My Flag Is Now My Bed

 

So let’s get this straight: the men and women who put on a uniform, risked their lives in Iraq, Afghanistan, the Falklands and beyond, who stood on the line when the rest of us slept safely in our beds,those same people are now sleeping rough on the streets of Britain? A country they fought for? A flag they saluted? That’s not just a scandal, it’s a national disgrace. We have a political class that can find endless billions for foreign aid, for housing arrivals who have never contributed a penny to our system, yet somehow cannot muster the basic decency to ensure that a veteran has a roof over his head. These are not statistics. These are men who’ve seen comrades die, who carry the scars of war, visible and invisible, yet their reward from the state they served is cold concrete and a sleeping bag under a railway arch. It is betrayal, plain and simple. If Britain cannot look after its veterans, it forfeits the right to call itself a proud nation. To honour the service of our veterans means more than laying wreaths on Remembrance Sunday, it means providing homes, healthcare, dignity. Anything less is hypocrisy wrapped in a poppy. The country must decide: do we stand by those who stood by us, or do we wash our hands and walk past them in the street? Because right now, the answer is shameful.