What has the Western world’s so-called ‘war on terror’ managed to do in the 20 years since we all watched the Twin Towers demolished by hatred and the demonic will to terrify and murder?

Well, we drove al-Qaeda out of Afghanistan didn’t we. And the Taliban from power.

And for a while we actually managed to bring human rights and democracy to this country at the crossroads of Central and South Asia.

Women received an education and freedom too.

And we murdered Bin Laden.

Then we ‘lost’ the Iraq War … and Tony Blair, for one, was shown up to be a liar and a warmonger who for some explicable reason became a peace envoy.

We must never forget how 9/11 damaged life and honesty across the world.

And remember that in Afghanistan, thousands of American troops and 457 of our own died.

***

So, on the run-up to the anniversary of the world’s most horrific terror attack what did we do?

America left Afghanistan, defeated as ignominiously as they left Viet Nam and so many other places. The world’s most powerful nation trounced by men women and children of the mountains, the forests and the deserts.

So what does our own Boris mean when he says “liberty and democracy will always prevail over every foe”?

Is he telling the truth?

Have we actually prevailed over the Taliban and the terrorists?

No we haven’t.

***

As we remember the Day That Changed The World, we see that there are no winners.

Biden suddenly took us out of Afghanistan and things went back to normal almost immediately.

We lost in the sands of time.

Biden’s forgetful heart and determination to get out of Afghanistan before the 9/11 anniversary has left Islamist terrorists and Western haters more powerful than ever.

And they are armed to the teeth with US weaponry.

Remembering 9/11 should be a time of healing, not a time of grotesquery. It should not be a time of betrayal by Biden who joins the list of ‘Bs’ who led the world in a terror … Bin Laden, Bush, Blair, Biden.

And now there is Boris who is now so in danger of bringing up the rear.

Lest we forget our Afghanistan heroes: The human stories of troops whose lives were blown apart fighting ‘losing war’ against terror

#biden #9/11 #boris #bush #blair #twintowers #afghanistan

SC BRYSON IS A WRITER I ADMIRE… ALLIGATORS AND INSECTS ARE PART OF HER LIFE IN THE LONE STAR STATE WHERE SHE HAS MADE HER HOME. I DON’T KNOW HER WELL BUT OVER THE PAST MONTHS SHE HAS SHOWN ME THE GOODNESS OF HER HEART, THE BREADTH OF HER MIND AND THE JOY OF HER ECCENTRICITY.

HERE SHE PRESENTS A BRILLIANT CHILDREN’S STORY ABOUT A GOLDEN ORB-WEAVER SPIDER NAMED ZUR … SC BRYSON’S STORIES TAKE YOU INTO AN ALIEN WORLD OF FANTASY AND MORALITY…

An enormous Golden Orb-Weaver Spider, named Zur, was enjoying an eerily quiet day. Her web was very sturdy so she was not feeling alarmed, in spite of the ominous clouds, staring down at her. In fact, she was feeling very, very confident and content.

This special spider only lacked one extremely important item. She wanted a true friend, a kindred soul who would always love her, even in the midst of a scary storm or even a humongous hurricane. Humongous was Zur’s favorite word, and she sprinkled it, profusely, as if it were a special seasoning. She never wanted her thoughts or feelings to seem remotely ordinary even if no one could hear or sense them.

Zur was feeling lonely because there were no other spiders of her species that lived in her neighborhood. Her little plot of land actually belonged to an ancient Homo Sapiens who lived by herself. Zur could see one other home from her web, and that was all she could see.

Occasionally, other creatures that resembled her Homo Sapiens would visit her, very briefly, but they never remained for very long.

Zur’s weird Hominid spoke in a loud, annoying manner, and she always carried a large, flat, silvery-black object with her, and she would constantly thrust that device towards Zur’s body.

A larger cluster of malevolent storm clouds began approaching, and they were enormously humongous. Zur began pacing back and forth.

She forced herself to remain very still so she wouldn’t damage her web but seven of her legs began twitching so severely that her humongous home had started shaking.

The rain slammed the parched ground as Zur trembled. She was humongously horrified as she muttered her favorite word again and again. That special word and all its identical siblings had soon fashioned a gorgeous web within her keen mind. Zur was half asleep when her Homo Sapiens scared her, and she was already terrified. This time, that horrid creature had actually lowered its volume so that random act of civility made Zur feel somewhat better.

