Trooper Beer & The Mystery of the two labels

The Swedish label (left) compared with the standard label (right).

The story goes that Iron Maiden wanted to develop an ale, that their fans could enjoy, all around the world. After speaking to a number of small breweries, who were in favour of the project, but not on the scale that Iron Maiden were looking for, the search continued with Bruce Dickinson, the band's lead singer, taking a trip to the Unicorn Brewery, home of Robinsons Family Brewers. Here, it finally looked like Iron Maiden's dreams could be realised. After a serious talk between Bruce Dickinson and head brewer Martyn Weeks, which Bruce described as an 'interview', about what the band's aspirations and commitment were, the two men set about deciding the flavour, colour and taste of Iron Maiden beer. With the recipe sorted a name was that all that remained to finalise. Wanting to have something patriotic on the label, Trooper instantly leapt into Bruce Dickinson's mind. In May 2013, Trooper was born.

Iron Maiden's song, The Trooper, was released as a single on June 20, 1983. Steve Harris, the band's bassist, wrote the song and based it on The Charge of the Light Brigade, which took place at the Battle of Balaclava, during the Crimean War of 1854. The Charge of the Light Brigade was the result of a misunderstanding of an order, given by Commanding Officer Lord Raglan, and resulted in 600 British cavalry men charging the Russian artillery in a courageous, but foolhardy, assault which resulted in a massive loss of life. 

The single's cover art was designed by Derek Riggs and had the band's mascot, Eddie, in full cavalry uniform charging forward, with a sabre in his right hand and the Union flag in his left. This name and image were perfect for the band and for the fans. Who could complain?

Well, the Swedish, actually. Not the fans, mind, but the law makers.

There was no problem with the beer or the name, but the label would have to be changed, to allow it to be sold in Sweden. This is because Swedish law forbids, elements of war, weapons or aggression to be featured on alcoholic product. So, after altering the label to focus solely on Eddie's face, the Swedish powers-that-be were placated and Trooper became available to the Swedish fans. 

As far as I know, this label is supposed to be exclusive to Sweden, but I have found Trooper on sale in the United Kingdom with this Swedish label. On the plus side, I have discovered that purchasing Trooper, with the Swedish label, is cheaper by up to 70p per bottle. 

Trooper has an Alcohol By Volume (ABV) of 4.7% and is a deep golden ale, made from a unique blend of three different hops and has a slight lemony hint.

In its first year, over 5 million pints of Trooper were brewed and it is now exported to just under 40 countries, quadrupling the export sales of Robinsons Brewery.

In August 2014, Trooper won gold in the British Bottlers' Institute (BBI) Competition 2014. The BBI president Ed Binstead said,

“Trooper was an outstanding entry. It was marked as the clear gold winner in that class by ALL the judges, I can’t remember this happening before. We set very high standards when conducting the blind tasting, none of the judges know the products they are tasting, so the results reflect purely the quality of the products taste. Summing up I would say very well done to Trooper.”

If you like Real Ale's, grab yourself a bottle of Trooper and yell, "Up the Irons!"

Trooper Beer

Robinsons Brewery

Iron Maiden

British Bottlers' Institute

Campaign for Real Ale

Poem: Keep

For how long have you stood there,

Opposing the forces of nature and men?

Your sleek yet sturdy body,

From somewhere way back then.

Your skin as hard as iron,

And as unyielding as steel.

You have protected thousands,

With your determined will.

Now, after long years of silence,

You begin to weep.

Thinking of yourself forgotten,

My friend, my guardian, my keep.

Poem: Morning Sun

The great bird shuddered,
Her engines spluttering to life.
The men looked at each other,
Thoughts turning to family and wives.

The great bird lifted,
Reaching cruising height.
As the the men wondered,
If they would return this night.

The great bird flew,
On towards her enemy.
Below darkening cloud,
Above rolling sea.

The great bird banked,
As explosions shook the night.
The sound of Hell,
With Heaven's Light.

The great bird soared,
And, with target below,
Her cargo was loosed.
And she turned for home.

The great bird survived,
Carrying seven mothers sons.
Who now stood thankful,
In the early morning sun.

Short Story: Splash of Colour

I sit beside a fallen tree, looking down into my field that has been transformed, these past few months. My once lush emerald pasture has been replaced with a patchwork of myriad browns. My once proud trees lie twisted and broken, like so much mangled machinery. Spread without any thought or care, refuse spoils the once manicured ground. Timber frames and mangled steel, cause ghostly silhouettes to dance across the uneven ground, by the diffused sunlight. Water, which fills the pits and troughs, reflects the dull, colourless sky, adding to my sombre mood. My heart feels heavy. Nothing moves. Nothing lives.

