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At the Eleventh Hour Of The Eleventh Day – Or Whenever’s Convenient

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Nov 082011

With Remembrance Sunday approaching fast and the wearing of a poppy being de rigueur for every stuffed shirt and empty suit on TV, Voice’s Dave Watt thinks about 11 November.

11 November falls on a Friday this year, so the dead will have to wait until Sunday to be remembered, as the powers that be don’t seem to think that remembering them on the actual Armistice Day would be convenient.
I mean, businesses might lose a whole two minutes profit and think what a disaster that would be for our thriving economy. After all, big business interests shovel money into party funds and one and a quarter million dead servicemen and women don’t. So, balls to them.

Armistice Day on 11 November was originally meant to signal the end of The War to End Wars, back in a time when that phrase wouldn’t bring forth a cynical snigger.

In fact, on my grandfather’s medals, hanging in a frame in my hallway, it refers to The Great War For Civilisation which shows that there were politicians in the 1920s capable of coming out with the same kind of drivel as George W Bush did with his ludicrous War on Terror ten years ago.

Presumably, at some time in the future there will be a War For Straight Bananas or a War For Fashionable Sandals or something equally weird.

Hopefully, this year will not feature such irretrievable tat as the Royal British Legion inviting The Saturdays to frolic half-naked in a sea of poppies or getting the judges on X Factor to wear grotesque poppy fashion items – two tasteless frolics which inspired ex-SAS soldier Ben Griffin to describe them as ‘stunts to trivialise, normalise and satirise war’. Griffin, in fact, went on to state that remembrance has been turned into ‘a month long drum roll of support for current wars’, a point of view it is increasingly difficult to disagree with.

My grandfather joined up in 1914 in the surge of patriotism engendered by Germany illegally invading Belgium; my uncle joined up in 1939 when Hitler illegally subjugated Poland. Presumably, if Tony Blair had been Prime Minister in 1914, we’d have joined in the illegal invasion and attacked tiny Belgium as we did with impoverished third world Afghanistan, not one of whose citizens had previously done us the slightest harm.

Then again, if Tony had been in charge in 1939 he’d surely have produced some shoddy dossiers to our gullible Parliament showing how those dastardly Poles were all set to attack peace-loving Nazi Germany and that they had weapons of mass destruction concealed in Cracow and Gdansk which could be deployed within 45 minutes.

Yes, if good old Tony had been on the case then, we could nowadays watch Wellington bombers joining the Stukas strafing the women and kids in Warsaw on World at War on Yesterday – with a suitably solemn voice-over courtesy of Laurence Olivier. God, wouldn’t that make us just so proud of ourselves?

No, the bottom line is that we’re not the Good Guys helping the Underdog against the Bully any more. We’re something quite different now.

If you were wondering what happened to my uncle and grandfather in their wars, my uncle died in Normandy in 1944 after fighting in North Africa, Italy and Sicily. My grandfather survived four years in the trenches but was wounded and mustard-gassed in 1918. The mustard gas steadily and horribly eroded his lungs over the years and he eventually died in 1955 aged 56, so the War for Civilisation got him in the end.

I also had a relative on board HMS Hood when the Bismarck sank her in the Denmark Straits in May 1941. He was not one of the three survivors.

It’s interesting to think that if my three relations had survived wars and lived until now that their reward from a grateful country would be to have some pampered ex-public schoolboy Tories and Lib Dems cutting their fuel allowances by £100 this winter.

I’ll have my own two minutes silence for my relations and all the rest – the ones who came back and the ones who didn’t.

On Friday.

Photo Credits –
Row Of Crosses © Mediaonela | Dreamstime.com
Poppy At Newe July 2011 © Elaine Andrews

Denis Law: My Life In Football – Book Review.

