this year at the Crumpled Horn pub Upminster. Same people, same pose left to right Tony, Bill, Pete and me on the right, yes the one with the curly hair!!!!! The fact that we are still such great friends 30-40 years later, will tell you a little about the values and principals of myself and the people I choose to call friends.


In this particular photo, there was just the four of us, however there are enough photos taken 30 years ago, with over a dozen faces that would still be around for a follow up shot today. Ok it might mean a quick trip back to Blighty once again, but you get my drift.
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Also got to see the Hammers play up at Pride Park in Derby on New Years Eve. Met up with my old school mate Phil now living in Warwickshire the night before for a couple of beers, then went to the game next morning in time for the lunchtime kick-off.
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Not a bad game, but, unfortunately not a great result, West Ham were 2-0 down within 10 minutes and although they got one back before half-time, they were disappointing. The “boot it up in the air to no one in particular’ style of play, they have adopted under Big Sam Allardyce, is not in keeping with the old West Ham tradition, of attractive, flowing football. But then Sam’s job is to get them back in Prem, no matter what, so he has to do whatever it takes. All said and done, this approach must be kind of working. They are currently in the top two, despite that loss. Signs are good that they will be back in the top flight soon.
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In Bruges
Straight after New Year, my mate Glenn arranged a two day trip to the Belgian city of Bruges. which needless to say involved a tour of the beer museum and the sampling one or two of Belgium’s finest beers.
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Was an achievement to even get to Bruges. Following a very long lunch on New Years Day, we had a drive against the clock to reach the 8am ferry from Dover to Dunkirque, but we made it, even though Glenn decided to add another lane to the M25 on the way.
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Treading the ground of war and terror
Now back to my earlier comment and the pilgrimage to the battlefields of both World Wars. Visiting the towns of Amiens, Albert, Pozières Beaumont Hamel, Thiepval, Villers-Bretonneux was spine chilling. Pozières was a strong Aussie foothold, and the village actually remembers and pays tribute to our lads with the “Aussie Digger Hotel”
We walked in expecting to see a coachload of Aussies singing “The Road to Gundagai” but know just a couple of locals and a French barmaid who couldn’t speak a word of English. I overcame that with my “Delboy” spreckensie Francais “Excusem moi madam, Est que vous deux pints a la Gervray Chambretam, Si’l Vous Plait. Mange Tu, Mange Tu. She gave us two cokes.
-
Our focus was the Battle of the Somme and the 1st day, July 1 1916. The memorial of the 1st Newfoundland Regiment at Beaumont Hamel, has a beautifully preserved trench network, where you can walk through to the frontline and the Hawthorn Ridge crater. This was the underground explosion that the British set off underneath the German lines, to kick off the battle at Beaumont Hamel, close to where the Battle of the Somme began, hoping it would lead to a quick and decisive victory. Not a chance.
Just looking at the fields of battle was moving enough for me. Of course they look beautiful and peaceful now, but there was a time where these muddy, charred paddocks were full of men charging with bayonets, going over the top, doing it for “King and Country”. legendary cliches like “Fritz don’t like it up em chaps” those wonderful morale boosting songs like “It’s a long way to Tipperary” Pack up your Troubles” etc.
It was bad enough that the men were having to sleep in waterlogged rat infested trenches, no food, no warmth, and constant shelling, that they had to face the thought of first thing in the morning climbing out of the trench knowing they would almost certainly be shot by an enemy gun.
-
The 1st Newfoundland Regiment at Beaumont Hamel was almost entirely wiped out. Out of 801 men, only 68 made it to roll call the next morning. Over 500 were dead.
-
When I watch some of the old newsreels I am still amazed how they remained so seemingly cheerful and calm about it. All of them had to be shitting themselves, but the biggest concern for some of the men, was the thought of letting their mates down. Unbelievable…
-
Is it a morbid fascination that I have? It sure ain’t bravery, because the thought of going within 50 miles of the trenches to sample what they went through, would scare me to death. I couldn’t do it, and I cannot fathom how they did it. Even today 96 years after the Battle of the Somme, -which is no time really- I fail to see how the super powers of Europe could contrive to create an almighty scene of chaos and living hell for such meaningless purpose. Oh my, how cheap was life considered back then.