Zur realized that her Homo Sapiens inhabited the large structure behind her cozy abode, and she rarely left it. Zur just had to put up with that unwelcome pest. The Hominid disappeared a few minutes later. Zur was feeling frustrated due to strange sensations that she’d been experiencing, but she was tired of focusing her precious spider brain on bodily goings-on so she slipped into a hypnotic coma, of sorts.

The sunrise was stunning. Zur loved the humongous clouds with their beautiful rosy bellies. The sweet spider especially loved being surrounded by Nature. Sometimes, she was frightened by certain primal sounds, especially when it was really, really dark. But, overall, she enjoyed her life, except for the absolute loneliness she experienced, night and day. Days and nights exchanged places, and the pace of those natural cycles kept accelerating. Zur’s catastrophic sadness began smothering her.

Then a miracle unfolded, in front of her. A beautiful, young Homo Sapiens wearing gorgeous multicolored skin suddenly appeared, and that beautiful being stimulated her curiosity. Zur’s favorite unwelcome creature was conversing with the lovely one.

Then the annoying one abruptly departed, for some reason, and Zur and the new Homo Sapiens gradually became acquainted. Her coloring was similar to Zur’s, and best of all, their names both began with the same letter. Zur discovered that the ancient one had nearly named her after the beautiful, young one, but changed her mind, for some unknown reason. Zur and Zayne were both thrilled that God had allowed them to possess the ability to understand one another. The new friends chatted a while longer, before parting ways. Zayne, and her fraternal twin brother, Zeeke, were involved with five different projects, and they both wanted to finish at least two or three of them before the sun slowly slid down the cloud-cluttered sky.

Zur stretched her long, lovely legs. A gentle breeze was gifting her with a very pleasurable ride. And, her heart was finally overflowing with a humongous helping of pure love. Zur and Zayne had created a very magical bond, and, Zur hoped that she would meet Zeeke some day soon.

Three days had fallen off of Zur’s imaginary spider-sized calendar. Loneliness had begun nagging at her sturdy spider soul. Where was her new friend?! Zur spent so much time worrying about Zayne that she forgot to secure her latest snack, and she cried when it flew away.

Then the two friends locked eyes…

Zur explained to her best friend that she was feeling very melancholy because she did not possess an audible voice. Her dear friend smiled sympathetically, and instinctively, an identical, double helix-shaped prayer surged towards Heaven.

Their conversation soon began drifting, and twisting all over the universe, completely encompassing both trivial and highly important topics of great relevance to both of them. All those ideas purposefully amused themselves as they meandered along the interconnected superhighways of their temporarily shared mind. And, it was an exhilarating experience for both of them.

Eventually, Zayne had to leave. Her incredible brother picked her up, at the appointed time, and they slowly sped down the long, long gravel road. Zur had never seen it before, but some day soon, she would.

Three sunrises and sunsets had appeared and disappeared, but Zur still hadn’t received another visit from her very own Homo Sapiens. The despondent spider clung to her tattered web. The last major storm had devastated it, but Zur couldn’t summon the strength or willpower to repair it. An inner wail turned into an outer groan. Zur’s legs tingled, and she nearly plummeted to the soggy, mossy ground directly beneath her beleaguered web.

“I, Zur, the Golden Orb-Weaver Spider, now have a voice!!”

Sobs, laughter, screams, and songs began echoing all around the deliriously triumphant spider. And, a joyful yet solemn prayer of thanks rattled her wildly ecstatic soul, mind and body.

Zur felt like she was 55% Homo Sapiens, and it was such a wondrous feeling. The spellbound spider was singing her favorite Blues tune when Zayne and Zeeke suddenly showed up. Zayne

and Zeeke both gasped, and then Zayne dropped to her knees and began to pray. Zeeke lowered himself to her level, then he put his arm around his beloved twin. And, she sobbed with joy.

“Thank you, Zayne and Zeeke…I am so glad that both of you showed up!! Now, my special celebration is complete!!”

Zayne and Zeeke were grinning at Zur, and at each other.

“We have moved to a much bigger, newer home in a secluded spot near a peaceful pond on the county line. It has a humongous enclosed patio, and you’re coming with us…right now!!”

