My Rant About The Thurrock Council And All Things Government

I don't normally like to post about myself, or currents events, I tend to stick towards my favourite history subjects, but I've run out of them for the moment, anyways I'm thoroughly disgusted with our government here in the UK, I mean they really suck ass, if you ask me, we've been waiting on the Thurrock Council, to sort out just about everything in our house that's been wrong for the past 10 years or more since we moved here, to the Tilbury area, we've got major mould problems which probably doesn't help with all of the health problems that all my family member's have, and that includes me, we have a huge hole in the ceiling in my parents bedroom, and when in rains heavy it comes through the ceiling, we have to put a bowl underneath it, though the first time it happened my dad didn't figure it out until he went to bed, he had to turn over the mattress because it had completely ruined my parents memory foam mattress, which they had to get in the first place because it's the only one my mum find's soft enough to lay on because of her bad back, she had an operation done on it years ago, and she now has metal clip things in her back, he even shoved the bed completely towards the front of the room, and flip the mattress over, and he had work at like 7am the next morning as well, anyway we've also got windows that don't shut, we really need a new boiler in my sister's bedroom, which is where it's located, plus there's a window in my parents bedroom that's buggered, there's a hole in the wall in mine and my older sister's bedroom, so it get's really cold in there, we have a faulty heating fan in the bathroom, which only stays on for like 10 to 20 seconds before it decides to cut out, the council are supposed to be putting in two extractor fans from the outside which they still haven't done, they were supposed to come back and put up a small scaffolding to sort out the hole in the roof, where the rain keeps coming in, and last christmas our entire kitchen cabinet came right off the bleeding wall, and not 10 minutes before it did, my mum was standing out there with our cat Leo, and they could have seriously gotten hurt, as it is, a lot of things got smashed as well, oh and recently the front of our main kitchen draw came off in my mum's hands, so there's that as well, our taps both upstairs and down are both buggered as well, and it's been months since we heard from them, though before we contacted them this year, it had been a whole year since we had heard from them before, which is when we first put in for all these jobs to be fixed, and we put them in with the head guy as well, though I suspect most of the jobs that we need done, aren't being done because of the company that the Thurrock Council, have been using, called: Morrisons, not to be confused with the supermarket that is, apparently this company is really bad, they were mentioned before on one of those tv shows, by the don't get done get Dom guy, about how they were doing half assed jobs and sometimes not even finishing them, anyways enough about this for now, I have to go, I really hope that you enjoyed my rant, and you now have a new perspective on what lying gits the Thurrock Council can be!

Spectator In Hell

A British Soldier's Extraordinary Story

Arthur Dodd was born and raised in the Castle district of Norwich, a small Cheshire town on the River Weaver. His mother's first husband had been killed in the trenches of France during the First World War and had married his father, a regular soldier in the Cheshire Regiment, just after
Armistice Day. Arthur himself arrived on 7th December, 1919.

His father was an austere, distant man. He had served in the Boer war at the turn of the century and
as a sergeant had been captured during the Great War. As a parent, he was distinctly military and
Victorian in his attitude and had little time for Arthur and his younger sister.

At fifteen, Arthur left school and was taken on as an apprentice mechanic at Norwich Transport Company. There he learned to drive and began to understand the mechanics of the internal combustion engine under the watchful, friendly eye of his boss, Harold Isherwood.
For his labours he was paid all of ten shillings (50p) a week, but Arthur had already taken the first steps down the path that would lead him to Auschwitz.

The company owned a Ford People's Popular saloon car, which was used to transport mechanics to
broken-down lorries. Arthur fell in love with it the first time he saw it. It was in this car he had been taught to drive and, having added a year to his age when completing the driving license application form, he passed his test in the early part of 1935. A year later, he repeated the lie and passed his
HGV test.

Those early working days were fun for Arthur. Harold took to the young man and they would often go fishing together in one of the many meres in the Cheshire countryside. Arthur had to serve under
the Articles of Apprenticeship for seven years, but when Harold opened his own transport company
in 1937, he invited Arthur to finish his time with him.

Tempted though he was, ten shillings a week was hardly conducive to living away from home and
Arthur had to decline. His mother, too, was against it, as she was against the transport business in
general. In those days a driver had to find his own consignments and could be away from home for
as long as three weeks at a time.


In Harold's absence, Arthur quickly became bored and began looking for another company to take him on. When he was eighteen he entered the world of scrap, being employed as a driver by Jimmy Caffrey, a well respected, local entrepreneur. Caffrey only had the one vehicle and most of the work
was sub-contracted from the Middlewich Borough Council. Consequently, Arthur was home every night by tea-time and was paid the quite princely sum of £5 a week.