Just an ordinary day in Northern California. I was running an errand for my neighbour this afternoon, picking up a prescription for her. Jauntily drove to the nearest town with the knowledge that I was doing a Good Thing; surely nothing could puncture this mood and deflate me. As often happens, we can become embroiled in others' stuff, and this is what happened to me today.
Exhibit One was a guy in his later years, wearing a Vietnam Vet cap and an urban camo jacket, behind me in the queue for the pharmacy. Hearing my accent while I was talking to the pharmacist, I heard him remark that it was "thanks to us that you're not speaking German!", a comment I chose to ignore. This shitstain gentleman then tapped me on the shoulder, and said that I should be thanking every US veteran because "we saved your asses in World War Two", a remark that frankly I find offensive. I have a pretty standard defence for this type of remark, and I gave it to him while I was waiting for the prescription.
It goes along the lines of "Whose asses do you mean?", to which the standard response is "Britain's, we saved your asses…" etc. I ask him if he meant military action in Europe or the UK, to which he responds, "Europe" and goes on to describe how Hitler would have swept us up in his Blitkreig takeover.
"So you're not talking about the Battle of Britain?" (No, he wasn't.) "Do you know what the Battle of Britain was? (No, he didn't, so I explain.) I ask how many US pilots served the air defence of Britain during the Battle. He doesn't know, so I tell him it was fewer than a dozen. He is taken aback, surely there were more than that? No, I tell him, US citizens were expected to remain neutral and not fight, and that he can look it up on Wikipedia if he's a mind to.
The RAF recognises seven aircrew personnel who were from the United States as having taken part in the Battle of Britain. American citizens were prohibited from serving under the various U.S. Neutrality Acts; if an American citizen had defied strict neutrality laws, there was a risk of losing their citizenship and imprisonment. It is believed that another four Americans misled the British authorities about their origins, claiming to be Canadian or other nationalities.
—source
I further explain that Polish and French pilots vastly outnumbered US pilots, and furthermore that it was the Poles, not the US, who provided the key to breaking the Enigma code. By this time he's visibly upset, and defends his thesis by explaining that without US support in the European war we would have faced invasion (something that I do accept as a possibility, and admit to him).
"However", I say, "the US had done a great deal for us directly. But the US Merchant Marine lost around thousands of people to U-boat attacks while bringing supplies to the UK before the US decided not to remain neutral in Europe."
"So you admit that we saved your asses, then?"
"The Merchant Marine did, the US government, in my view, saw this as an opportunity to collapse Britain as an economic power whilst still supporting us through lend-lease, and that's what happened." I go on to describe how, growing up in the 1960s, I still saw parts of my city that had not been developed following the bombings during the German campaign.
And I turn away, I collect my neighbour's prescription, and as I am leaving, ask him if the US saved Vietnam's ass in that war. He was fuming, and I was glad to leave him behind. I'm really happy to acknowledge what the US did, and they did a lot. But (and I'm no war historian) I believe that we would neverthless have resisted an invasion force having proven our superiority in the air¹. The English Channel may be narrow, but it would still be a bugger to cross while being bombed and strafed. We also had the Home Guard, we had British grit and spunk and by Golly we'd have made it hard for Jerry.
Exhibit Two is a woman in the checkout queue a couple of places in front of me. She's chatting to her friend about some MLM scheme and trying to get her involved. The desperation in this poor woman's voice is clear, as she explains how it's not a pyramid scheme, and how it's really easy to make a lot of money just selling things to friends and recruiting others. The woman is politely declining, despite the hail of claims. She eventually asks, "How much do you make, then?", and whilst I don't hear the reply (an announcement over Corporate Radio drowns out the response) it's clear that it's unsatisfactory.
Raw as I am from my encounter with Mr. America I must have let slip the dogs of body language because Ms. MLM turns on me and tells me to butt out. Despite me not saying a word, my features must have given me away, because suddenly I am The Enemy, and "what do I know about this anyway?" I'm a little pissed off, but I apologise in any case, hoping to de-escalate. The friend looks worried and says to leave me out of it, and I nod in agreement. MLM is not taking prisoners, and clearly feeling backed into a corner, tells everyone that "she didn't come here to be attacked" and abandons her shopping to storm off to {cry|rant|piss-herself} elsewhere.
The friend, meanwhile, apologised, told the cashier she'll have the groceries rung up and get them to MLM. Then she saw my meagre handbasket and waved me in front of her. I thanked her, told her she's a sweetheart and ask if her friend will be okay. She looked at me oddly and I realised it was none of my business. As I was about to apologise, she said "Yes, she'll be fine, she's just caught up in the whole thing just now. It's kind of a cult."
It was that word that explained everything. It explains MLM, it explains Mr. Vietnam Vet, it explains MAGA and the personality cult of Trump (and Bernie, come to that). It explains Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons and that Fred Phelps hate-church whose name I forget just now. America (and the whole world, it seems) is directionless, lost, hopeless and feeling sad. Filling the raw, dark emptiness of fear and doubt with artificial hope, filter bubbles and consumerism, a splintered plank in a cold, stormy sea.
Maevwyn says re April 29, 2022: My English grandfather was a RAF mechanic during WWII. He said that the Polish pilots he knew were something else - they'd been flying combat missions longer than anyone else. They'd come back in planes shot to pieces and set down on the airstrip like it was just another day. The only time one admitted it might have been a rough landing was when he came back with an engine on fire.
¹ If anyone wants to throw more light on the possible outcomes, I'm happy to hear from them. I've talked to many people on the topic, and I maintain an optimistic view that we'd not be speaking German today.