Aberdeen City, Articles, Community, Featured, History, Information, Opinion, Sport No Responses »

Sep 302011

Those irreverent scamps of Scotland the What?, in a live take on Harry Gordon’s ‘Fittie Folk, Kitty Folk’, once cheekily ended a contemporary refrain with, “Harlaw, Pointlaw, Babbie Law and Denis Law”, proof that the reputation of this scrawny blond loon from Printfield is as firmly scorched into the local psyche and folklore as those enduring, immovable, jutting-jawed Aberdeen landmarks. This is all the more impressive considering that apart from his 55 appearances for Scotland, Law’s football career was entirely spent in England and, briefly, Italy. Voice’s David Innes reviews Denis Law: My Life In Football.

I have to admit that I was first disappointed when I picked up My Life In Football. I did not know that it was a pictorial retrospective of Law’s life and career, expecting it to be an update of his previous biography The King.

It is only on the inner frontispiece that the alternative title My Life In Pictures is shown. There is also a Scottish Edition available, although there is no indication how this differs from the edition sent to Voice for review.

Do not let this put you off if you are a fan of the formerly Beautiful Game, however.

Law, in partnership with Ivan Ponting, has selected almost a thousand photographs, ranging from his gawky, bespectacled Kittybrewster schooldays in the late 1940s to contemporary images, showing one of the game’s elder statesmen happy and relaxed in well-deserved retirement.

In between, there are some stunning action images captured by the cream of the world’s sports photographers during football’s golden era. Unfortunately, the photo credits are only given to the image owners in the book’s acknowledgment appendix, as it would provide fellow obsessives with months of joy tracking down and drinking in the magnificent portfolios of the snappers whose work is featured.

Each image has been captioned by Law, and although he and his editor will have had access to historical statistics and tele-visual resources to inform these mini-narratives, there is little doubt that Law’s own memory has played its part in writing the captions.

The detail proves that his memory remains as sharp as those deadly penalty box reflexes were when this legend was the goal area nemesis of rugged, brutish defenders, when football was tough and hard and its physicality celebrated as a challenge to the skilful and brave. One cannot imagine Law ‘simulating’ to gain a penalty under a robust assault by Chopper Harris, Jackie Charlton or Norman Hunter. That would have been an admission of defeat, of weakness, and viewed as an unworthy, cowardly way of gaining a tarnished advantage.

My Life In Football is unashamedly for football fans, so does not set out to philosophise about the game or give deep insights into the consciousness of one of the finest footballers of all time.

The captions, the narrative if you will, are therefore non-controversial and written in the ubiquitous ribbing, deprecating style, an incessant feature of football in dressing rooms at every level in the UK and which are a bit wearing unless you happen to be part of it.

The same can be said of the contributions made by Law’s fellow protagonists in the images, Paddy Crerand, Bobby Charlton, the late George Best and a variety of other teammates and rivals, but behind the mickey-taking, the comments are made with obvious affection and respect for Law’s outrageous ability.

This is a coffee table book, designed for repeated reference, packed with magical memories for those who had the privilege of living through the era when supremely-gifted craftsmen such as Denis Law made football, when it was The People’s Game, exciting, compelling and the best possible release from stupid, stressful reality.

It is also a worthy historical tome which will help inform those who believe that football began with Serie A, La Liga and the Premiership and the out-of-proportion sums of money falsely keeping such structures afloat.

Denis Law: My Life In Football (Scottish-edition)
Simon and Schuster.
ISBN 978-0-85720-084-6.
250 pages.
£25.

Old Susannah No.50 – Open Doors, Open Season

Aberdeen City, Articles, Community, Creative Writing, Environment, Information, Opinion, Satire and Humour No Responses »

Sep 092011

Old Susannah watches the latest developments in the ‘Deen and the wider world and feels like a deer caught in headlights. Here is this week’s look at what’s happening where and who’s doing what to whom. By Suzanne Kelly.

This Saturday is Open Doors day; I urge you to get out and visit sites in Aberdeen normally closed to the public. (I will try and get to Marischal College – but I will also be whale-watching at Torry Battery with local expert Ian Hay at 10:30).

From noon Old Susannah will be at Marks & Spencer collecting signatures on postcards to highlight the plight of our Tullos Hill Deer. The postcards are free and will be sent to the City; please come see me. The design is a powerful one, I think you’ll agree.

