One does long to love the French as much as one loves their food and their countryside, but they don’t make it easy. The Telegraph reports that French bureaucrats (and it is no coincidence that the very word comes from the French for a desk or office) are making it difficult for English D-Day veterans to revisit the beaches on which their comrades’ blood was shed to save France in June 1944. As one of them says:
We didn’t need to fill in a load of paperwork last time I landed in Normandy. In fact, I didn’t even need my passport.
This conflict between wartime veterans and officialdom reminds me of the story of the American commercial pilot of some time ago, who fell into an altercation with a German air traffic controller:
“Haf you not been to Frankfurt before?”
“Yes, twice, in 1945. But it was dark, and I didn’t stop”