I’ve always been a proud swearer. There are no ‘bad’ words, just poor uses for them |
I’ve always been a proud swearer. There are no ‘bad’ words, just poor uses for them
February 26, 2026 — 7:00pm
You have reached your maximum number of saved items.
Remove items from your saved list to add more.
Save this article for later
Add articles to your saved list and come back to them anytime.
My maternal grandfather was a Yorkshireman, and a dour Yorkshireman at that. He didn’t say much, just glowered. Perhaps that’s why one family lunch stands out in my memory. He was usually very abstemious, so maybe it was the couple of beers that loosened his tongue. He began to tell us about his experiences as a tank transport driver in the North African desert in World War II.
Looking back, it seems obvious he was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but no one had heard of such a thing when I was a teenager. As he related a vivid and horrifying story, his eyes filled with tears. We were riveted, terrified that if we said anything it would break the spell. “Bloody war!” he said, dashing the tears from his eyes.
“Alfred!” We all turned to look at his wife, my gentle grandmother, the family’s keeper of the peace. A stern reprimand from her was as astonishing to me as his vulnerability. “There are children present!”
To........