Twin voices uttered those precious words in perfect harmony as if they had been practicing for years.

Zur, and a tiny scrap of her woebegone web were precariously perched on Zayne’s head while Zeeke slowly drove down the long, long gravel road. Zur savored every second of the ride, looking forward to the day when it would become a cherished memory.

Waves of thunder jerked Zur out of a deep sleep, and billions of bolts of bright jagged light kept tormenting the stunned, scared spider. Zur soon realized that she had only daydreamed and/or dreamt about possessing a real voice, an authentic Homo Sapiens’ voice. Her tears flowed for hours, nearly drowning her.

Zur’s humongous web was depressing her, and she began losing a lot of weight because she was feeling so sad. Zayne’s twin brother said he was feeling very ill, but Zeeke really wasn’t. He was only pretending because he had become jealous of his sister’s special relationship with the sweet spider. Zayne assured Zur that a little comfort and care and lots of sisterly love would soothe his shattered ego. Zur understood Zayne’s sticky situation, but she was still sad.

“I am very sad, much sadder than Zeeke, and I am genuinely sick… he’s just faking!”

Zur’s hoarse, internal statement was immediately swallowed by the howling winds as the trees began practicing the limbo. The exhausted spider couldn’t even shed any tears because she was so dehydrated. Zur was very frustrated and confused because she could barely feel her legs, and her head felt like it was spinning like an out of control gyroscope. Then Zur nearly blacked out.

“Don’t worry, Zur, we’re going to rescue you,” said Zayne as she stroked her emaciated friend.

Zur searched for Zeeke, but she couldn’t see him. Her vision was blurred, and she felt terribly weak. Zayne couldn’t find her brother either, but she had to focus fully on caring for her dear little friend. Just as Zayne pulled Zur towards her body, the newly still air began throwing a terrible temper tantrum. Pale blue skies instantly transformed themselves into an angry, yellowish-green hue, and frightened birds began the battle for their immediate survival.

Three jagged bolts were hurled from the increasingly infuriated skies, and two tall trees were neatly split in half. On top of that devastation, most of Zur’s ancient Hominid’s home was completely destroyed by the massive tree halves. Luckily, she had been out of town. Nature’s wondrous wrath had knocked Zayne and Zur to the ground. And, Zeeke was missing. For a few moments, they were both surreally stunned. No words or thoughts could be formed because that horrible event had destroyed all of them before they had even been born. All sense of everyday tranquility and normalcy had been thoroughly obliterated. But, in the midst of the overwhelming terror, the best friends remained eerily calm, cool and collected. Zur and Zayne had always loved that tired, old cliché because it always tickled their beautiful brains!!

Zayne was a gifted Wordsmith, Zur was an aspiring singer even if she had no voice yet, and Zeeke was a superb guitarist, drummer and self-taught mechanic. But would the trio live long enough to taste the future, or would their dreams disappear at the same time they did!?

Zeeke stumbled towards his sister, and Zur. Then he fell face forward into a friendly flowerbed.

Time became confused. Seconds seemed like hours, and hours had turned into decades. Then several hours passed away in only a few seconds. Time kept alternating between insanity and lunacy.

The sun suddenly appeared, and it brought a friend with it. A double rainbow. The beleaguered trio had survived the tempest. They couldn’t tell if it had been full-fledged hurricane because unconsciousness and consciousness had been involved in a seemingly life-threatening tango for the entire duration of the storm. At least, that’s how Zur’s spider brain remembered those horrific events, the few that she could actually recall.

Zayne stood up, but her knees and legs could barely bear the weight even though she was very petite. She allowed gravity to pull her back to the soggy, boggy, moss-encrusted ground. The best friends were stuck on that slippery spot that they had just escaped from. The weary warriors rested for an hour or so, and by then, Zeeke had regained consciousness, and he was feeling much stronger than his sister and her beloved spider friend.

The three of them concocted a feasible plan of action while they continued resting. Zur informed the twins where the tractor’s magical keys could be located. At first, the twins’ fingers became hopelessly entangled then they couldn’t stop trembling and fumbling about. Seconds soon turned into minutes. The keys were probably laughing at the klutzy duo, and finally decided to crawl out of their hiding place with some assistance from the hapless twins.

