I met a fellow in the barber shop. He told a story about how a bunch of British guests of his made fun of his accent. He was quite proud of himself when he told how he let it go on for a good long while and then he finally said, "I have just two things to say. First of all, you are in Mississippi so you are the ones with the funny accents now. Second, if it hadn't been for us, you would be speaking German right now."
He related how they all fell silent after that, which he took as a vindication. I wonder.
I have been reading Churchill's History of the Second World War. I am in the middle of the second of six volumes and I finally got tired of waiting for the Americans to come in and looked ahead for our entry. We don't come in till the late in the 3rd volume.
It is humbling. As I read of how the Island stands alone against this monstrous evil while we assume that we are safe. And then, after letting them take all the punishment, we come complimenting ourselves on the great favor we are doing them. I can't help but wonder if the silence of the gentleman's guests was not chagrin but being appalled.
We should never forget that the years that Britain stood alone against the NAZI onslaught, the years immortally described as, "Their finest hour," should be, for us, our greatest shame.