"You see, in this world, there is one awful thing, and that is that everyone has his reasons." -- Jean Renoir, The Rules of the Game
- "England has been offered a choice between war and shame. She has chosen shame, and will get war." -- Winston Churchill on the Munich Agreement
- "Thank God I'm still an atheist." -- Luis Bunuel
"My dear Rikki," Karellen retorted, "it's only by not taking the human race seriously that I retain what fragments of my once considerable mental powers I still possess!" -- Arthur C. Clarke, Childhood's End
- "The Englishman sighed softly, as if slightly puzzled by the ability of Man to complicate unnecessarily his own existence here on earth." -- Frederick Forsyth, The Day of the Jackal
- "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here -- this is the War Room!" -- President Merkin Muffley, Stanley Kubrick's Dr Strangelove
A day in the Desert Air Force, North Africa (to commemorate Remembrance Day 2018)
Life in these squadrons is queer, unreal and unnatural. The guard comes and makes a noise outside the ambulance (where four of us sleep) at 0600 (six o'clock). Turn over. Crawl out at 0615, pull on a sidcot and boots. Tramp to personal aeroplane, start up, taxi out into formation, and off for an hour or two's dicing with the Teuton.
On the deck again, over to operations room for comparison of notes with the rest of the team. Have breakfast, bully beef and tea. Back to operations to find out the general position, "12 aircraft on 15 minutes available". Wait around operations room. Word comes via telephone—"6 aircraft to 5 minutes readiness, 6 to 2 minutes standby". I am in the "standby" team. Into the aircraft and taxi to end of runway, listen to radio for instructions, sit there in cockpit for one-and-a-half hours, then message comes through "12 aircraft back to 15 minutes available". Disperse aircraft. Retire to operations room, a patrol is ordered for 1400. Have lunch, bully and tea. Off again on patrol and back at 1600. After the usual confab, retire to mess tent. More food at 1730, bully and tea!
Message received, squadron is released until 0830 (8:30 in the morning). Faint cheer from pilots, sergeant pilots and officers in the same tent (most unprecedented this but active service must make a lot of difference). The boys retire to bivouacs, tents—and the ambulance. Bombs are dropping somewhere around (we don't care). Climb into the bed-roll, after taking off sidcot and boots. Sleep.
I'll see you soon I hope.
—Flight Lieutenant Ian Rose, No. 450 Squadron RAAF, letter home dated 11 December 1941
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