I’m as excited for the conflict as the next man, unless he lives on the Isle of Wight, but I’m afraid those in command may not have thought through the implications. Because there will only be one winner
: France. For all the surrender-monkey talk, the history couldn’t be clearer. When we have beaten France, in the Napoleonic or seven years wars, we have done so with German help. Every time we try to go it alone, we have to scurry home, stubby little bulldog tails between our legs: hundred years war, war of 1778, the Norman Conquest. I’m not sure Mrs Merkel is itching for a scrap.
There will be some early grounds for hope. Led by Dominic Raab in full kit and shin pads, the SAS will parachute in and seize our ancestral booze warehouses across the Channel. The burghers of Calais will be force-fed les burgers Anglais
they were so rude about in the 90s.
It won’t last. In time, the Foreign Legion will be marching down Oxford Street, while their generals loot Mr Bean
DVDs and Oasis albums from the smoking wreckage of HMV
. Rowan Atkinson will eventually be flushed out of his bunker, Saddam-style, and forced to perform Bean skits for 20 hours a day. The Queen will be exiled to Balmoral in the newly independent vassal state of Scotland, replaced by the puppet transition leader, Arsène Wenger. Stepping into his new quarters on Downing Street, Mr Macron will shake his head sadly at the depraved extravagance that led to such wallpaper, the last gasps of a venal and corrupt administration.