But, suddenly, there is clarity. The droplets from the fine rain, acting like a lens, focus my attention. Amongst the refuse, at the edge of the field, do my eyes deceive? Is there movement? Is that colour? I resist blinking, trying to focus on the mirage before me. Finally, I blink and the mirage has taken shape. A figure stares up at me. My body aches as I rise to my feet, the figure watching me closely, as I make my way down into the field, if can still be called that.

My progress is hindered by the thick mud, which sucks at my boots, threatening to pull me into the bowels of the Earth. The figure before me turns, heading toward the centre of the quagmire, seeming to float across the surface. My breath becomes laboured, as my ageing body fights to keep me moving forward. As we get closer to the centre, the figure seems to undulate in-and-out of focus. A wave of nausea sweeps through me as the figure turns and holds my gaze. Tears fill his eyes as he dips his head. With a last great effort I step forward, throwing my arms around him. But he disappears and I topple into the mud. As I push myself up and out of the mud, I notice a flower, swaying in the gentle breeze, exactly where the figure had stood. At this moment the sun breaks through the clouds and  illuminates this splash of colour. Somehow, against all the odds, surviving in the mud and detriment... a Poppy.

The Great War: A Commemoration Service Day

Sunday August 3, 2014

The West Watford History Group, the website of which my mum keeps up-to-date, as well as being a founder member of the group, had been invited to attend a special service for the World War One Commemoration, at St. Mary's church, followed by a buffet lunch at Watford Museum. My mum gladly accepted the invite, on behalf of the group, and asked me if I would accompany her.

 

Order of Service for the World War One Commemoration.

Mum and I left my house, at 09:30, and took a slow walk into Watford, where we grabbed a coffee at Caffe Nero. Mum spotted a few friends and acquaintances, who we joined, as we entered the church, where we took a seat near the back of the church.

The service began with the entrance of a Civic Procession, which consisted of Dorothy Thornhill, Watford's elected mayor, and various councillors. Maurice Saunders, president of the Croxley Green British Legion, with various servicemen and ex-servicemen. Richard Harrington MP, Watford's Member of Parliament, and other dignitaries.

With everyone seated, Reverend Tony Rindl welcomed everyone to the service, before we all stood to sing the hymn, All my hope on God is founded. This was followed by a Call to worship and Psalm 59: The innocent war victim pleads for deliverance.

This was followed by a two-part drama: Britain enters the War.

Set on August 3, 1914, part one of the drama was set in the House of Commons, from the viewpoint of Sir Edward Grey, the Foreign Secretary, and we are shown why the British government felt it necessary to go to war.

The second part was set in the Foreign Office, with the US Secretary of State meeting with Sir Edward Grey, after the twenty-four hour ultimatum has been handed to Germany. The lamps are going out all over Europe.

The drama was brilliantly executed and was so enthralling that not a murmur was heard, from the hushed audience. This was followed by a reading: Revelation 6: 1-8: The Four Horsemen are unleashed.

There were then more prayers and hymns and readings, before the story of the Men of St. Mary's was read. This concerned a stories of some of the 114 men, from the Parish, who fought and died in The Great War. One of these concerned two brothers who both died in different battles, but on the very same day, in 1917.

The Reverend Tony Rindl then gave his sermon, with the message that, when given a choice, 'to do nothing is often the worst choice of all.'

With the service over, the congregation began to filter out. Some went for coffee in the church hall, while others headed out into the noon sun. Somehow I got separated from mum, so I took the opportunity to have a look around the church, itself. A few minutes later we found each other, out in the churchyard, and made our way to Watford Museum.

 

Flags hanging in the Essex Chapel.

Many of the congregation had made their way to the museum, before us, and were mingling inside the old Benskins Brewery building. So, grabbing a small plate of food, and a glass of orange juice, mum and I headed outside, where a gazebo had been erected. Considering the heat of the day it was far cooler beneath the gazebo, compared to inside the museum. We were soon joined by Mayor Dorothy Thornhill and an RAF serviceman and his family. The conversation went from the service to general chit-chat about Watford and what we like and love about our town.

