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The Unknown Niggle

by Simeon Carr – Minns

Around the end of August 2001, we were deployed on an Operation called ‘Op Bessemer’to Macedonia as part of a NATO force to intervene in a civil war between Albanian insurgents and the Macedonian government and then to oversee an arms amnesty as part of something drawn up called the ‘Ohrid Agreement’.
Under the terms of the Ohrid Agreement, the Macedonian government agreed to devolve greater political power and cultural recognition to the Albanian minority. The Albanian side agreed to abandon separatist demands and to fully recognise all Macedonian institutions.
Yep, it was fucking boring. Positive but boring.

Around the first week of September on that tour, there was rumour fluttering around that we were to go to a place called Afghanistan. Afghanistan? We thought it must be somewhere near Pakistan. I’d say every last one of my peers were blissfully clueless as to it’s location, political history and the current situation at the time. None of us had ever heard of it before.

Incidentally, as, it transpires, we’ve been meddling with the affairs of that land for 180 years now, as to why next to nothing about that place was ever taught in history or geography in our educational establishments, at least on a Secondary level, speaks volumes to me.

I guess in Victorian times at the height of the British Empire’s powers, the ‘Anglo-Afghan Empire’ must have had an attractive ring to it for our bankers, traders and politicians. (yes, they keep cropping up. It’s not a new thing folks) But the dream of a replica Anglo-Indian Empire, alas for East India Company, the Coffee Houses and such like, was never to be. But hey, we’re still at it. We’re at it big time.

In Jan ’95, after an emotionally turbulent childhood and at the age of 18, I joined the Army. I did it to get away from home. I guess it was a bid to (i) establish my independence and (ii) become a man. You may have noticed two ironies there already; Firstly, as a soldier, you are dependent on the Army for everything and secondly, you certainly don’t become your own person! What you become is what they call a lean, green, mean fighting machine….or a sort of cyborg with an operating system installed which is designed to process only one type of software – orders from a ‘superior’…..hilarious. I didn’t know it but this formed part of an internal conflict that was to take me a long time to figure out but it always ran deep. I wasn’t quite mature or emotionally developed enough at the time to recognise what was conflicting what. Plus, I was too busy trying to fit in anyway. Of course, initiative also is essential to playing the role, and instinct is shaped by the repetition of intense training. I did gel in but not without this unknown, niggling conflict in my soul.

My career progressed. I was sent on many courses and got promoted etc I served with a specialist Airborne Unit, the members of which are trained with particular skills such as jumping into areas of battle from an airplane, killing enemy soldiers, long and short range reconnaissance, building temporary bridges, blowing up permanent bridges and railway lines, breaching minefields, demolitions, setting booby-traps, playing around with explosives and much much more. Generally, we provided what’s called battlefield engineering support to the Parachute Regiment Battalions and Special Forces. And these roles were played out in theatres such as Northern Ireland, Angola, Rwanda, Bosnia, Kenya, Kosovo, Sierra Leone, Macedonia, Afghanistan and Iraq….and a few others. I enjoyed my time overall. The physically and mentally tough and active lifestyle along with the ego trip and kudos of being in this particular Unit did have a great appeal to me, I must admit. It certainly provided a strong sense of achievement. Also, I believed I was part of the greater good and doing a great job for the world in general.

We could well have been but this unknown niggle remained, this itch that wouldn’t go away. Lying fast asleep in a derelict, bombed out ex-3 star hotel in Macedonia, on a stuffy afternoon on a green makeshift bed, I was dreaming of being in a hot, stuffy carvery in UK munching away on roast beef and broccoli when a boot lodged itself in my ribs. Some twat who I used to call a mate shouted, “Oi Minnsy, some paki cunts have just flown airplanes into buildings in America! Come and have a look!” “Really,” I mumbled. “Fuck off” I mumbled again. I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I later awoke, there was a buzz among the blokes and an air of incredulity and astonishment. “So fucking what?” I remember thinking. “What’s it got to do with us?”

The signals blokes had set up sky on a big screen in the dining hall. Upon that screen where the most astounding images of the some big buildings apparently called the World Trade Center, undergoing what to my experience looked very much like a controlled demolition. (But that’s for another chapter). It seemed like moments later when some blithering buffoon, some purdy-mouthed skeeder by the name of George ‘Dubya’ Bush was declaring war on….yes, you guessed it….Afghanistan – as well as Iraq. I felt like I’d just swallowed a lump hammer. We already fucking knew it. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And what also disturbed me was that nobody seemed to realise. I didn’t hear a single, “‘ang on a minute”. Incredible. Something began to intensify that niggle. It all seemed very linked.