Zayne and Zeeke struggled for sole proprietorship of the precious keys. Each twin dropped them once or twice until Zeeke overpowered his diminutive sister. He held onto them, very tightly, and very triumphantly. Zayne no longer cared who drove the tractor as long as they made a speedy escape. Zeeke scrambled onto the tractor seat with exceptional dexterity, and Zayne used her remaining strength to drag herself onto the humongous tractor, with zero help from her twin. And, Zur, would soon be riding high, on top of Zayne’s head.

Zeeke had only driven a much smaller version of this tractor once before. But his confidence had swelled to enormous proportions.

Soon, the trio began bumping and lurching their way down the long, long gravel road. Three humongous grins appeared on their faces, and they were longer and prettier than any rainbows that had ever graced the skies.

They made a full recovery, and the twins penned and illustrated a children’s book chronicling their amazing ordeal. Occasionally, they would speak to local children at libraries and hospitals. Sometimes, they also made special appearances at birthday parties and family reunions.

Zur never realized her dream of having a real voice like Zayne’s or Zeeke’s, but her shining soul spoke directly to all the mesmerized listeners at each venue.

THE END

#spiders #

Tinashe’s a big girl now.

Well known as one of R&B’s talents with a string of critically acclaimed discs.

But, aged ten in 2003, she was an unknown Hollywood wannabe with a mum and dad determined to get her to where she wanted to go.

Then out of the blue – like a Hollywood dream come true – Tinashe got the chance to perform for Bob Dylan and his band.

Basically it was old rock’n’rollers and a little girl on rollers.

And her incredible charm and flawless voice earned her a role in Bob’s bizarre film Masked and Anonymous.

Some say Masked and Anonymous is a comedy, some say it’s a dystopian drama, some say art-house pomposity written by, and starring, Bob. 

But what ever they say, not many would disagree that Tinashe performing The Times They Are a-Changin’ for a rapt Bob and his band made the film worth watching.

Tinashe is listed in the credits as Mrs. Brown’s Daughter.

And she was in BIG company for one so young – Masked and Anonymous starred not only Bob as Jack Frost but Jeff Bridges, Penélope Cruz and John Goodman. 

Loosely, Masked and Anonymous is about a nation trashed by civil war looking forward to a giant charity concert, organized by Uncle Sweetheart (John Goodman), who plans to rip everybody off. Headlining is Jack Fate (Bob Dylan), a legendary musician who had been languishing in prison for some reason. Journalist Tom Friend (Jeff Bridges) tries to unmask the truth about the concert.

All very shapeless and uncomfortable, much like most of Bob’s film career. But there are some heart-stopping concert performances.

https://leighgbankspreservationsociety.blog/smashed-and-eponymous-how-the-greatness-of-bobs-film-surrounded-us-in-good-sounds/

Not least Tinashe. In reality her father teaches acting at California State Polytechnic University, Pomona and is a first generation immigrant of the Shona people of Zimbabwe – her mother, teaches physical therapy at California State University, Northridge.

When Masked and Anonymous was premiered at Sundance 2003, there was a standing ovation when Bob arrived.

Apparently, people continued to stand during the film, in order to leave!

I personally really like Masked and Anonymous…

Tinashe  recently released a  new album, 333.

Made at her home studio  333 apparently serves as a spiritual awakening for Tinashe. She says: “Every time I create a new body of work, I reflect on what I’m going through and by being home, I was able to focus on my spiritual journey and the things I was going through.”

#tinashe #bobdylan #maskedandanonymous #timeschangin

It’s time to make a change, don’t relax, don’t take it easy … the cat’s been out of the bag for decades

By Andrew John Teague

My dad, rest in peace. Never got to go to his funeral.

Found out my dad had passed six months after when I phoned my mother to tell her I was getting engaged.

My mum and dad had split years earlier, a bitter split and court battle. But my dad had my oldest sister with him.

Many years ago my dad won the case for my sister to live with him Me and my father did get back in touch, but not for very long.

My dad’s new wife did not like the fact we had a relationship again.

I know my dad wasn’t in the best of health but it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed. His new wife though was a twisted woman who even turned on her own daughter.

A jealous woman.

The point is, we often see people using the label Parental Alienation – yet, when this wasn’t even my parent or guardian – and I was 17 years old – this was a twisted person who didn’t want to share my dad.