Old Susannah spent last week in France and Italy. I wandered around small towns and capital cities, and was struck at the lack of concrete, shopping malls, and ‘connectivity’. Small, intimate spaces were around every corner – but you actually were better off walking from place to place.

Not a single monorail was in sight either. Small, local shops were busy with locals and tourists – there was no choice but to buy individualistic, hand-made items in most of the places I visited. Streets were tree-lined; parks filled with interesting plants, and the pavements were amazingly clean. Even the smallest of towns had rich programmes for retired/elderly people.

I even came across a programme to teach dog owners the importance of keeping their animals under control and cleaning up after them. Don’t worry – nothing like this will happen here.

Sad to say I missed this year’s Offshore Europe.

While historically a few firms hire attractive fashion models to talk to prospective clients about North Sea joint venture economics and showcase the latest in directional drilling techniques and so on, this year it seems one firm took things a bit further. I am told swimsuit models were window dressing for one of the stands.

Perhaps this bathing-suit theme was something to do with subsea operations or ‘diving’ of some sort or other. Whatever happened to the old-fashioned practice of giving OE visitors lots to drink? In any case, it is a good thing we have more women involved in the oil business, and the presence of glamour models should by no means be seen as a cheap publicity stunt or a large backwards step for equality.

In a happy development, the baby gull that I rescued (with a co-worker’s help) made a complete recovery at New Arc Animal Sanctuary, and will be released soon, along with a Fulmar and some ducklings. Keith at New Arc has his hands full, and is still looking for volunteers and donations. New Arc will shortly open a charity shop in Banff, and will want your unwanted quality goods (new and used) to sell. Get in touch with New Arc at thenewarc1@aol.com.

I realise not everyone loves birds and gulls – I’ve not forgotten Mervyn New, who happily blasted baby gulls with a gun (at his work no less). But it seems a contributor to Aberdeen’s newest free newspaper, Aberdeen City Life, isn’t fond of them, either.

‘Fona’ McKinnon writes in City Life about the ‘Terrorists From the Sky.’ Er, they are birds and not quite terrorists; some people might object to the comparison in this run-up to the anniversary of 9/11. Best not to feed them (terrorists I mean) in town, but it’s definitely best not to blast them with guns either. Old Susannah wishes City Life all the best, and is glad there is another hard copy newspaper in town.

Finally, a tired, old, Aberdeen institution has had a much-needed facelift (no, not you Kate). Aberdeen City’s website has been re-vamped, and looks absolutely vibrant and dynamic. (More on its contents in a minute).

Time for some timely Deen definitions.

Family Business

(modern English compound noun) An organisation or enterprise staffed, organised and managed mainly by members of one family.

Much has been said lately about the excesses of the UK’s MPs when it comes to claiming expenses. Gone are the days of flipping second homes, flipping padded expenses and flipping new luxury bird houses in moats for the flipping MPs.

Much has also been said about the MPs using unpaid interns. The interns work for free, and more often than not are people who don’t need to work for money; often internships are given out to the well connected. But one area where the MP is still free to do as they please concerns hiring family.

Family members serve as secretaries, assistants and office managers. The Independent Newspaper’s sister paper ‘i’ reports that the taxpayer is shelling out a few million pounds annually for the 130 or so MPs’ family members. I am sure it must be a hardship working for mum or dad; the interviewing process must be rigorous.

I guess the jobs are all advertised widely, and a number of candidates are shortlisted before junior gets the job.

Closer to home, I note that many of our elected City Council officials still have time to run Aberdeen along world-class lines while still keeping a hand in their own family businesses. Some work as assistants for family plumbing or electrical businesses. Old Susannah knows it’s possible to do more than one job at once, but has always been confused by one little detail.

Some of these councillors list on their council web pages that they work for a family business – but when I look at the official register of interests, I can’t find where that work is actually listed. Are they working for free? Possibly – they are all quite selfless souls. Even so, I believe such work is meant to be on the official register of interests.