Of course, soon afterwards came orders for the Deployment of our Squadron with 2 Para on a mission named ‘Operation Fingal’ to Kabul. Soon afterwards, I left the Army and was a civvie trying to what civvies do. (That’s also for another chapter). I was beginning to familiarise myself with a novelty called the internet and Google etc. A while later, as a new convert, I started asking our heavenly father Google some of the questions I had been carrying. The questions that, when posed to anyone I knew, were met with a puzzled or blank stare or a look of obvious concern for my mental well-being. As the numerous shards of bizarre information started to bounce back at me from the screen of Almighty Google and the Holy YouTube, a grainy picture began to emerge. One that I really didn’t like. A strange mixture of feelings began to accompany me; feelings of that niggle slowly subsiding, being satisfied with the hint of answers but being replaced by fear and anger. There was a lot of frightening and outrageous information which I, for my own peace of mind, clearly needed to thoroughly research. I needed a lack of validation to ease my fears. The pile of books, magazines and newspapers began to build beside my desktop pc.

Unfortunately, in the end, the official versions of events were so contradictory and ridiculously contrived, that I decided they were clearly blatant lies. I could not understand at first. But understand, I eventually did and it began to dawn on me. A little bit like Poirot having a dark eureka moment when the revelation of the guilty party, the motive, the execution of the crime and the cover stories all begin to fit together in his little grey cells. I’d begun to see the light. This illumination gives one a new perspective by which one sees the story unravel along the arrow of time with the predictability of an episode of Hollyoaks.

Now, we jump to today and we see one sovereign nation after another has been systematically dismantled using the tools of foreign policy, media, media spin, sanctions, black ops, coups and brute force along with sickening justifications. We have forty-two ‘allied’ military bases strategically based around Iran. This sovereign nation’s invasion has been on the agenda for years. The insidious plan is unfolding just as they want it to. I actually do hope there really are some snooping censorist type scumbags watching or listening to this.

Whether they are not, I hereby nail my colours to a different mast: I AM ABSOLUTELY SICK, TIRED AND DISGUSTED WITH WESTERN FOREIGN POLICY IN ALL AREAS AROUND THE GLOBE!

I don’t swallow the filthy web of putrid lies and shit we are all bombarded with every second of every day regarding the excuses as to why the UK, the U.S. and other G20 countries are bullying and dominating the world – or should I say, the third world; stitching up countries who simply don’t buy into the globalist agenda and in turn, bringing about their downfall. I don’t care who you are, if you try to tell me Iran is a threat to the world and we are the good guys trying to save the world from the evil Iranian madmen with nuclear bombs, you are tragically deluded and severely misinformed.

WHAT I BELIEVE THE MEDIA STILL HAVEN’T TOLD US YET IS THAT WE THE UK, FRANCE, CANADA AND THE U.S. ALREADY HAVE IRAN LINED BY WARSHIPS. We are the aggressors. THOUSANDS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE WILL PROBABLY END UP DYING! SENSATIONALIST? I DON’T THINK SO. SURELY WE CANNOT FORGET THE DIABOLICAL FARCE IN IRAQ AND AFGHANISTAN?

My friends and colleagues and our young service personnel being maimed, young lives being extinguished needlessly and a MILLION civilians dead! Even more loved ones grieving terribly on all sides. All, yes, all for control of fucking oil but excused by utter lies and devious spin.

The media won’t tell you that.

I hope there will be millions of people on the streets of this and every city and town in the UK causing absolute havoc in protest to this, the latest in a gruesome catalogue of abominations to the very essence of humanity by the elite global vampires who think they run the show. We are truly are lead by the least among us – the least intelligent, the least noble, the least visionary. It’s time for everybody to pull their heads out of their arses and DO something.

That something is to take the power back. Stop listening to them and thinking that who you ‘vote’ for will make a scrap of difference. Please open your eyes and see these blatant lies. Take your attention off the cheery faced media people telling you the version of events the government want you to hear whilst we all sleepwalk into hell itself. Instead of sitting there hypnotised by detritus on the TV, act. Think about your children and grandchildren. If there is anything anyone should hate, it’s this hideous system of greed and corruption which drives the machine of war and systematic death and which feeds off the pain of the downtrodden. If you think this is a bit dramatic, I don’t apologise. That’s just how it is.