My dad, I know, didn’t reject me. I know my dad loved me and he knows I love him too.

Bad behaviour, that’s the problem.

Seventeen years old and I knew my dad was fighting illness. (The illness wasn’t what my dad died of).

Articulate, that’s the word. It’s a word that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with truth or even common sense.

Let’s not beat about the bush.

Articulate can simply be a very well put together way of stating a LIE!

Articulate can mean an explanatory way of putting bullsh*t in front of people.

Articulate can mean people have the use of language to manipulate others.

Articulate can mean this is how I can undermine someone else.

Articulate does not mean truth or indeed fact.

Just means some can bullsh*t in a posh way …

FACT

I didn’t have any schooling – no gcse’s or other qualifications.

I went through care.

The real-life experiences and I had to go through the most horrendous things ever.

My dad was my dad.

He had children who loved him. He had a step daughter who loved him too. His wife was the one with issues…

I had not long turned 18 when my dad died.

21st century and still parents wrangle in the family courts. look for ways to batter each other.

And now the battleground of choice is social media.

Social media is a very good place. But it is equally a very bad place indeed.

We can NEVER EVER forget the damage done the kids.

#pa #parentalalienation #andrewjohnteague

A ‘secret’ message for all our friends wherever you are … summer’s almost gone and winter’s coming on.

We love all the people we have gathered on this thin raft of our travelling life. And where we are headed we can’t really tell.

But the borders of Brexit and the cold walls of Covid won’t stop us.

We’ve met genuises, gurus, racanteurs, wits, teachers, famous people, factory workers, officer workers, nurses, doctors and soldiers – and we’ve met bullies, liars and cheats.

Travelling, you come across the worst and the best, derelict and glorious, the future and the past, all on one mountainside.

I love this song and in some ways it expresses how we feel right now.

#travelling #goinghome #lost #friends #everybodyweknow

Bob, we believe in you, no matter what ‘JC’ says she remembers in the Chelsea Hotel…

The world of Bob Dylan fans, experts and pundits has gone up in flames after he was accused of sexually abusing a girl aged 12 in 1965.

A lawsuit has been filed.

If the claims are real then Bob needs to face the music…but if they are proved to be wrong, as so many of us stoically believe, then J.C. – the only identification being given to his accuser – should be taken to task.

It is claimed that Bob, aged 80, allegedly groomed, sexually abused and threatened physical violence against J.C.

Both MSM and social media are gathering at Bob’s ‘cabin door’ to dispute the claims – and experts say it is virtually impossible for him to have been in the Chelsea Hotel in New York due to his touring schedule.

This is supported by Dylan experts who say the time and place of the allegations don’t fit in with Dylan’s touring commitments.

The claims in the suit say the assaults happened in April and May. But Dylan was overseas for the majority of May, playing almost a dozen dates in England detailed in setlists.

He was also all over on the West Coast in April, playing in Berkeley, California. (April 3); Vancouver, British Columbia (April 9); Portland, Ore. (April 23); and Seattle (April 30).

Swedish researcher Olof Bjorner, who documents Dylan’s live performances and recording sessions has highlighted these events.

Then on April 25, Dylan went from Seattle to the UK to begin his Don’t Look Back tour, Rolling Stone magazine says. Upon arrival in England, he gave a press conference at the airport, which documentary filmmaker D.A. Pennebaker seen in his 1967 film Don’t Look Back.

The tour ran from April 30 to May 10, then he flew to Portugal with Sara, says Dylan scholar, Prof Anne Margaret Daniel. Dylan then returned to London on May 23 where he actually went in to hospital for a number of days.

The alleged abuse occurred multiple times over a six-week period between April and May 1965.

When did he have time?

Clinton Heylin, well-known Dylan writer, has said that Dylan spent most of his time in Woodstock when not touring. And if he was in New York City, he stayed at his manager’s apartment in Gramercy. “It is almost impossible to find one week — let alone six — that spring when Dylan could have been staying at the Chelsea Hotel,” Heylin told Rolling Stone magazine.
The legal documents,seen by USA TODAY also claim that Dylan “exploited his status as a musician” to illegally provide drugs and alcohol to the underage girl.

A spokesperson for Dylan said that “the 56-year-old claim is untrue and will be vigorously defended”.

