Welshman and the Great Escape

Brave: Great Escape

We have all seen the movie, The Great Escape, and cheered on Steve McQueen's character Hilts as he attempts to sail over barbed wire on a motorbike at the end (though that bit was Hollywood fiction). Certainly I was not alone in feeling a wave of claustrophobia wash over me during the tunnel scenes, as these courageous prisoners of war tunnelled their way to freedom? And who could forget the Gestapo gunning down 50 of the escapees after being told to get out of the truck to "stretch their legs" while on their way back to camp (or so they thought)?
The Great Escape has many memorable scenes and though not all based on fact, helped make it a classic. (It is easily one of Mr Jakes' favourite films). Of course the main story IS very much true and took place 70 years ago on this very day. Of those who broke out, only three reached safety, 73 were recaptured, and 50 shot. Such heroic souls! No finer example of fire in the human spirit, and may they all rest in peace.
In the photograph above, the reader can see Cyncoed~born Brian Evans (left) a Welshman who was part of this historic escape. Sadly Mr Evans was one of those men murdered by Gestapo but it fills me with pride that one of my countrymen is a figure in this glorious tapestry.

Nationalities of the 50 executed prisoners

21 British
6 Canadian
6 Polish
5 Australian
3 South African
2 New Zealanders
2 Norwegian
1 Belgian
1 Czechoslovak
1 Frenchman
1 Greek
1 Lithuanian

Last Of The Dark

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living ~ Cicero

Death has never been a solemn subject to me, it is has never been taboo. It is fact that I have attended more funerals than weddings but not once have I shed a single tear (and these were close family members). Now before I am accused of being "unfeeling", allow me to explain. I have such a strong belief of a sweet Afterlife, I believe we ALL go there, good or bad, that whenever I find myself standing graveside I am so convinced the departed have "ascended to a better place" (to be glib about it) that no sadness will emerge. Not even by force. No amount of pleasant memories, or clenching fists or straining veins will tempt sorrow from its den.
At times I have wondered if I was simply cold or indifferent toward death but as the years turn into sheaths of grey, I realise my emotions are in check, their pulse alive and screaming. I believe. That is as simple as it gets.
Indeed if I was stood before a Judge about to sentence me to death, or a doctor about to deliver my cancer act in deadly script, I would more than likely grin in reply. (Of course I don't know 100% for sure of that smirking reply but I could lay my heart on it being 95% certain). Naturally I am wary of DYING but the actual DEATH part? Im no more afraid of it than razor steel is to flesh. Or a crocodile to butterfly (but I am being blown off course now).
For me, death has no end and therefore no sorrow. My bones might miss the company and mortal flashes of the deceased but I know, nay feel, that as the coffin is being lowered into its earthly haven or obliterated by flame, that the soul of Man is rising like a stunned eagle into realms where even the finest pearls would look as lowly as paupers rags. Shrugging off mortality and disease as it lifts unto the sanctity of unknown. And these brief shards of endless joy penetrate my mind so deeply, embedding themselves like euphoric clots, that sadness is obliterated, unable to bring me to my knees.
I have my humanity, feelings, and good many things will reduce me to tears but weeping for the dead is beyond my hearts grasp. I think too much, believe I even know too much and doubt can never get over the threshold of my imagination/beliefs to even begin to try and shatter these ideas. Of course every man will have weak moments, and being a man prone to sometimes rampant, wild emotion there are often times when all I am able to imagine after my pulse is done is a wall of black, blinding in its finality.

Not often I am happy to report. Often a good dose of Welsh coastal air or the sight of a buzzard hunting for its supper will remedy that.

White Dee: Assassin of DWP

We have a programme here in Britain called "Benefits Street", a cheap and tawdry show (though ive never watched it myself) about the every day lives of lazy good for nothings sucking the country dry by claiming benefits while drinking, thieving and generally dossing around being nothing. There are genuine claimants but these are not them. All they seem to do is hang around a street doing zilch (besides boozing and smoking). Like ive said, I don't watch it but ive read enough in the media to get a general idea of what these people are about: scrounging.
And now would you believe, we seem to have made a celebrity out of one of the morons in it, someone who goes by the name of 'White Dee'. Dear God it sounds like a monicker for an assassin! "Beware the White Dee! Shadowy hitman of the department of work and pensions!"
The odious looking woman is everywhere: radio, papers, television, magazines. Have we gone stark raving mad? Turning a bone idle slob into a celebrity, it boggles the mind it truly does. I realise this world has become obsessed with celebrity but to make one out of some benefit scrounger is lunacy of the highest order. And nothing short of obscene. Is this the way we are heading? Just pluck any old toe rag off the street and make them a star, depressing to think we have sunk this far.
The honest work hunters and genuine disabled ought to be very angry with this oaf, she is exactly the type of person that is giving all the ammunition for welfare cuts because as far as the government is concerned every person on benefits are like her so make no mistake, all of you claimants will suffer.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, should be applauding the awful White Dee. She is a pox on us all.

Have a good day all!

