Julian Roup – From Washington hints that Britain will be a beggar Ep35

In Episode 35 of his new book, author Julian Roup notes the hints from Washington that Britain will be a beggar after Covid-19 lockdown.

In case you missed Episode 34, click here.

Life in a Time of Plague

Sussex, 8th-9th May 2020

By Julian Roup 

Last night I made meatballs, or frikadelle, as they are known in South Africa. They were a huge success, if I say so myself. As someone who loves food and cooking I must admit that not all my dishes work out. And as this was a new recipe for me, one of my own making, I was particularly pleased. I served it with rice and a salad and a hot tomato & chili sauce, which was the pièce de résistance. It made a good dish spectacular. And best of all, there was enough left over for lunch today.

As we are having lunch, I hear Boris’ onetime boss at the Telegraph, Max Hastings, now a military historian, speaking about VE Day. He says what a poignant tragedy it was for those soldiers who died in the last days of WW2, when victory was assured, and for their families waiting for them at home with bated breath, counting the hours till they got home. How unspeakably cruel their deaths must have been for them and for their families, falling just before the finish line.

An image comes to mind of Wilfrid Owen, the great WW1 poet who died in its last week. On 11 November 1918, as news of the end of the war spread across the world, Owen’s parents received notice that their son had been killed in action. The second lieutenant, who would become known as one of England’s greatest war poets, had died while trying to lead his men across a canal at Ors seven days earlier. He was one of thousands of servicemen killed in the last month of the war, and their deaths, coming as they did so close to the end of hostilities, seem to have a particularly heart-breaking quality. His famous poem ‘Anthem for Doomed Youth’ reads:

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons.

No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.

The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk, a drawing-down of blinds.

There is a lesson in this for us. Having survived the peak of the pandemic, let’s not die now, when mopping-up operations are underway. Stay vigilant and stay safe; the war against Covid-19 is not yet anywhere near over, not until we’ve all been injected with a vaccine.

This VE Day is warm; it feels like the first true day of summer. I get hot walking back from my daily pilgrimage to Callum – ‘He-who-shall-never-be-whipped-again!’

The owner of the bluebell field, our kindly roof-fixer and hedge cutter, Robert Taylor, has published a book of his poetry titled A Lorry Driver’s World, which includes a poem called Sixty Five Years On:

‘Sixty five years on, the age a man can retire,

Bullets shot, long ago, men under fire.

Nothing remembered, lessons not learnt,

And now poppies growing in ground that was burnt.’

I look up but see no victory Spitfires overhead on this peaceful Bank holiday Friday, but far better in every way, there is indeed joy overhead. Our breeding pairs of swallows are knitting the air between the cottage and the stables, with swooping dives. Pearl and plain, pearl and plain, their clicking sounds fill the air.

I am full of lunchtime frikadelle, and pretty damn good they were too.  I can hear Jan and the kids in years past, teasing me at suppertime by echoing my claim, “Well this is delicious, if I say so myself!”, words I always use, they say, when I am appreciating the genius of my own cooking.

And speaking of food, things don’t look so good for any future post-Brexit trade deal with the US, now that we are leaving our major trading partner, the EU. The Independent’s political sketch writer Tom Peck reminds us that President Obama warned that if Britain voted for Brexit, it would go “to the back of the queue” for a trade deal with the US. Britain ignored that advice, and its role is now that of a tramp, says Peck, waiting hopefully at closing time, by the bins, out the back of America.

Peck says rumours have emerged that US trade officials have been referring to the forthcoming trade deal as the United States United Kingdom Agreement, USUKA for short, pronounced ‘you sucker’. Such rumours may not be true. But the truth within is self-evident.

So even after lockdown ends, there will be more mountains to climb for a newly impoverished Britain, begging at America’s door.

News from the White House indicates they have their own problems much closer to home. Two personal aides to President Trump and Vice President Pence have tested positive for Covid-19, and a number of staffers were taken off the President’s plane to be tested as he prepared for a trip to Camp David.

There is a huge, full, looming ‘Super Moon’ hanging in the sky these last two nights, whose silver beauty catches at the throat. The sight reminds me of the wonderfully named Kirsty Moon, a professional horsewoman who helps me with Callum when I have to be in London or abroad for work. She has posted a poem on social media that casts a cold lunar light on this time we are struggling through, and it is no surprise that young people are despairing. Here is a taste.