All of us, I’m sure, agree that the claims must be causing one of the greatest artists of this and the last century much heartache and upset.

But us true fans must not allow him to dwell in the shadow kingdom of litigation and fear … if he committed the crime, he will be punished.

If he didn’t then he will almost certainly be cleared. But in this awful internet world, cyber mud sticks.

We at Our Society will monitor the case closely and we will also continue to play Dylan’s brilliant catalogue and revere him for the genius who is generally seen as.

But too it is a sign of the times when celebrities are sued – or accused – of some kind of impropriety which could ring the bells in a career ending holocaust.

It’s not the first time Bob has faced hurtful and shock claims … in 2013 Croatians filed a lawsuit against him for “incitement to hatred”.

French officials notified Dylan of the lawsuit when his “Never Ending Tour” brought him to Paris for three concerts at the Grand Rex, and to receive the Legion of Honour.

The suit was filed last year by the Representative Council of the Croatian Community and Institutions in France (CRICCF).

It was based on a quote in Dylan’s interview with Rolling Stone magazine.

Referring to the legacy of the American civil war, Dylan said: “This country is just too f**ked up about colour . . . Blacks know that some whites didn’t want to give up slavery – that if they had their way, they would still be under the yoke, and they can’t pretend they don’t know that. If you got a slave master or Klan in your blood, blacks can sense that. That stuff lingers to this day. Just like Jews can sense Nazi blood and the Serbs can sense Croatian blood.”

The allegations never amounted to anything.

Then Levy’s widow, Claudia Levy, filed the lawsuit back in January after Dylan sold his publishing catalogue to Universal Music Publishing Group in December, arguing that the estate should receive a portion of the overall amount that Dylan took home from the reported $300million sale.

Dylan and UMG’s lawyers contended that the original agreement drafted between Dylan and Levy in 1975 made it clear that he would not own any of the material, and that his profit participation would consist of a share of songwriting royalties, which Judge Barry Ostrager of the Supreme Court of New York agreed with.

In another extraordinary accusation, Bob was accused of being racist in Hurricane, a song about Reuben Carter … Grant Avery claimed that the 43 year old ‘outlaw’ song had racist content. It floundered on the desk of a local radio station.

#templeinflames #bobdylan #jc #courts #rollingstone #hurricane #webelieveinyoubob #levy

Afghan refugees were making their way to Europe as UK and US troops were making their way back to Kabul to rescue thousands.

Meanwhile, the Taliban has promised women’s rights, media freedom, and amnesty for government officials after capturing the Afghan capital, Kabul.

Zabihullah Mujahid, the armed group’s spokesman, said on Tuesday that the rights of women will be ‘protected’ within the framework of Islam.

Very few I’m sure are holding their breath over a ‘pledge’ from people who were instrumental in destabilised the Western World. And their own too.

So, the big question everybody is asking is, was it worth the 20 years we spent there fighting an enemy almost as elusive as the Vietnamese were back in the heady days of hippy peace and stoned love.

Surely, the withdrawal can only be seen as another weakness for world powers, the potential opening of doors to a new horror of terrorism, or as a damaging PR exercise for Stumbling Bumbling Joe Biden or as what so many are describing as more buffoonery from Britain’s baffling Boris.

But more than anything, is it not a major slap in the battle-worn face of our troops who were sent to Afghanistan over the past two decades and had their lives devastated?

Some years ago, through a British army major with a heart, I met many of these devastated squaddies at a ‘secret’ safe-haven in the European mountains.

Our Society is republishing some of the stories over the next week to show the truth of what it was like to actually be doing the bidding of politicians across the world who used them as ‘pawns in the game of terrorism’ that murders and maims the innocent.

This is Peter’s story … we have changed his name, location and regiment to protect him and his family.

This is a real-life story: A crippled friendly-fire hero has told how the army agreed to save his career by sending him to the mountains of Central Europe to be treated by the ancient art of cryogenics.

Four minutes of controlled icy death which some believe helps to repair limbs and organs rendered useless by bombs in Afghanistan.

Squaddie Peter suffered disastrous back injuries when a quad bike rolled on him as he battled to save his mates after Americans bombed them by accident in Kajaki, Afghanistan.

Peter was, at the time, 20 years.

He said: “We’d engaged with the Taliban in a mountain pass when a 500lb-er went off right in our faces. We realised it was friendly fire, an American bomb had dropped short.”

