IT wouldn’t be a national emergency if Britain didn’t get misty-eyed about World War Two. Here’s how we’re shoehorning memories of clobbering Hitler into 2021:
Joining the Jabs Army
The Sun’s campaign to recruit vaccine volunteers has been named after Dad’s Army, our nation’s finest sitcom hour. And, like Dad’s Army, Britain’s battle against the pandemic will be remembered as an absolute joke that’s only funny if you weren’t there.
Following a Churchillian leader
Johnson believes himself the heir to Churchill, though events don’t bear this out. The only way he’ll follow in his idol’s footsteps in that one day a statue of him will be graffitied by protestors and the right-wing media will perform a little dance of patriotic outrage.
Pretending the virus is an invader
Newspapers talk about the virus like Covid-19 wears little steel helmets and goose-steps its way up your nose. And given how we tried to put Union Jacks on vaccine vials, it’s only a matter of time until the injection syringes are made to look like Spitfires.
Indulging in misplaced jingoism
Government ministers are falling over themselves to claim our vaccination programme is the best in the world. Strangely, they’re less forward in comparing our world-beating death toll to other countries. It’s as if our uniquely British strategy of ‘taking it on the chin’ was a disaster.
Worshipping Captain Tom
The epitome of World War Two nostalgia has been dragging Captain Tom out of retirement for one last bash at saving Blighty. When we next host the Olympics the opening ceremony will be a fleet of drones depicting him getting Hitler and Covid-19 in a headlock, which is essentially what happened and anyone who says otherwise is a traitor.
