They are called Test matches and as they clear the dead from Bondi beach the cricket, the Ashes, will continue. The sometimes bitter rivalry between English and Australian cricketers is internecine. Like a fight between brothers.

When the Australians were touring England and heard about the young gun – Joe Root – they sought him out and gave him a slap. Aussie Captain Steve Smith is mocked and belittled for crying on TV. It can get unpleasant.

But it is only a game. It is nothing real. Afterwards they shake hands and go home.

Now England cricketers are in Australia, down-under, the lucky country, the post war escape route for beaten down pommes. Ten pound emigrants to the sun and a new life. The country that stood by us through wars, that fought alongside us, ANZAC day, now you too have this sort of bedlam and horror. On the beach.

There was a small gathering outside Australia house in London. The Jewish community again marking another slaughter. After fighting together to clear fascism from Europe and the Far East, after seeing the unholy horror of the camps and the railway we, us, Australians and Brits, know evil when we see it. And stand together against it. No problem.

And the cricket carries on. Of course it does.