Three of his friends in his regiment died in the incident.

Peter, who lived in Essex, said: “I’ve spent a year in rehab and things have just been getting worse, I couldn’t go on parade or do any work. My career’s been on ice for a year.

“The writing was on the wall for me. Then out of the blue the MoD offered me this holiday . I was amazed.”

He and his girlfriend were flown for free to the spa where the cryochamber, a method of freezing the body to 160 degrees used by leading sports people, is based.

Peter said: “I can’t believe it. I used the cryochamber every day I was there and I felt a difference immediately. Before, I could hardly walk but now I can stand straight and I’m back to normal.”

But he was one of the lucky ones … 457 British personnel died after Nato forces entered the Afghanistan in 2001.

Lorraine McClure’s son Aaron was killed in Helmand Province alongside Robert Foster and John Thrumble while serving with the Royal Anglian Regiment in 2007.

A US F15 plane bombed them instead of a Taliban position.

After the recent events in Afghanistan, Ms McClure told the BBC: “At this moment in time, I really do feel his death was for nothing.

“It took me a lot of years to accept that his death wasn’t in vain, but today I don’t feel that at all. I feel he should be here, as well as many others, because the country is the same as it was before.”

More stories of our Afghan heroes to follow.

#afghanistan #kabul #taliban #Uktroops #cryogenics #Ustroops

Confused anti-vaccine protesters attacked what they thought was a major BBC building, unaware the corporation had more or less dumped it a decade ago.

Way off the target of the BBC’s news operation, responsible, they say, for promoting Covid-19 vaccines, protesters forced their way in to the Television Centre in west London. But it is now used by ITV to film shows such as Good Morning Britain and This Morning.

The majority of London-based BBC staff are based five miles away at Broadcasting House on Portland Place.

Loose Women co-host Charlene White thanked the security team who kept protesters out of the studio while her ITV programme was on air on Monday afternoon.

“Not sure what protesters were hoping to achieve, but all they would’ve found was me!”

Outside was Piers Corbyn, the brother of the former Labour party leader, was recorded on one live stream as saying “we’ve got to take over these bastards”, while other individuals on the protest described the media as “the virus” and criticised the BBC’s coverage of the coronavirus pandemic.

Hundreds of people outside the studio building chanted “shame on you”.

Oops, it doesn’t say much for their “research” skills, though does it?

But it does show their tenacity in believing wrong, misleading, misguided information…

It also reveals a complete naivety and blindness that lets so many of these protesters to be led blindly down the Covid-free, mask-less, vaccine removed Garden Path of Illusion.

Why didn’t these intelligent – well read, health expert, scientific-understanding, professional media condemning, social media believing, politician trouncers, abusers of people who want to survive-by-their-own-choice, controversial bee-in-their-bonnet berks – simply move on to their real target when they realised they’d got off the bus at the wrong stop?

Was it because it was the BBC saying “you’re in the wrong place mate!” and the BBC were supported in that information by the police, security guards, local authority and journalists.

Is that why these maskless-raiders spent two hours putting the stars of Loose Women and other programmes, if not in a state of fear in a state of frustration and indignation?

Two hours of terror, the tabloids may say.

But what would describe it as, you would-be revolutionaries of the Big Bug Society? A bit of peaceful fun and banter? A bit of freedom of speech INSIDE a building that was the wrong one?

What about the family of anti-vax solicitor Leslie Lawrenson, who died of Covid just nine days after posting it “was nothing to be afraid of”.?

His unvaccinated partner Amanda Mitchell got it too but survived.

What about “super fit” John Eyers, aged 42, who refused to get the vaccine because he believed he would only suffer a mild illness?

What about Francis Goncalves who lost both his unvaccinated parents to the virus, as well as his 40-year-old brother Shaul?

What about the anti-vaxxer David Parker, 56, who died of Covid last week after denouncing the vaccine as a media conspiracy.

What about the six friends of mine who have been listed as dead from Covid?

Will those protesters who were in the wrong place at the wrong time intimidating the wrong people ever listen?

Or will they continue to take the gamble that by flouting the laws and spinning untruths, no more of us will affected by the virus that has now claimed around 4.3million lives worldwide.

Could they now find a way of at least putting their hearts in the right place?

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