C rang yesterday and spoke to R, his father and step-mother. He is at the front and again can't say where. Thank God he was safe and hopefully still is.
One of the perks of being a temporary invalid is being spoilt by friends and family, and had a lovely time yesterday being whizzed up to London by my glamorous cousin in her cute sports car. We laughed and giggled and talked about our mothers (who were sisters and extremely complex) and for a while it was like being young again. I lurched along Kensington High St on my sticks and we met her adorable son in a bar and then lit candles in the church on our way back to the car. Then I was home and back to reality.
The thing about the war in Afghanistan is that no one knows or understands what it's for. People say to me 'what does you son do?' and I reply he's a soldier in Afganistan and they invariably come back with 'yes, but what does he do', and the truth is I don't really know. The Army have a policy called 'Hearts and Minds' - meaning if you woo the indigineous poeple with positive examples of western philanthropy then they will turn against the insurgents. Well at least I think that's what it means. Trouble is war is not an exact science and so NATO has tragically had several failed missions which have killed innocents and consequently played straight into the Talliban's hand.
Had such a wonderful start to the day today. I have been given permission to open C's mail - not, of course, in an official manner with organisations contacted and Power of Attorney drawn up - more on a 'Ma if I get any post would you mind opening it for me?' kind of a way. So when a letter marked ominously in bold black capitals 'THIS IS NOT A CIRCULAR' arrived on my doormat I opened it immediately. C inherited my late mother's old Volkswagen Golf, and for some time it has been off the road, SWORN declaration in tact, sitting in my garage. And that should be the end of the matter except the DVLA in it's wisdom has obviously chosen not to process the request correctly, and so has handed the collection of non-payment of vehicle road tax over to a firm of Bailiffs in the North East of England. I cannot describe how I felt to read the letter threatening all sorts of fines, penalties, court proceedings leading to increased fines of up to £1000 and also retrieval of goods.
I rang the 24hr telephone 'helpline', and sat for 29 minutes on an automated switchboard wondering what the fatality rate was for use of such electronic technology. After 6 minutes of some wretched autmatum telling me in its best Stephen Hawkin that I was next to be answered I was not best pleased. The poor young geordie girl was most embarrassed and stumbled with her words when I vented spleen and asked her how they planned to contact my son to receive the £80 fine when he was rather busy at the moment somewhere unknown, close to enemy lines in Afghaistan? And that if they did in fact take him to court wouldn't that look impressive 'Serving soldier taken to court because of yet another Swansea blunder'. She assured me he would not be summoned but that until the DVLA authorise them to stop, the letters will continue. Of course, can I find the documents? They're probably in the barracks in Edinburgh - so because someone working for a government institution has failed to do their job properly we have yet more hassle - and be warned a friend told me the same happened to her, and the DVLA had even sent a refund on her old licence.
Apparently some guy went into Halfords to buy spray paint the colour of Afghan sand for his son to effectively camouflage his equipment. What have we come to.
Found a remedy for staring into the black. sleepless abyss - keep the light on. Just like a child I slept because I wasn't cocooned in darkness.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum
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