We then decided that we should make the most of our time, at the museum, and went for a tour. It has been many years since I last looked around the museum, probably because it always appears closed. As it turns out, the museum is only open Thursday - Saturday, from 10:00 - 17:00. There are some nice displays, but I feel that there must be so much more that could be shown, if only they had the space. The Cassiobury House exhibit consists of a large room with paintings on the walls. The rest of the room is empty. Was there nothing more that they could do with it? Anyway. After a good look around we spoke to a few people, grabbed a drink and headed for the door. Mum had filled a paper plate with small cakes, on the suggestion of one of the volunteers, as the there was so much food, it would be a shame for it to go to waste.

 

The Pennant Bar in Watford Museum.

We then made our way home, with mum's friend Sue and her grandson, via Lady's Close. Seeing as the gates to the Watford Grammar School for Girls were open, we went in to see the refurbished Lady's Close house. This was once a private residence, but is now the English department, for the school. From here we carried on our way home.

 

This once private residence is now the English department, at Watford Grammar School for Girls.

From the service to the museum, it was a different but interesting day, that I am happy to have been a part of.

Bug Jam 28, part 2

Saturday 19 July, 2014

After just a couple of hours of sleep, I awoke to another glorious day. Jason and Len were already awake and, after a quick change and clean, I joined them in the sun.

Len and I wandered off to look at the stalls, where I was hoping to purchase some gifts for Emma and the girls, and grab a coffee. After a good look around, I managed to find some gifts, which I took back to the tent, before cracking open a can of beer. We then went off to watch the cars racing down the strip, before heading back down the pit lane, to speak to the drivers and to get a closer look at their suped up cars.

[caption id="attachment_1612" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Last minute 'tweaks' are made to the engines of many cars in the pit lane.[/caption]

We then looked around the Rat & Rust display, which consists of cars that the owners have lovingly customised, while leaving them to rust.

[caption id="attachment_1610" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This lovingly customised VW has been fully customised, which includes; a garden bench for the front seats, a pool cue for the gear stick and a fully functioning bar in the boot.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1611" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This bar, in the back of a customised VW, is fully functional.[/caption]

With the sun doing its best to cook every living thing in the vicinity, we headed back to the car, where we found some shelter by sitting in the shadow of our neighbours VW van. As on the Friday, the temperature soared to 32 c, or 89.6 f, making it very uncomfortable.

Normally, at Bug Jam, we would have been sitting atop the mound, between the dragstrip and the Live Arena, but, as there was nothing going on in the Live Arena, we chose to stay where we were. Thankfully, the cloud started to build, allowing the temperature to become more bearable, which allowed us to go and watch some more of the Jet Funny Cars.

We stopped off at the Fuelers Bar, for a seriously cold pint and a bite to eat, before settling down to watch the cars. Some of these were reaching speeds of close to 300 mph, or 480 kph, and were difficult to keep in the frame, as I videoed some of the best ones. Still, it was a great show.

With time getting on, we headed back to the tent, where I settled down to relax and read a book, before heading back out to watch the live music. Len sat in his car and caught a quick nap.

Feeling fully recharged, Jason informed us that his cousin would be arriving soon, to take David home, as he wasn't feeling too well. Sure enough his cousin, Joe, arrived and David disappeared off with him. Len and myself then headed to the live stage, where Call Me Blondie, were just taking to the stage. They belted out all the classic Blondie songs, plus a few Debbie Harry ones, too.

[caption id="attachment_1609" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Probably the best act of the entire weekend, was 'Call Me Blondie', a tribute act to 'Blondie and Debbie Harry'..[/caption]

When they had finished their set, the Cuban Brothers took to the stage. Well, I watched them for about ten minutes, before deciding that they weren't my cup-of-tea and headed back to the tent. Len decided to get some sleep, so that he was refreshed for the drive home, while I stayed up and read some more of the book, that I had brought with me.

My quite time was quickly, and rudely, interrupted by Jason and Joe. David was asleep in Joe's car, so Jason and Joe had decided to stay and enjoy the music tents and, since the music wasn't to their taste, were going to head home. So, Jason grabbed a few bits of his gear, from the back of the car and, after bidding farewell, headed off with his cousin, into the darkness that is Podington Airfield. I settled back down with my book, before turning in to sleep, at about 02:30.

Sunday 20 July, 2014

I was up so early, on the Sunday morning, that I was changed and packed before Len awoke. When he did finally arise, we headed off for a coffee and a bacon sandwich. We reached the food wagon, just as it was opening, so we sat and watched the cleaners and other early risers, meandering around the deserted funfair and stalls.

With the coffee and bacon sandwich done with, we took another look around the entire site, before heading back to the car. My tent was down in a few minutes and, with everything packed, we headed off for home.

It was not the best Bug Jam, that I have been to, but it could have been better. Hopefully next year it will be back to its best.