“…Warnings rang out amongst us, but humanity proved too strong willed. Woods became concrete jungles and manmade scars were etched upon the Earth. We lost sight of nature’s beauty. Of the simplest things and their greater worth. A land, that with less human presence, began to heal the wounds of our relentless abuse. It became clear – that to Earth humans were the virus – and for this there should be no excuse. We must learn to treat the world as our ally – for we need it more than it needs us.”

The radio news today reports that when Britain reopens for business, any travellers returning to the country will have to self- isolate for 14 days, which will put paid to most people having a summer holiday. People arriving in the UK from any country apart from the Republic of Ireland will be asked to quarantine themselves for a fortnight: that’s according to UK airlines, who say the government will introduce the restriction from the end of this month in response to the coronavirus outbreak.

And the over-70s will be advised shortly to stay in lockdown until June. On Sunday, the government is expected to announce how lockdown rules will start to be eased, and there has been speculation that the over-70s might be treated differently to the rest of the population. There are about nine million people over 70 in the UK, which is about 14% of the population. The Office of National Statistics figures up to April 2, show that 81.5% of the deaths in England and Wales, where the virus was mentioned on the death certificate, were for people aged over 70.

Our love of gardens in Britain is one of our best characteristics. Now it seems that visiting gardens will also become something we do online. A friend, George Plumptre, the CEO of the National Garden Scheme, has announced this new measure. Every year about 3,500 gardens open to visitors for the NGS, but this year the organisation expects its income to be down by 80%. For 90 years, the National Garden Scheme has given people the chance to visit some of the best private gardens in England and Wales and has given more than £60m to health charities, raised through admission charges as well as the sale of tea and cakes.

But coronavirus has forced these thousands of gardens to close to visitors for the first time in the scheme’s long history. So this year, gardeners will be showing off their efforts with videos, while urging people to donate money online as they meander virtually around the flowerbeds and lawns. Gardener and TV presenter Alan Titchmarsh has shared a tour of his garden near Alton in Hampshire, filmed last year, to encourage others to participate and donate. He said: “Our gardens offer us a sheet anchor in times of turmoil – never more so than this year.”

Jan and I feel blessed to have a garden to ourselves. It has been our retreat during this time of lockdown. We have felt less cut off, thanks to our time in its green spaces, watching the plants we have filled it with over four decades come to bloom this spring. Each day that the weather is good we both write. Jan is finishing a novel. Her previous three books were well received: Her most recent, ‘The World Beneath’, a young adult novel set in the apartheid era in South Africa, won a literary award in the US for its American edition, and was endorsed by Amnesty International ‘as contributing to a better understanding of human rights and the values that underpin them.’

This old cottage will soon have seen eight books emerge from it over the years, as well as countless articles, journalism and features. It is a rural word factory. I look up some words I wrote in 2006, as Jan and I sat working in the garden.

Cloud Comets

Silver-tipped cloud-comets cross the sky to and from Gatwick,

Lending added peace to the garden

As I sit, this perfect summer evening.

A pregnant cat crosses the lawn in search of sanctuary.

Crows argue and sheep bleat their dusk note.

Swallows harvest the near air,

As I contemplate my life.

Above, the cargoes of hope and despair

Trail plumes of sex and death and laughter

Like my own life, my own trail.

And beside me, my love, you sit, still there

After all these years.

A bright star in parallel orbit, trailing cares and kids and joys.

Dotty Britain is alive and well. British diplomats around the world will be running online to raise money for charity today. These are the much-criticised folk who were responsible for the repatriation of one million Brits from abroad, and now they are on the run.

British Government staff in diplomatic posts around the world will take part in a live, 24-hour global relay marathon to raise money for charities on the frontline, battling Covid-19. From Samoa to Vancouver, the ‘Diplomile’ will cover 101 countries over 23 time zones, travelling from East to West.

At the same time, it’s reported that thieves and conmen across Britain are cashing in on Coronavirus panic, selling fake facemasks and gloves among other scams. More than 500,000 unusable facemasks, and a garage selling fake Covid-19 testing kits, are among the hundreds of frauds investigated by trading standards officers since the start of the lockdown.

You’ve got to love Britain! A panic brings out the best in us, and the worst. But the gung-ho buccaneering spirit is alive and well.

Click here for Episode 36.

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