I am still trying to get to grips with what is/is not put on the registers, and aside from one rather terse email to me from the City (which took months for them to compose), I’m just not there yet.

Of course if any of these family business companies were doing any work for the City, the relevant councillors would bow out of any relevant meetings, and there would be complete transparency. I am sure that everything is above board. I just can’t find it in writing, that’s all.

‘Open Data Initiative’

(Aberdeen modern phrase)

Just when you thought the City had completely shown its hand and come clean about deer, trees, expenses, garden projects, planning, and selling land at less than market value – along comes: the ‘Open Data Initiative’. I mentioned the swish new website layout (I have to admit – it is an improvement), well one of the new-look site’s great successes is the Open Data Initiative.

I can practically feel the suspense building, and almost hear people asking aloud “What is the Open Data Initiative”! Without any further ado – here you go:-

Open data is about increased transparency, about sharing the information we hold with the wider community to build useful applications.

We’re always looking for new ways of making it as easy as possible for developers and website owners to access and present data held by us in ways that they want – allowing you to remix, mashup and share data easily.

Use the links to the right to navigate to our various datasets available. We’ll be adding more datasets soon, as well as pointers to online tools for making use of this data.

http://www.aberdeencity.gov.uk/open_data/open_data_home.asp

I am confident the City knows about data ‘mashup’; I would in fact swear to this. Well, what possible data are they now freeing up for us to mash and re-organise?

Will they tell me how much they are paying the deer ‘expert’?
Will they (finally) say how much land they sold at less than market value?
Will they let me know if any companies doing building maintenance at council properties are Councillors’ family businesses?

Brace yourself: if you go to the Statistics page link on the Open Data page.
(http://www.aberdeencity.gov.uk/open_data/statistics.asp)
You will find everything you might want to know. About how many hits the City’s website gets per month, the population figures, and the expenditure on something called the ‘Accord’ Card.

These are the very things I’d put on a Statistics page if I ran a city that was millions in the red. I was dying to know how many visitors the City’s web page had in August 2010 – the answer was (of course) 214,000. I guess that’s all of our questions answered now.

With our debt level in mind (and not being 100% certain a carpark and mall in UTG will save us from ruin), I followed a link to the February finance meeting documents. With our newly-launched ‘Open Data’ initiative in place, surely the City will be open with its – I mean our – finances, I thought.

Not all data is for the public of course. For instance, I was relieved to find that about half the information the Finance Committee discussed in February last year is off limits. Have a look for yourself if you like:
http://committees.aberdeencity.gov.uk/ieListDocuments.aspx?CId=146&MId=1925&Ver=4

You’ll see that many documents are withheld as they are tip top secret, must never be released, and are commercially sensitive. And thank goodness. It’s hard to get any privacy sometimes; so I’m glad to know that privacy is respected by our City’s officials.

However, I noted that an item from this Finance meeting about ‘Managed Data Centre and Virtual Desktop Environment’ was deemed secret.
If we have an ‘open data’ policy I guess it’s reasonable to withhold information from the public on the ‘Managed Data Centre and Virtual Desktop Environment ’ – I’m just not sure why.

But the good news is now you can see the reasons why you can’t see the items on the agenda. And that, I suppose, is ‘Open Data’.

On that note I feel the need for a Brewdog coming on. I will say here and now I bought a few shares in Brewdog, so please consider that my interest in Brewdog to be declared. I bought the shares, the T-shirt, and the beers. Why? Because they are great.
If I had a family business, I’d like it to be Brewdog, I do declare.

– Next week: ‘Police and Thieves’

The Amazing Life Of Bob Cooney Part 2 – Fighting Fascism

Aberdeen City, Articles, Community, Featured, History, Information No Responses »

Jun 182011

In a time before widespread international travel, Bob Cooney would journey across continents to realise the depths of his beliefs. He would find himself at the sharp end of unfolding events that would prove to be of considerable historical significance. In the second part of the trilogy written by Bob’s nephew – Aberdeen City Councillor Neil Cooney – we learn how Bob would selflessly bring his talents and convictions to bear to oppose fascism, both at home and in Spain, and with increasing vigour, passion and heroism – to say nothing of intense mortal danger.