Benefits Street

LBC radio have made me mad this morning (and im usually a fan of the 6am show). They were discussing some ew television programme called 'Benefits Street', but I couldn't take it seriously because the amount of bile spouted forth was ridiculous. And let me first say, I don't claim any benefits so this nonsensical rubbish aimed at benefits claimants by pompous radio presenters shouldn't bother me, but even I can see that not everyone on the dole or on sickness benefit are useless scroungers like the one that sounds like are in Benefits Street. I wouldn't watch such garbage so im only going on what callers to the station said about the show.
I have friends on Twitter (I refuse to call them 'followers') who are genuinely disabled, and shame on anyone who would dare called them feckless scroungers. Dear God, I can feel my blood pressure rising with every word I type. Haven't these journalists heard about the tragic stories of disabled folk who have committed suicide because of these government clamp downs on sickness benefits? They ought to have, they've written the stories. Or do they think so little of them that the tales are forgotten as soon as they are in the paper?
Of course the lead swingers and scroungers exist. One only has to see the scruffy urchins swigging lager at 11am outside Weatherspoons on a week day to have proof of this (and these are not workers having a swift pint). Wherever you turn in life, from top to bottom, you will find chancers and the dishonest. Sadly its human nature. But my friends, its not all, how could it be? I don't know the figures of how many are claiming benefits, but are we seriously suggesting they are all cheating the system? Certain presenters on LBC radio seem to be doing so. Methinks their former tabloid urge to shock has completely taken over the rational part of their brains.
Its not as easy as benefits = cheats and the stories are easy to Google: tragic tales of folk with terminal cancer being forced to work due to ATOS passing them fit, disabled soldiers coming home from Afghanistan being denied Welfare assistance, and even working single mothers having housing benefit stopped because they earn £2 over some limit or other. The list is near endless. Are these feckless scroungers? No! Because not everyone is swinging the lead!
I never once imagined I would be speaking out on this subject, or feel so annoyed by certain attitudes toward it, because as I have pointed out, I do not claim benefits and am not in that 'world' but LBC radio have forced my hand. I cannot stay silent while ignorant bullies in mainstream media trample all over these poor people (the honest claimants not the lager louts). Social media has shown me that there IS an honest side to 'Benefits Street' and we, especially government and journalists, wold be unwise to ignore it. Or worse, label everyone as idle layabouts.

Fern Hill

At 1:49 you will see the esteemed Mr Jakes reading a line from Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas for the 100 year anniversary. Diolch/Thanks for watching, it was an honour to take part.

Local Christmas Events

Courtesy of Ava McGill (Pembrey & Burry Port Community forum (Facebook)


Without wanting to sound all "Bah Humbug" I was beginning to think that the Christmas spirit had been lost (reading too many Daily Mail stories about the PC brigade banning Christmas trees or hooligans thieving from charity buckets will do that to you). But Facebook of all things has restored my faith in the silly season. There are some wonderful events happening all over Carmarthenshire and Pembrokeshire over the next few weeks, and seeing photos of the Burry Port Christmas market yesterday on the old chopsbook (that could be a Welsh version of Facebook) was great.

Fancy experiencing some local festive fun? Visiting west Wales and want to see how locals roll? (I believe that's what hip Americans say). Allow Mr Jakes to point you in the right direction (and the following events are just a handful of whats going down, there is much much more (check local event listings such as our friends Best of Carmarthenshire website).


11 December: Christmas fayre at Picton Centre (Picton centre, Haverfordwest)

14 December: Narberth winter carnival

14 December: Christmas Fayre Llandovery

16 December: Christmas Fair - Mynydd y Garreg (lifelong home of rugby legend Ray Gravelle)

18 December: Christmas Concert in Nantgaredig

18 December: Christmas Concert in Glangwili (to raise funds for the neonatal unit at hospital)

A Knight Of Our Times

Suits you Sir!

Today we learn that David Beckham could be Knighted. Arise SirDai Beckham! (Briefly dreams of LordDai Jakes). One might say its less LordHaw Haw but more Sir Ha Ha? Okay, rubbish jokes aside, why the surprise? Did we not all see it coming? The venerable *coughs* Mr Jakes certainly did. This is my friends is very much a Knighthood of our times. Its perfect for our new age culture of celebrity, a natural progression. Most people these days worship television and the fame it bestows on its vacuous 'victims', and Beckham, even though I happen to like the man, is king of this. They might as well make it official. I can certainly think of worse people to give a gong. Dame Katie Price anyone?
David has done a ton of good work for charity, and love him or loathe him, he is a good role model for our youngsters. There have been some real disaster stories coming from the world of sport, football especially, but the boy Dave done good. I don't understand folk saying he shouldn't be Knighted because he spends most of his time in America either. Are we not all free to live wherever we like? I didn't realise that if I was made SirDai Jakes (dreaming again) I would have to be permanently based in Britain. Does Sir Paul McCartney live in the UK? (And not being a Beatle fan, I actually had to Google to see if he was a Sir or not). It would be a petty reason not to award someone a gong in my humble opinion. But then David Beckham has had to put up with this kind of garbage for a while now, envy mostly from people who are quite content sitting in an anonymous den typing spiteful bilge online.
Listen, I will happily admit there are more deserving 'unknowns' who will never be recognised for their good deeds toward good causes and their fellow man, and if it were up to me they would all be Knighted but such is life. Its not perfect, and like I have said, is Sir Beckham so bad? At least he's not falling out of a nightclub at 4am, drugged out of his eyeballs, or chasing women old enough to be his grandmother (not that that is necessarily a bad thing *laughs*).
Want to know something else? As a guy who has tattoos himself, I think its kinda cool to be getting a Knight with arms covered in ink. Feels like the outlaws have invaded the Palace! Or at least become accepted as not only prisoners and sailors get tattooed. Better not show them to Her Maj though eh.
I bet Victoria B is over the moon at the prospect of hubby becoming a Knight of the Realm (although it is not a done deal yet). I can see it now:, Lady Beckham handbags and gladrags with emphasis on the 'Lady' part. She'll make the title hip or sick, or whatever words the trendy kids are using these days. Oh and look on the bright side, at least it removes, or should, the last vestiges of any possibility that the Spice Girls will ever get back together. Cin Cin!