The Dog's Blog

Ever wondered what would happen if the Battle of Trafalgar was fought in today’s more enlightened times?

Read on and remember, to be taken with an extremely large pinch of salt…!

You are now on the deck of the recently renamed ‘HMS Appeasement’!

Nelson: “Give the order to hoist my signal Hardy.”

Hardy: “Aye Aye Sir.”

Nelson: “Hold on – that is not the signal I dictated to my signals officer.”

Hardy: “Sir?”

Nelson: “England expects every person to do his duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability. What gobbledegook is this?”

Hardy: “Admiralty policy I’m afraid, Sir. We’re an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil’s own job getting ‘England’ past the censors, lest it be considered racist.”

Nelson: “Gadzooks! Hand me my pipe and tobacco.”

Hardy: “Sorry Sir, All naval vessels have been designated smoke-free working environments.”

Nelson: “In that case, break open a cask of rum. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle.”

Hardy: “The rum ration has been abolished Admiral. It’s part of the Government’s policy on binge drinking.”

Nelson: “Good heavens! Well, I suppose we had better just get on with it. Full speed ahead!”

“Hardy: I think you’ll find there is a 4-knot speed limit on this stretch of water, sir.”

Nelson: “Dammit man, we are on the eve of the greatest sea fight in history. We must attack with all dispatch. Report from the crow’s nest please!”

Hardy: “That won’t be possible Sir.”

Nelson: “What?”

Hardy: “Health and Safety have closed the crow’s nest sir, No harness. They say that the rope ladder does not meet with regulations. They won’t let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected.”

Nelson: “Then get the ship’s carpenter without delay, Hardy.”

Hardy: “Unfortunately he’s busy knocking up wheelchair access to the fo’c’sle, Admiral.”

Nelson: “Wheelchair access? I’ve never heard anything so absurd.”

Hardy: “Health and Safety again, Sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled.”

Nelson: “Differently abled? I’ve only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn’t rise to the rank of admiral by playing the disability card.”

Hardy: “Actually Sir, you did. The Royal Navy is under-represented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency.”

Nelson: “Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons.”

Hardy: “A couple of problems there, too Sir. Health and Safety won’t let the men aloft without crash helmets. And they don’t want anyone breathing in too much salt – haven’t you seen the adverts?”

Nelson: “I’ve never heard of such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy.”

Hardy: “The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral.”

Nelson: “What? This is mutiny.”

Hardy: “It’s not that Sir, It’s just that they are afraid of being charged for murder if they actually kill anyone. There are a couple of human rights lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks.”

Nelson: “Then how are we supposed to sink the French and the Spanish?”

Hardy: “Actually Sir, we’re not!”

Nelson: “We’re not?”

Hardy: “No Sir, The French and Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn’t even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a huge claim for compensation.”

Nelson: “But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil.”

Hardy: “I wouldn’t let the ship’s diversity co-ordinator hear you saying that Sir. You could be up on a disciplinary.”

Nelson: “But surely you must consider every man an enemy who speaks ill of your King?”

Hardy: “Not any more sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest, it’s the rules.”

Nelson: “Don’t tell me – Health and Safety. What happened to rum and the lash?”

Hardy: “As I explained Sir, Rum is off the menu, and there is a ban on corporal punishment.”

Nelson: “What about same-gender relationships?”

Hardy: “I believe that is to be encouraged Sir.”

Nelson: “Thank God for that. In that case – kiss me Hardy!”

‘Breaker’ Morant’ was a larger than life Australian ‘Bush Poet’. He was known, among other things, for his outstanding skills as a horseman – hence the nickname ‘Breaker’.

During the Boer war he went off to South Africa, as did many Australians, to help the ‘Mother Country’ in their dispute with the Dutch Boers. After a series of highly controversial killings – and a Courts Martial that defies all known logic and law – Morant and a colleague were shot by a British firing squad.

The incident caused diplomatic chaos between Britain and Australia and cast a very long shadow over the involvement of Lord Kitchener in the matter.

Morant’s last words were:

“Shoot straight, you bastards! Don’t make a mess of it!”

Although most of his early adventures are open to debate – it’s thought that many of the tales of his daring and dash are thought to have been started by Morant himself – there is no doubt that he was a fine horseman, a ferocious fighter and an extremely talented poet.

The name of ‘Breaker’ Morant was first brought to my attention by a superb film, made in the early 1980s, of his life in which Edward Woodward played the part of Morant.

Several years later, I was lucky enough to procure a copy of some of his reprinted poetry. My favourite has always been the last ever written by him – in his prison cell on the night before his execution. It’s called: ‘Butchered to Make a Dutchman’s Holiday’.

In prison cell I sadly sit,
A d__d crest-fallen chappie!
And own to you I feel a bit-
A little bit – unhappy!

It really ain’t the place nor time
To reel off rhyming diction -
But yet we’ll write a final rhyme
Whilst waiting cru-ci-fixion!

No matter what “end” they decide -
Quick-lime or “b’iling ile,” sir?
We’ll do our best when crucified
To finish off in style, sir!

But we bequeath a parting tip
For sound advice of such men,
Who come across in transport ship
To polish off the Dutchmen!

If you encounter any Boers
You really must not loot ‘em!
And if you wish to leave these shores,
For pity’s sake, DON’T SHOOT ‘EM!!

And if you’d earn a D.S.O.,
Why every British sinner
Should know the proper way to go
Is: “ASK THE BOER TO DINNER!”

Let’s toss a bumper down our throat, -
Before we pass to Heaven,
And toast: “The trim-set petticoat
We leave behind in Devon.”

Hmmmm…history repeating itself? (Thanks to Bev for this one)

Oliver Cromwell’s Speech on the Dissolution of the Long Parliament
Given to the House of Commons on 20 April 1653:

Read more about History and Parliament