Bob missed most of the 1931 crisis because his life had entered a new phase. In 1930, he packed in his job as a pawnbroker’s clerk in order to devote himself full time to politics.

It was a brave decision, his new job carried no wages but it did give him an opportunity for further education.

He spent thirteen months during 1931-32 in Russia, studying by day in the Lenin Institute, working by night in a rubber factory.

There he picked up an industrial throat infection and spent some time in a sanatorium. It left him with huskiness in his voice that became part of his oratory. Times were tough in Russia but good in comparative terms with the destitution of the Tsarist era.

Bob found a thirst for knowledge that was infectious throughout Russian society. Even grannies were going back to classes to learn the skills to make their country prosperous. There was even time for a glorious holiday down the Volga. It charged up his batteries for the tasks ahead. He was not short of work when he returned in 1932.

There was a lot of heavy campaigning to do, to mobilise the unemployed and to organise the hunger marches. He travelled from Aberdeen to Glasgow and Edinburgh speaking at open-air meetings to campaign against unemployment, to rally public opinion against the iniquitous Means Test, which robbed the poorest of their Dole as well as their dignity.

Fascists in Aberdeen

Out of the turmoil of the Depression came the strange phenomenon of the British Union of Fascists. Oswald Mosely, its creator, had served in both the Tory and Labour camps before forming his Blackshirts. He was copying the style of Mussolini and was both influenced and funded by Hitler. His area Gauleiter for the North was William Chambers Hunter, a minor laird by inheritance.

He had started off life as plain Willie Jopp but now he had pretensions of power. Aberdeen was targeted as his power base and he recruited and hired thugs from afar afield as London to help him take over the city.

Bob and the others decided to stop him.

There were pitched battles, arrests, fines and imprisonment, but they succeeded. Fascism was not allowed to take root in Aberdeen. Those who deny the free speech of others did not deserve free speech themselves.

Aberdeen has a tradition of fairness. No trumped up laird was going to destroy it. Bob emerged out of these pitched battles as a working class hero. He displayed his undoubted courage as well as his often under-rated organisational skills. It wasn’t enough to stand up to the Fascists, you had to out-think them and outnumber them and run them out of town.

The first Fascist rally organised for the Music Hall, to be addressed by Raven Thomson, Mosely’s Deputy, had to be cancelled half an hour before it was due to start.

The Fascists eyed the Market stance as a key venue. It had become a working class stronghold. The key battle was to take place there.

Chambers Hunter pencilled in the evening of Sunday 16 July 1937 for his big rally. The workers would be caught out on a Sunday in the height of the holiday season. He miscalculated. The grapevine was finely tuned; and Bob addressed a crowd of 2,000 at the Links at 11a.m. They vowed to gather at the Castlegate in the evening. The Fascists duly arrived with their armour-plated van and their police escort, their amplifiers and their heavies.

Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy gave immense aid to the Spanish Fascists

As Chambers Hunter clambered to the roof of the van, the workers surged forward, cut the cables and chased the Fascists for their lives. The Castlegate was cleared by 8 p.m. Bob was one of many arrested, and served four days for his efforts.

A young Ian Campbell, later of folk music fame, remembers sitting on his father’s shoulders watching Bob being carried shoulder high on his release from prison. He also remembers how the crowd went silent as Bob addressed them. It was Bob’s last speech in Aberdeen for a long time because within hours he was on his way to Spain.

In Spain in 1936, the army revolt triggered the Nationalist Right-wing attack on the democratically elected Republican government. Despite the terms of its Covenant, the League of Nations opted for a policy of “Non-Intervention”. Eden and Chamberlain were quick to agree, even though such a policy guaranteed a Franco victory.

It provided a precedent for our later inaction in Austria in the spring of 1938 and Czechoslovakia both in the autumn of 1938 and in the spring of 1939. Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy gave immense aid to the Spanish Fascists. Stalin’s Russia gave much more limited aid to the Republicans. International Brigades of volunteers were also formed to aid the Republic.

