R.S. BURDON, M19321 (“England Expects” July Reflections), the late Henry Ford I, and I have an important thing in common — we all seem to believe that history is bunk. When Nelson had his chips at Waterloo, through a well directed arrow from Norman Williams (or was it
Norman Wisdom’s?) lot, he was heard to murmur in pain, “It’s me ‘eart — ee,ee.”
They buried him darkly at dead of night, the sods (beg pardon) near where Belguim’s capital had gathered then her beauty and her chivalry, and bright the lights shone o’er fair woman, and brave men (or sump’n). As about the same penod (40 B.C.), a warrior called Wellington, a friend of Cassius* and Tolstoy, not much liking water around his ankles, had invented a boot to keep his feet dry while having a bash at the Spanish Armada at Jutland.
A further selection from my “Outline of History” may appear later, by kind permission of my co-editor, A. (JP) Tailer.
•Yeh, yeh — that’s him!
A. G. Sparkes, M3482
Editor's note - This article is from Reflections No. 11 Autumn 1973, page 13 and has been captured by OCR, so typos & errors are possible.