Alison (my wife) can be a little impetuous at times. Like the time recently when she rushed out and bought a second-hand mountain bike for son Oliver only to discover a few days later that it was a complete pup. Fortunately we recovered the cost and have since spent twice as much on a brand new Felt bike which is very good and being much enjoyed by the slothful youth. (Or is it youthful sloth?) Or when she succumbed to daughterly pressure and took the 13 year old to the ear-piercing parlour after I thought we had agreed she should wait. But the really sneaky move was pruning our lovely Smoke Bush (well it’s actually a tree now) early one morning without telling me. The limb reduction was needed, but it might have been more prudent to wait until the winter when the sap was flowing less energetically. Since her brutal assault more branches have curled up and the beautiful tree has taken on a somewhat careworn look. Dwarfed as it is by two enormous sycamores and a large ash it is somewhat misshapen anyway as it grapples for its own fresh space and sunlight. Like so many untended and unloved shrubs and bushes in our previously overgrown garden it has been allowed to swell and grow into cherry tree size when it should only be a handsome bush with a spectacular variety of colours and displays throughout the year. I have hacked back numerous other bushes, which have responded well by sprouting new branches lower down, but with an eight inch thick trunk growing up to twenty five feet, I fear the Smokey has gone beyond such cavalier treatment. It will be interesting now to see how many more branches give up the will to live. It may be that the whole thing will decide to die back anyway, in which case we may yet end up with a shrub once again, albeit one with an enormous main stem!
I had a boss once in my Army Air Corps days who acted first and thought afterwards. (Although I fear the second part was sometimes missing). He believed that instant decision making was an essential part of good leadership. At times it is, but I believe there are other occasions when a little pre-meditation doesn’t go amiss. To say he was hung-ho would be to under-estimate his impetuosity. On one occasion we were flying our helicopters back from Northern Ireland to our base in Germany, via a pit stop at Netheravon in Wiltshire. He was leading the four ship formation in a twin-engined Lynx, with a flight commander on either side in single-engined Gazelles and me at the back of the diamond formation in another Lynx. When flying in formation, it’s the Leader’s job to navigate and set the course, while the rest just follow his lead, making sure they don’t fly into each other. If the Leader flies into a hill, the rest will follow! We were only cleared for VFR or Visual Flight Rules, in other words we had to maintain visual contact with the ground. Somewhere over the Irish Channel, he lead us into thick cloud. It was an incredibly dangerous situation which should never have happened and his cavalier attitude could have killed us all. Fortunately the two wing men were experienced aviators and they immediately peeled off left and right and called up Ulster Radar for a radar controlled descent, which they both achieved without mishap. The Lynx is better equipped for instrument flying and I maintained my height, speed and heading until we popped out of the cloud and I could see our “Leader” some way ahead. We all made our way individually to Netheravon where his wife met us with a picnic. He was totally unconcerned, as if almost unaware of the mayhem behind that was totally his responsibility. He was an experienced flyer, having previously been leader of The Blue Eagles, The Corps’ Display Team. To this day I can’t believe it actually happened.
The ability to make quick decisions can often be a lifesaver….but not always.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 