The Go-Ahead for Spain

‘And if we live to be a hundred
We’ll have this to be glad about
We went to Spain!
Became the great yesterday
We are part of the great tomorrow
HASTA LA VISTA – MADRID!’

– Bob Cooney

Bob had pleaded for months to go to Spain but the Communist Party kept stalling him, saying he was too valuable at home in the struggle against the Blackshirts.

In the spring of 1937, he set off from Aberdeen but was again stopped by party HQ. It wasn’t until the Castlegate victory that he eventually got the go-ahead from Harry Pollitt, the party’s General Secretary. Bob had argued that he felt hypocritical rallying support for the Spanish people and urging young men and women to go off to Spain to help the cause, and yet do nothing himself. Thoughts of Spain filled every moment of every day – the desire to fight for Spain burned within him. He later reflected that participation in Spain justified his existence on this earth. Spain was the front line again Fascism. It was his duty as a fighter to be there.

Bob was 28 when he left for Spain, getting there via a tortuous route; a tourist ticket to Paris, followed by a bus to Perpignan and then a long trek across the Pyrenees to Barcelona and beyond. He got five weeks basic training at Tarragona, a small town close to the modern resort of Salou.

Bob Cooney, George Fletcher and Peter Kerrigan

There he was given his ill-fitting khaki uniform, strong boots, a Soviet rifle and a food bowl. He was appointed Commissar (motivator) of the training group. He was offered officer’s training but refused. He had promised Harry Pollitt that he was there to fight, not to pick up stripes.
Bob eventually was promoted to the position of Commissar of the XV (British) Brigade. The Brigades were integrated with local Spaniards. Bob, to lead them, had to learn their language. They soon caught on to his wry sense of humour.

His first action was at Belchite, south of the Ebro. He always said he was afraid to be afraid. He told his men never to show fear, they weren’t conscripts, they were comrades and they would look after each other. He had to prevent their bravery descending into bravado. There were some who vowed never to hide from the Fascists and to fight in open country. This would have been suicidal and such romantic notions had to be curbed.

Bob served in two major campaigns. The first was at Teruel, between Valencia and Madrid. The Brigade was drafted in to hold the line there in January 1938. Paul Robeson, the great singer, dropped in to greet them there: Robeson was heavily involved in fund-raising for the Spanish cause. The XV Brigade held their line for seven weeks before Franco’s forces complete with massive aerial power and a huge artillery bombardment forced them back.

Conditions were hard, supply lines were tenuous and the food supply was awful. Half a slice of bread a day was a common ration. His next great battle was along the Ebro from July to October 1938.

On a return sortie to Belchite, organising a controlled retreat through enemy lines, he was captured along with Jim Harkins of Clydebank. Another group on the retreat distracted their captors and Bob and Jim fled for cover. Sadly, Jim later died at the Ebro.

Just over 2,400 joined the Brigades from Britain, 526 were killed, and almost 1,000 were wounded. Of the 476 Scots who took part, 19 came from Aberdeen. The Spanish Civil War claimed the lives of five Aberdonians, Tom Davidson died at Gandesa in April 1937 and the other four at the Ebro. Archie Dewar died in March 1938, Ken Morrice in July 1938, Charles MacLeod in August 1938 and finally Ernie Sim in the last great battle in September 1938.

The final parade of the Brigade was through Barcelona on October 29th. They were addressed by the charismatic Dolores Ibarruri who had been elected Communist MP for the northern mining region of the Asturias: she was affectionately known as La Pasionara. She told them:

“you can go proudly. You are legend. We shall not forget you”.

It had taken the combined cream of the professional forces of Germany, Italy and Spain almost three years to beat them. They had every right to be proud. Barcelona fell to Franco late in January 1939, Madrid falling two months later.

Dont miss the third and final part of Neil Cooney’s account of his Uncle Bob Cooney’s amazing story – when we learn that Bob Cooney has barely time to reflect on the events relating to the Spanish Civil War before joining the fight against Hitler and the Nazis.