An encounter with a War Hero

This is just another little thing showing how far we’ve fallen.  They don’t make them like this anymore.

Some of you may have read my entry about being subjected to an antisemitic seance at Norman ASA, by my then boss who was a disciple of Johan Galtung and in hysterics (literally) over “the Jews”.

This was in 2005. I had travelled to Oslo by train, leaving my car parked at the station in Bø in Telemark.

So on the way home, still a little bewildered by the encounter with an obviously psychotic and malevolent administration, I noticed an old gentleman getting on the train, thin as a reed and ramrod straight. He was lugging a trunk almost bigger than himself.

Back at my home station, this fellow was also getting off, so I asked him if he needed a lift, what with the suitcase that looked like it might be filled with bricks. He accepted the offer, and we stuffed the thing in the back of the car and set off. Turned out, he was doing a family visit to one of my neighbours.  And he had just attended a memorial in Tromsø, being one of a small group of  Norwegian soldiers who finally saw the King (H7) off to England.  He was now living in England, like quite a few of his peers.

Anyway, I drove him to the door and got his luggage wrestled onto the steps, and then something rather remarkable happened.  At the time, I had a bad ulcerization on my right wrist. Now I know that this was a diabetic thing, didn’t know that then, as my physician hadn’t seen fit to suggest anything of the sort.  This old soldier looked at it and asked if I would like him to take it off.  I said sure, not really thinking much about it.   But he just placed his thumb on the place, rubbing very lightly for a  moment, and said “There. Do you have any more”?

I didn’t, so that was that. He went to his relatives, a few days later he had a dowsing session for another of my neighbours and found him a well. And a little later in the year, he died.

And the ulcer, which had been there for months?  Two weeks after the little rub, there was no trace of it.


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