The younger generation, and even the generation that follows it, is often dismissed as soft and not half the men their fathers were. British Second World War commanders often lamented that their troops were nothing like as tough as the men they had led as junior officers during the First World War. Perhaps what they really meant was the men were less docile and deferential. Most of the guys in the frontline had been brought up at the hard edge of The Depression and not a few had lost their fathers in the First War. They were just as tough but possibly a bit cannier than their fathers. For about a decade the youngsters joining the 21st Century British Army's infantry battalions went in knowing they would almost certainly see action - either Iraq or Afghanistan. The almost certainty of combat was not true for the vast majority of men who joined up during the Cold War. Few would say the fresh generations failed to rise to the challenge - despite stories that they had to do their basic instruction wearing training shoes because their feet were too soft for boots.

Once long ago in a Highland town far away there was a kindly police sergeant. On the day he retired he decided to pass on his favourite truncheon to his prodigy. The main reason it was his favourite truncheon was because it was far heavier than regulation. And a heavier truncheon breaks skulls and arms more efficiently than a standard weight one. This extra heft was created by drilling out the core of the truncheon and filling it with molten lead. Maybe lead from the local newspaper's Linotype machines. I suppose the trick was knowing how much of the truncheon core to gouge out. A good police officer wouldn't want their lead bar disguised as a truncheon to splinter apart when applied to a bad guy's upper arm.

In the early 1980s I visited a US minesweeper tied up at Invergordon. All the guys swabbing the decks were black. There were no black faces on the bridge or in the weapons control suite. Move forward to Kandahar International Airport in 2002. Lots of black faces among the US support troops but when I was corralled with a 100 strong rifle company from the 101st Airborne, I don't think I saw a single black face and only a sprinkling of Hispanic looking guys. I recently read two American books which featured photos of 30 strong platoons from elite units and only noticed two or three black faces. Does this strike anyone else as odd?

When I was a wee boy my grandparents' home was broken into. Actually it was broken into several times but this is the one I remember. I was there when a detective showed up to investigate. He wore a sheepskin jacket. I hadn't seen many of them. But even more impressive was how he was treated. The adults all showed great respect to the detective. This, I decided, was what I wanted to be when I grew up - a man who got respect. Catching bad guys might be interesting too. Sadly, it was not to be. When I left school there was still a minimum height for joining the constabulary and I came up short. Of course, all the adults in that room that day probably wondered how a detective constable could afford a sheepskin coat. I suspect the respect that impressed me was purely superficial. But as a wee boy I was fooled.

Two people were murdered in my neighbourhood within the space of three or four days recently. But if I relied on the state-funded CBC radio news I wouldn't have known. Not a word did I hear about either killing. But I do know from the vapid banter engaged in just before the news bulletins what the presenters' favourite snacks are or whether they prefer cats or dogs. I suppose brainless chatter is cheaper to produce than news. Should I be forced to pay for this via my taxes? The alternative is one of the privately owned radio stations but I can't stomach the constant Looney Right propaganda. If the provincial government announced everyone with a family name ending in a vowel was being fed I to a woodchipper these guys would report it without any questions or an interview with someone who didn't think it was a good idea.