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Byline: Helen Martin Bitching from Bruntsfield

BARONESS Thatcher and Tory leader William Hague are currently at odds over the matter of whether women soldiers should be sent to the front line with tank and infantry regiments.

Leaving aside the fact that Baroness T could eliminate an entire infantry regiment with a few swipes of her handbag and could certainly knock seven bells out of weedy William, I find myself in complete agreement with Mrs T.

She, who is, after all, the closest a modern woman comes to Boudicca, reckons women just aren't strong enough and that it is neither possible nor desirable that they play the same role as men in the battlefield.

Ploughing

Rootin' tootin' right! Women with cerebral ability are nowadays encouraged to use it to progress in the business world. Women who are not very bright but devastatingly pretty can make it by being a page-three girl, a pop star or a bit of celebrity arm candy.

Neither have the constitution of their great grandmothers who had to cope with handwashing blankets, ploughing fields and milking cows, all before breakfast.

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If the call had come in the first or second world wars for women to join up and fight, those reared to work the land in all weathers would have been best suited to the job. Now, thanks to rural depopulation and combine harvesters, they're all gone.

When William Hague talks about women on the front line, it would be interesting to ask...which women. Victoria Beckham? Joely Richardson? Caprice? Can you just imagine them with mud lodged under their broken fingernails and hair jungle-chopped to restrict lice and afford no unnecessary grip for those hand-to-hand combat moments? Look what happened when the Army did decide to use one of their prettier soldiers to aid recruitment. Before you could say "square-bashing", she had her kit off in the Sun and gave up the military for a modelling contract.

On the other hand, any alien force who caught sight of General Anne Widdecombe, Private Kathy Burke and Commando Sporty Spice bearing down on them would already be considering surrender before a shot was fired.

The bottom line (as opposed to the front line) may well be how many women actually want to swap their mascara for a machine gun and go off to fight for Queen and country.

There are not too many Ellen MacArthurs to the pound who see the advantage of adventure, danger, stamina and victory over lipgloss, regular colour treatments, kitten heels and a limitless store card.

Besides, women perform a spectacularly useful function simply by staying at home. Anyone who has read Men are from Mars, Women from Venus, knows very well that men respond best when they are trusted to fulfil their role as protector, warrior and problem solver.

Give them a shed load of dependant women and children to save and they'll fight twice as hard. And they'll know that when they come home (if they come home) it will be to a hero's welcome from grateful females.

Men don't like women fighting because they think it's their bag and, personally, they are welcome to it. I don't mind playing out old stereotypes if it saves me from standing waist-deep in leech-infested waters trying to keep my Kalashnikov dry.

Grinning

But the decision may not be down to the UK. How do we respond if, for example, the foe decides to send women to the front line? Do our lads squint http://www.fairmontsj.com/Style-File-Must-have-items-f.html
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