How the Somme's boy soldiers shame today's 'child' migrants, writes RICHARD LITTLEJOHN 

• e-mail

Later this week we will be commemorating the sacrifice of those who fought for Britain. This year is particularly poignant because it marks the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme, one of the bloodiest encounters of World War I.

On the first day alone, British forces suffered 57,000 casualties. Many of the dead and wounded soldiers were teenagers, some as young as 16.

Between 1914 and 1918, more than 250,000 boys under the age of 18 served in the British Army, many having lied about their age to join up.

Recruiters turned a blind eye, despite many of the volunteers looking as if they hadn’t started shaving. The youngest authenticated soldier was Sidney Lewis, who enlisted in the East Surrey Regiment when he was just 12 years old and fought at the Somme the following year.

On the first day alone, British forces suffered 57,000 casualties. Many of the dead and wounded soldiers were teenagers, some as young as 16

These days the passage of men of military age is all in the opposite direction as ‘refugees’ flood across Europe trying to enter Britain

Hundreds of thousands of young men crossed the Channel to join the bloody fray because it was considered the patriotic thing to do. These days the passage of men of military age is all in the opposite direction as ‘refugees’ flood across Europe trying to enter Britain.

Plenty of them succeed, too, even though they really should have no legal right to come here. We’re all well aware of the racket which has allowed male migrants in their 20s to be given sanctuary by pretending to be 16 or under.

Now we learn hundreds of Albanian men arrived here illegally last year posing as child refugees. Half of them had their asylum applications accepted and were placed with foster parents.

Documents uncovered by the Mail on Sunday also show they’ve been given school places, even though many of them are obviously over 18, which has created ‘safeguarding issues’ and put other pupils at risk.

Another study highlights the problems caused by some of these so-called ‘children’, primarily their behaviour towards women. Social workers put this down to the ‘gender assumptions of Albanian males’.

So that’s all right, then.

It has also been revealed that once accepted as genuine, they are entitled by law to be treated as ‘children in need’ and must be cared for until they are 25 if they stay in full-time eduction. Taxpayers have to pick up their university costs.

Later this week we will be commemorating the sacrifice of those who fought for Britain

What kind of madness is this? Set aside the fact that we shouldn’t be taking in anyone from Albania, unless they have a job requiring special skills and are capable of supporting themselves financially.

When did the state start regarding grown men of 25 as ‘children’? When I was 25, I was married with two kids and a mortgage. More to the point, millions of men have fought and died in wars well before they reached that age.

Ever since the migration crisis began, I’ve been drawing attention to the fact that most of these ‘asylum seekers’ are fit young men about whom we know nothing. They all claim to be fleeing conflict.

But if their home countries are so dangerous, why haven’t they brought their female relatives with them? Where are their mothers, sisters, aunties and nieces?

What kind of man runs away to safety, leaving the women behind?

And why should we be expected to give them house room, full board and lodging and pay for their education until they are 25?

Even to ask these questions is to be labelled a heartless racist by the hand-wringing classes. But that doesn’t make the problem go away, nor does it provide an adequate answer. Imagine if during the two world wars, most of the able-bodied young men in Britain had turned tail and boarded the first boat to America, demanding asylum.

Precisely. They’d have been shot as deserters.

Hundreds of thousands of young men crossed the Channel to join the bloody fray because it was considered the patriotic thing to do 

In another lifetime, boys lied about their age to join the military and serve their country.

Now grown men are lying about their age, pretending to be children, and travelling across continents so they can seek a safe haven in Britain.

And, more fool us, we’re letting them get away with it.

If the teenage heroes of the Somme could see what kind of insane society our nation has become, they’d wonder what the hell they had been fighting for. 

Appropriately, Theresa May and her team have flown to India for the first of their post-Brexit trade deal talks.

The cobbled-together coalition in charge of negotiating our departure from the European Union is already beginning to resemble the cast of It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum — the classic BBC comedy written by the late David Croft and Jimmy Perry, who died recently.

The show was set at the end of World War II and centred on the antics of a Royal Artillery concert party based at a depot in Deolali, India, near Mumbai — or Bombay as it used to be called.

Deolali was the site of a sanitorium which housed patients who were diagnosed as having gone temporarily mad. It’s where the slang term ‘doolally’ — meaning bonkers — got its name.

Theresa May and her team have flown to India for the first of their post-Brexit trade deal talks

Like the Brexiteers, It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum has been smeared as racist and reactionary, and the BBC refuses to show repeats.

Since the Remoaners think that anyone who voted Leave has gone completely doolally, why not play up to it?

The Brexiteers seem to spend half their time slagging each other off, anyway. So maybe it’s time to remake the show — It Ain’t Half Hot, May.

How about this for a cast?

Starring Theresa May as the Colonel; David ‘Windsor’ Davis as Sergeant Major Shut-Up; Boris Johnson as Bombardier ‘Gloria’ Graham; Liam Fox as Lofty; Jacob Rees-Mogg as Gunner ‘Lah-di-dah’ Graham; Philip Hammond as the punkawallah and Nigel Farage as Rangi Ram.

Fine pair of kitten heels. Show ’em off, show ’em off, show ’em off.

Altogether now, lovely boy. Dum, dum, diddly-um-dum-dum and . . .

Meet the gang,

We’re the Brexiteers,

We’re going to leave the EU.

With trade deals and borders,

That we can control,

It’s goodbye to Brussels,

’Cos we’re on a roll.

So stuff all the judges,

To hell with Remain,

We’ve nothing to lose now,

And ev’rything to gain.

So meet the gang,

We’re the Brexiteers,

We’re going to leave the EU.

B-R-E-X-I-T,

We’re going to leave the EU!

Police and firefighters are to be given taxpayer-funded classes teaching them how to handle women going through the menopause. That should come in handy if they ever have to rescue Carol Vorderman, who says going through the change inspired her to take part in I’m A Celebrity . . . Get Me Out of Here!

I don’t know whether to file all this under Mind How You Go, You Couldn’t Make It Up, or Here We Go Looby Loo. 

'Ready for the challenge: Carol said: 'Now I'm a menopausal Mama, I'm having the time of my life, and I'm doing a lot more adventurous stuff'

 Mutiny on the buses: part two

Last week I brought you the story of my friend Robert Rowland, who had been landed with a £759 fine over a £1.50 bus fare. 

He tried to pay in cash, after forgetting his wallet, but was told that wasn’t possible.

Even though the driver and conductor said he could stay on the bus, a stroppy inspector accused him of fare dodging and issued a penalty notice.

Robert wrote to Transport for London setting out the mitigating circumstances, but was tried and punished in his absence.

I’m delighted to say that after his ordeal appeared in this column, TfL carried out an ‘urgent review’ of his case. He’s received a grovelling apology, telling him that his appeal won’t be contested and his fine and costs will be cancelled.

That’s the good news.

The bad news is that since I wrote the story, I have received an avalanche of emails from readers who have suffered similar abuse of power at the hands of jumped-up jobsworths on both the buses and the rail network.

While I can’t address every individual case, I may return to the subject soon.

Typical, isn’t it? You wait ages for a story like this, then 300 come along at once.