-
Field Marshall Douglas Haig, was a fine upstanding aristocratic Scot, who apparently thought 40,000 casualties on the first day of the battle could not be considered severe, given the enormity of the attack. Later that day someone would have had to break the news to Dougie that it was in fact 60,000 men that had perished. I wonder how he reacted to that, a touch of indifference I expect?
-
I guess it’s easy to attack Haig and his contemporaries and accuse them of incompetence, but on the other hand, back then it was different era and expectations on a different planet. What we today call barbaric and cruel , was then deemed acceptable. Haig was merely doing what he’d been brought up to do, and he believed he was right. Whatever your view, I still fail to see why General Haig, is immortalised with a memorial in his honour at Westminster.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I wonder if in 1914 the leaders of these great Empires, could have fast forwarded to 1918, would they have spared us the carnage, and said, “forget it lads not worth falling out over dead monarch is it?
-
We finished up at the Australian War Memorial in Villers-Bretonneux, where the 4th & 5th Division of the Australian Imperial Force held up the German advance and recaptured the town in April 1918. It came at a cost of over 1,200 Australian lives. Enormously sad to read some of the headstones which indicated some of the men had died in December 1918, weeks after the end of the war. You would assume many died of wounds received weeks earlier, but I also wondered how many could have been taken out by German snipers who possibly didn’t know about the Armistice.
After a couple of days on the Somme we travelled north to Normandy, and followed the trail of the D-Day Invasion on June 6 1944. First stop, Bénouville Bridge (later named Pegasus Bridge after the emblem of Howards unit) near to the ancient city of Caen. In the early hours of June 6, Major John Howard led a team of British soldiers into battle with a battalion of Germans defending the bridge. An important strategic point for both sides as it linked up with the British landing at nearby Sword Beach. Anyway the team of British Commanders glided in, landed feet away from the bridge, attacked, took it and held it against strong German counter-attack for several hours until finally relieved.
We stayed overnight just up the road, in the coastal town of Ouistreham, and had some fantastic mussels for dinner. Then set off next morning visiting Sword Beach, Omaha Beach and Utah Beach.
Omaha, was of course the most moving. Anyone who saw Saving Private Ryan, can relate to what I’m saying. Looking down on the beach from the German vantage points where their defences lay, gave a strong indication of how tough this would have been for our American cousins, who landed there that morning. What a nightmare. Utah and Sword seemed tame in comparison, but you still wouldn’t have got me there for quids.
-
We finished off at the old town of Sainte-Mere Eglisé, where some of the 81st and 101st Airborne landed the night before the invasion, only to be cut down by German machine guns. There was a great and famous story of a Paratrouper called John Steele who’s parachute got stuck on the belfry of the town’s church.
He lived to tell the tale, amazing.
-
Driving into these towns with Vanessa in her Mazda convertible was a highlight. Although it was early January, the mild weather was conducive to taking the rooftop down, and a blast of her CD featuring classic songs, Jerusalem and Abide with Me ‘ were very appropriate in allowing us to pay our respects to so many heroes. Truly, truly amazing experience and life changing.
-
The experience of just treading the same ground as these men, has changed my perspective on life somewhat, and has made me feel a little more grateful. How could it not? Makes our lives today seem insane when compared to theirs. We take it for granted, we complain about getting up, going to work, fighting the traffic and all. Those poor lads didn’t have a choice, with their whole lives in front of them, they sacrificed them. Sometimes I think the universe delivers us messages designed to have us rethink our priorities, and inspire us beyond belief. This experience was a great leveller for me, and one I hope stays long my thoughts. Lest we forget.
-
Anyway, cheers and my thanks to everyone back in my country of birth who helped make the trip the most memorable one ever. I have come away with a most amazing sense of gratitude and inner peace.

Ashh!!!!! Hello there. Am really enjoying reading your blog (just started and bugger I have to go to a hair appt) – something you would just not understand… but that’s OK
But I will continue when I get back!!!
Love your guts still buddy even though haven’t seen you in so many years – is good to know that people (well the real ones anyway) just never ever change and great to see the photos of some of your mates we met when they visited the ACT.
We are still in Albury, off to Phuket and Singapore with Jacqueline, Matt and another family (and jac’s boyfriend lol) in April so can’t wait for that one. Jac turning 18 in a month, Matt is 15.5…. time flies
Chat soon
Leanne
xx
PS: Is Billy still wearing Socks with his sandals???
Oh… and I forgot to mention Michael… ha ha he is of course coming along as well