They say our bombers will be up again tonight.
Last night they dropped 10,000 tons of TNT,
destroying, among other things,
a number of public buildings which,
according to the government, were of little use
and which will be replaced with luxury accommodation.
Work is already underway to clear the bomb-sites.
There were casualties, of course. Most people
made it to the shelters, although many of the elderly and infirm
chose to stay put and take their chance, knowing that
in an England fit for billionaires there’d be no place for them.
We may never know how many didn’t make it.
They’ll be forever in our thoughts.
The Prime Minister made a speech last night.
We all gathered, wrapped in blankets, round our wireless sets.
He told us the war must go on and how our troops
have made fast progress through the villages of the South and how
special forces have blown up a number of bridges
built between communities in the Northern provinces.
They have also laid mines on the beaches
to deter holiday-makers and prevent work-shy foreigners
and unspecified terrorists from entering the country
in rubber dinghies. Plans are afoot to recruit old men and boys
into Local Defence Volunteer Battalions
to patrol the streets, to hunt down woke pacifists,
environmental activists, trade unionists and the like,
to guard the polling-stations and check the papers of the under-50s.
He warned us to take no notice of those who insist
on speaking out and who claim the war to be madness.
They are traitors, Quislings, fifth columnists, he said.
They have no respect for the dead. We must never forget, he said, that
as we once defeated the Nazis, so can we defeat ourselves.
Dick Callum
Picture Nick Victor