Failed prototype. I am scheduled to be decommissioned in the near future.

Lewes, England
Joined May 2012
This is a wonderful story with a perfect ending.
June 6, 1944. An American paratrooper jumps into Normandy in the dark and lands on the roof of a church. By the end of the war he had been declared dead, held a funeral he didn't attend, escaped the Nazis, and fought his way toward Berlin in a Soviet tank unit. His name was Joseph Beyrle. He's believed to be the only American soldier to serve in both the US Army and the Red Army during World War Two. Beyrle was from Muskegon, Michigan. He joined the 101st Airborne, the Screaming Eagles. His buddies called him Jumpin' Joe. On D-Day night his plane was hit by flak and he jumped early. He came down on a church roof, slid off, and lost his unit in the chaos. For a few days he fought on his own, blowing up a power station and cutting German communications. Then he was captured. Here's where it gets strange. A German soldier ended up wearing Beyrle's uniform and dog tags. That German was killed. When the body was found, the Americans identified it as Joseph Beyrle. The army told his parents their son was dead. His hometown held a funeral mass for him. His obituary ran in the local paper. Meanwhile, he was very much alive, being moved from one German prison camp to another. He escaped more than once. One time he and two other prisoners jumped off a train heading east. They thought they were heading for Russia and freedom. They got lost and ended up in Berlin, where they were caught by the Gestapo, beaten, and tortured. In January 1945, from a camp in eastern Germany, he finally made a clean escape. He went east, toward the gunfire. Toward the Soviets. When he found a Soviet tank unit, he walked out with his hands up, holding a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes, and shouted the only Russian he knew. American comrade. It worked. He asked to join them. And they said yes. For about a month, an American paratrooper rode with Soviet tank crews as they pushed toward Germany. He used his demolition training. He fought. He was reportedly welcomed by a Soviet officer who was one of the rare women commanding a tank battalion. Then a German dive bomber attacked. Beyrle was badly wounded. He was evacuated to a Soviet hospital. Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov reportedly visited, heard his story, and gave him papers to get to the American embassy in Moscow. When he showed up, the embassy didn't believe him. As far as the US was concerned, Joseph Beyrle was dead. They held him under guard until his fingerprints proved who he was. He made it home to Michigan in April 1945. In 1946 he got married. In the same church where they'd held his funeral. Decades later, in 1994, he was honored at the White House by President Bill Clinton and Russian President Boris Yeltsin for serving both countries. And the last twist. His son, Joseph Beyrle II, grew up to become the United States Ambassador to Russia.
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This is a big story with far-reaching implications. Serbia's Vučić has been depicted as a Putinesque figure, running a hybrid democracy, but he has conceded defeat to an anti-corruption protest movement, which grew in response to the Novi Sad tragedy. bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cw5y…
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Some many films set in the past have jarring anachronisms that make it hard to suspend one's one's disbelief, so it was a joy to see Fatherland this evening. Beautifully filmed in b&w, it said far more in its 82 minutes that certain other directors manage in 180.
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These sorts of yucky articles seem to be a bit of a craze in the broadsheets. Am I absurdly old-fashioned for believing that fidelity is far better than the pursuit of ephemeral thrills?
Can ‘one-way monogamy’ work? Find out what happened when relationship therapist Courtney Boyer opened her marriage.

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Hailsham isn't a very nice place, but it does have a fine chimney. I'm glad that Fred Dibnah didn't live locally.
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They have salmon-flavoured crisps in Moldova.
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I've just received my Ancestry DNA update. I'm at least 99% English. I defy anyone to find a duller profile than mine.
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The old "So near and yet so far" cliché has never felt truer. Ukraine is just behind me, but crossing the border isn't a simple business. It's hard to imagine that I'm looking at a country that's fighting for its very existence, but even here, stray missiles have landed.
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While all the attention will be on Jeffrey Archer, I hope the obituary pages will also make room for the composer George Fenton, who died today. His score for Charles Sturridge's masterful adaptation of Evelyn Waugh's 'A Handful of Dust' is truly magical: youtu.be/tBzMb0Mgu5I?si=WTSD…
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I'm not a betting man, put I'd put good money on the likelihood that hardly anybody has heard of the Dutch composer Carel Anton Fodor. He was a contemporary of Beethoven and his 4th Symphony is, I think, quite wonderful: open.spotify.com/track/55mA0…
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I know they mean well, but it's bad enough losing our cat without getting drivel like this from the local vet.
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Saw this last night. Saoirse Ronan and the two child leads were great, but the film is a 6/10 at best. So many "comedy dramas" can't decide whether they're ultimately a comedy or a drama, and end up being neither. However, many people in my audience were roaring with laughter.
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10 things I dislike that other people love: 1. Coffee shops 2. Withnail and I 3. Musicals 4. Sport 5. Reality TV shows 6. That soppy poem about death 7. Mockney accents 8. Short trousers for men 9. Serving hot drinks in glasses 10. Mahler Is there anyone I haven't alienated?
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One of Mitchell and Webb's funniest sketches has been removed from the BBC iPlayer, along with several others, because "they no longer work today." A level of censorship this Orwellian suggests that the BBC is now beyond being saved. youtu.be/6jzo6B34GWI?si=ImbE…
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The Brighton Argus doesn't just give attention-grabbing headlines, but also valuable insights from its readers. What a time to be alive!
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In response to concerns about AI, the Brighton and Hove Argus seems to be doing a pioneering trial of artificial unintelligence. I can't believe that a journalist would write anything as crass and uninformative as these headlines.
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Every time I've watched the latest installment of the Seven Up documentary series, I've forgotten that this bloke is in it. Is there something unmemorable about him, or do I have an inexplicable blind spot?
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Someone's just followed me on Instagram. This gets an instant block.
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These vans used to be everywhere and I always wondered who Clancy and Docwra were. Now they've changed colour, with just 'Clancy' on them, and I find myself worrying about what's happened to Docwra.
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This is one of the Mayor of London's many contributions to the decline and fall of Western civilisation. Others include the awful medley of techno anthems and autotune pop hits that accompanies the New Year fireworks. When you appeal to the lowest common denominator, you're lost.
London's Fourth Plinth is one of the most exciting public art commissions in the world. Today we welcome ‘Lady in Blue’ by @Tschababala Self - a symbol of confidence and purpose and an excellent addition to Trafalgar Square
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