So it's Christmas, and a bit of a weird one, so I want to tell you about a surprise Christmas present and the kindness of Twitter and total strangers on the other side of Europe that helped make it happen. 🎄🎄
Ten years ago, as relative newly weds, my wife and I had a lovely holiday in Croatia.
During that, we visited an amazing small museum (I do love a small museum): The Museum of Ancient Glass.
Amazing displays and THEY STILL MADE GLASSWARE THE OLD WAY!
We bought two glasses.
Now over the years, they got chipped and broken.
So I decided, as a present for my wife, to order some news ones for Christmas.
This turned out to be somewhat harder than expected.
Because: small museum.
No English website.
No online shop.
I did find contact details on Facebook. So I reached out on Twitter to find a Croatian speaker.
This is hard without giving the game away when your wife FOLLOWS you (hello wife!).
I'd hoped for help writing an email. He offered to call them.
YAY! He helpfully explained the situation to the museum, who were keen to help.
But... More problems. They had no way of taking payments over the phone, or online, or really... Well, doing anything other than onsite sales during opening hours.
And Đulijano doesn't live in Zadar
Enter our second, unnamed hero. A friend of Đulijano who lived in Zadar.
Someone who agreed to help an utterly random man in a country the other side of Europe buy some wine glasses.
Our unnamed hero took time one day, after work, to rush over to the museum before it closes. Got photos of the stock, sent them to Đulijano, who sent them to me.
I confirmed the choice, and then he went back the next day and bought them.
WITH HIS OWN MONEY
FOR A STRANGER
I'd offered to send cash in advance. They said not to worry. Sort it at the end.
And despite pressures of life and work and pandemics and everything, they got the wine glasses, packaged them up carefully and posted then off.
Then gave me the receipts and I paid.
And then the wait began.
And it was a long wait. Because COVID. And borders. And busy postal services.
And I worried.
I thought they wouldn't get here.
AND THEN THEY ARRIVED ON THE 23RD DECEMBER!
And they were intact, because of the loving care with which they were packed.
So this thread is a public thank you to Đulijano and our unnamed hero, for helping make a Christmas where we're trapped in London a bit special.
But I also wanted to do it because, especially right now, it is easy to think that Twitter is always terrible. That people are rubbish more often than they are not.
But it's not true. Because bad is loud, and good is quiet.
Don't ever forget that.
Merry Christmas everyone ♥️🎄
UPDATE:
Đulijano has confirmed our unknown hero is called Patrik, so happy to name him now!
There's a bit in Spike Milligan's memoirs where he talks about two fellow gunners who, after a brutal few months in the line, went a bit too mad on leave. Got too drunk in Alexandria overstayed their pass.
On their return, they were hauled in front of Major Chatterjack...
"Well gentlemen," The Major says to the two men now under escort by MPs and up on a serious charge, "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"We was pissed sir."
"Such honesty cannot go unrewarded." Chatterjack said instantly. "Case dismissed."
Great example of how a good officer knows when to enforce the letter of the law, and when to judge that your men have been pushed to breaking point, not broken, and need to be cut a break of their own.
There was a reason they all loved him as an officer.
Currently watching R V Jones teach kids in a Christmaws Lecture how maths was used to both direct bombers, and thwart them in WW2.
At NO POINT has he mentioned that he was the chap who literally worked out whole chunks of this. To them he's just a jovial maths professor.
If you know his professional history, and his critical role in British aerial warfare in WW2, this whole lecture is just fascinating on a whole other level.
I wonder how many people in that lecture hall knew.
He's just casually brought up Squadron Leader Micky Martin (who flew 'Popsie' against the Möhne).
Martin's now casually explaining to kids how you blow up a dam with maths and triangles.
I'm fascinated by how military history shapes language in ways we don't spot. Mostly navy in the UK but army too.
E.g.
Stop and ask yourself: why do so many British football clubs have a Kop end?
Let's talk Boer War battles, Jack the Ripper, Gandhi, Churchill and football /1
Let's start where this begins. January 1900. Second Boer War in South Africa.
Britain is fighting the Orange Free State and Transvaal. It's all very 'late Empire'. Grim. Bloody. Atrocities on both sides. "It'll be over by Christmas". Weapons making old tactics outdated. etc.
In fact, one reason the whole "lions led by donkeys"/Blackadder image of WW1 is wrong about THAT conflict is because the army learns from the Boer Wars, which ARE like that.
Lots of bad British generals doing generally bad things, while junior commanders try to save the day.
You can probably imagine how well Monty reacted to that. But Monty was utterly focused on Market Garden (somewhat understandably) and hadn't spotted how dire the supply situation was.
Luckily Ramsay, the greatest logistician of WW2, did. And realised someone needed to step in.
Eisenhower too realised the danger once it was highlighted, and ordered Monty to divert some focus.
To say Ramsay was off of Monty's Xmas card list after that would be something of an understatement.
So the state (rightly) has to decide, in some way, what makes a kid rich and a kid poor.
You'd think that's straight forward in theory. But it turns out that poverty is like that (almost certainly apocryphal) French judicial definition of porn:
"You know it when you see it."
But of course you can't build a grant/loan system based on "know it when you see it". You need written rules. To keep things fair. In theory.