Monday, April 2, 2012
1982: Nothing worth crying for
So, 30 years ag0 about now, I was just about to worry about conscription.
When the Falklands War began it didn't seem like much. But over the coming weeks when it escalated and talk became more serious, I was genuinely concerned that I might get called up.
I was just about to turn 17, and therefore ripe for the picking. I was living with my aunt and uncle at the time, a mismatched pair but with a great sense of humour, who loved nothing more than to tease me that if it happened I'd probably be on latrine duty. As grim as this sounded, at least I wouldn't be on the frontline. I wouldn't have lasted five minutes back then. Not sure I would now to be honest.
Never having lived through any kind of war, this was my first taste of what it might be like. Though it seemed remote, it was all-consuming. That said, I had other fish to fry, like music, mainly.
I was secret fan of this Buck's Fizz number, a much-derided band among my age group then as now, but there's no denying they had some stonking hits, and you can't beat a bit of Jay Aston. Whenever I hear this, I think of sunshine and war. What a combination.