It was with great relief and joy that Boris and the lads in Downing Street welcomed the demise of England’s favourite flower, no not Phillip Schofield – the English rose, Dame Vera Lynn. A much needed fillip to distract from their dismal, incompetent and malfeasant leadership throughout the COVID-19 pandemic.
It was also with great relief and joy that Andrew Bailey in Threadneedle Street welcomed the news of the demise of one Irish Republican, Bobby Storey.
Vera, having sang her way through the war years brought comfort to many down in the air raid shelters during the Nazi blitz. Fondly remembered by ‘the Nation’, that is, those still alive which constitutes only Captain Tom, really, Vera passed away to join her fans and bring forth her prophesy of meeting them again - much to their delight I’m sure!
Bobby, having spent most of his war years incarcerated at Her Majesty’s pleasure, brought little comfort to many during the IRA’s blitz on Belfast and London. Grimly remembered by Vera’s nation, that is, those still alive, which constitutes the whole Nation actually, including Captain Tom, Bobby passed away not on the field of battle but ignominiously on a British NHS operating table.
Vera, whose portrait once adorned a postage stamp, while Bobby, whose portrait once adorned a post office wall, will both be lovingly laid to rest by their remaining friends and family.
Vera’s funeral service will be conducted with decorum, civility, and stately etiquette becoming of one so much admired and respected. Her final resting place may very well be that her ashes are decorously scattered over those White Cliffs of Dover, she lovingly once sang about, with Spitties doing a flyover.
While Bobby, will be buried with a final pretentious show of defiance against the Brits but not too ostentatious as to upset his new friends in the PSNI and who most likely will pay their own respects to the Big Man on the day by taking control of traffic duties.
As the cortege makes it way slowly towards Milltown cemetery, decorum, civility and stately etiquette will be replaced by a jostling of egos for positioning in the public eye. Laid to rest in the Republican plot in said cemetery, Bobby can explain to his pre-deceased comrades how in his later days he came to support Britain’s occupation of Ireland.
Both iconic in their own worlds:
Vera’s legacy of icon of the free and once reaching out to a whole Island nation but never further afield to the colonies, has long since been swallowed up by the affirmation of Britain’s tyrannical past.
While Bobby’s legacy of iconic freedom fighter - and once reaching out from the Park Centre to Kennedy Way - will be swallowed up in the internal turmoil to fill his much sought after post he held in his not so rebellious but more acquiescent later days.
And so it is with a mixture of both fond farewell and good riddance we take our leave of Vera Lynn and Bobby Storey. Both combatants in different wars. One who sang while the other bombed and shot, for hope and glory and yet both died on the same side of different freedoms!