Those who are not familiar with this title may be excused for thinking that it is the name of a circus troupe. After all, in WW1 the Red Baron’s squadron was popularly referred to as The Flying Circus so such an assumption is reasonable.
Those who are familiar with it will know that it was a name given to a group of American airmen fighting with the Chinese forces against the Japanese during and before WW2.
In Australia most knowledge of this group is pretty thin and the full impact of their efforts on the outcome of the Pacific war is largely unknown. Their persistence in the face of impossible odds had a significant impact on the Pacific war in that they kept China fighting and by that means tied up somewhere between 500,000 and 750,000 Japanese troops that would have been otherwise available to fight the allies elsewhere.
The lemon tree has always been part of my life. It is something that mothers sit under; little boys pee on and darling fur babies are buried beside or die under. Couples hold hands in the evening shade and smile and exchange sweet nothings under lemon trees. They are wonderful trees.
They give us joy in their shade; joy in their fruit and comfort in their very existence. They titillate our taste buds, smell magnificent and look somehow comforting. I love lemon trees.
As people all around Australia see a few more dollars in their pay packet, spare a moment to learn how it all began - with a combine harvester.
This week, Australia's minimum wage will increase by 8.6 per cent, and award workers will get a 5.75 per cent pay boost, in a Fair Work Commission (FWC) decision.
The new national minimum wage will be $23.23 per hour, and $882.80 per week, based on a 38-hour week.I wonder how many people know that the concept of a minimum wage began when the Arbitration Court made what became Australia's National Minimum Wage in the Harvester decision of 1907.
Read more: The Sunshine Harvester - the machine whose legacy lives on
The modern phenomenon of ‘woke’ is hard to pin down. Is it a movement, a religion, an attitude, or a lifestyle? Here we offer our own definition that places woke in the broader historical and political story of the West.
We start with a list of attitudinal elements that most people would agree should count as part of woke. In this we are spoiled for choice, with a whole smorgasbord of examples from the personal, political and corporate spheres from which to discern the core elements. Here are our top five:
Today, it is fashionable to be Woke. It is fashionable to be " gay ", " transgender ", " black ", " climate change aware ", vaxxed " and vegan.
Nothing appears to stop these dedicated disciples from following the latest fashion trend of being completely dedicated to being complete dickheads in order to gain approval from the twitter trolls, leftie luvvies and the woke brigade.
If mutilating your teenage body to become accepted is the latest fashion, thousands of young people are jumping on the bandwagon. If gluing yourself to a road will get applause from your online chums, then do it. If blowing up our coal-fired power stations gets you a seat on the tik tok train, then who can blame you? After all, you are simply a dedicated follower of fashion.
This last week has been a very unique time in our nation's history. So many of us have watched in disbelief as elements of the media have taken a defamation case verdict to launch waves of attack against Ben Roberts-Smith - without any criminal charges being laid, let alone conviction recorded.
I have spoken about this publicly, stemming from my first actions in the media now nearly three years ago - calling for these most serious allegations of war crimes, or any incidents on military operations, to be afforded the due process our service personnel respect. Due process that should only ever see such serious allegations tried to the criminal standards of truth beyond reasonable doubt, and in a manner that protects the identities of our service personnel and their families - given the real possibility of reprisals and dangers to them and their families for simply being identified as serving in Afghanistan at a time when it is now under Taliban control.
Read more: Ben Roberts Smith Defamation Case and the Media Chaos
On June 6, 1944, the world witnessed an extraordinary event that changed the course of World War II. Known as the Normandy Landing, or D-Day, it marked the largest amphibious invasion in human history.
The Normandy Landing was the result of months of meticulous planning and preparation by Allied forces. Under the command of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, a multinational coalition consisting of American, British, Canadian, and other Allied troops including Australian, came together to devise an audacious plan. The objective was to establish a foothold in Nazi-occupied France and initiate the liberation of Western Europe.
“I’m sick and tired of hearing Democrats whining about Joe Biden’s age. The man knows how to govern. Just shut up and vote to save Democracy.” — Rob Reiner, Hollywood savant
Perhaps you’re aware that the World Health Organization (WHO) is cooking up a plan to impose its will over all the sovereign nations on this planet in the event of future pandemics. That means, for instance, that the WHO would issue orders to the USA about lockdowns, vaccines, and vaccine passports and we US citizens supposedly would be compelled to follow them.
Meanwhile, big ears had abandoned his fun and was now neatly sitting and staring intently at me, as if waiting for a command, or food. “Looks like he was crossed with a fruit bat with those ears,” I laughed and at that he barked at me, seemingly with indignation, and then took off through the fence and disappeared in the bush. ( re read part 1 )
“Do you think they might want to get rid of that one?” I asked Al as “big ears” vanished into the scrub.
Why did I bother with that question? I certainly did not drive all that way looking for a dog. I wanted a 3/4 inch adjustable reamer, an object of beautiful steel precision. Besides, I had absolutely nothing for a dog. And, the cost of keeping a dog was...well…expensive! My dear Mother reckoned my Father spent more on his dog’s vet fees than both of them did on doctors—and they were both in their eighties.
I grew up in a small rural community in the hills of New Zealand. My early life was shrouded in mist and the ever-present wind that pummeled our hilltop community and we loved every wet windy second. So much so that even today, all these decades later, my definition of a perfect day is a misty drizzly soggy one where I can snuggle down and take life off the hook and feel perfectly justified in being a sloth.
As kids, we roamed the paddocks, built campfires and fought incredible wars.
Read more: Trench Warfare. Pinecones and Pantry Raids for Rice
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