One of my very earliest memories is a horror of the word "Spitfire". I thought they must belong to the "enemy" if they had such a nasty name. (I was born early in WW2.)

Wonderful pictures Ron. I have a wonderful memory of taking my son to watch a Bristol Blenheim taking off at an airshow (Grandad was a propellerhead). He wanted to know why it was taking so long to get off the ground, I told him "she's an old lady. It takes her a while to get going". I never painted the picture (but one day, maybe) I have in memory of a jet taking off on a misty morning, with the exhaust flame glowing in the mist.

I don't think I will, thank you - I'm still pretty much repelled by the machinery of war, whoever it belongs to.

  Thank you, t-p.     You made your point more eloquently than I did.

The title of the film, "The First of the Few" (1942) was taken from a Winston Churchill oration, approx,   "Never in the field of human conflict have so many owed their lives to so few."         

Although barely a teenager, at the time, I do remember those days and the grief of the community as the "Killed in action" telegrams were delivered in their tens of thousands.   Remembrance Day remains special for me as their sacrifice gave me freedom of choice and expression throughout my life, although several of my school companions were killed, in action, during National Service in Korea and Malaya in the post-war years.   Two years conscription was the least that I could serve and, as in Message - two or three back, above - a short trip on a Wellington bomber, over Yorkshire & Lancashire, made me aware of the sheer terror those nightly trips must have been for the aircrew, over hostile territory.  And I had experience of the shattering noise from bombs in my own street.    A war machine, yes, but the consequences if we had lost were understood by a most resolute population at the time.   Any alternative was unthinkable.  Truly unthinkable.

Please tell me that there is going to be a picture posted later on...
I had another rather unsatisfactory cropping this week. Looked fine in the barber's, but two days later the back has started to do something odd. If my head wasn't such a weird shape, I would adopt Richard's method with clippers.
Since my girlfriend is highly critical of my choice of hair-cutting establishments, I've charged her with selecting the right place for my next excursion.

You won't read this now hh but I do hope it passes quickly and you feel fine in the morning. 


For you richard:
Hope it fits! 

I really hope you feel better by the time you read this. I remember being out of action, plodding around the house like Frankenstein's Creature for three days the first time I got hit big time. And that was after the aura had settled down.