Letter: 'A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do' - why the world could learn a lot from film hero John Wayne

I spent the early years of my life growing up after the war - that world was grey and grim, and I escaped into the movies.

It was there I met John Wayne, and on the strength of that meeting the West was won.

John was tough with a soft centre; awkward with babies but a safe pair of hands. He was attracted to women and there was mutual respect, they worked out a compromise that defined them both.

Yes, there were misunderstandings but they sorted them out. Men were men, women were women, and you could tell the difference.

He fought the Indians, but once again there was mutual respect. You earn respect when you fight for something - the Church could learn that.

He knew they were fighting to defend a way of life that was under threat, and he had a conscience about it.

Instinctively, he always took the high moral ground; today it comes with a health warning, that instinct has been moulded into a lie by the media.

Indians had dignity, even in defeat, and didn’t surrender lightly. The Church has rolled over and gone missing.

It was a French philosopher who said: “I don’t agree with what you said, but I’ll defend your right to say it.” John lived by that code.

He was patriotic, some would say to a fault. We live in different times.

The lawless and the God forsaken knew he was there and kept their heads down; he didn’t take prisoners and shot from the hip.

He wouldn’t think much of the Church today. We sit on our reservations and rake the dying embers of a past well lit.

Some, even the Indians, get a wistful look in their eyes and wish he would come back. He always said “a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do” - if you can find one.

Of course, like all of us, John was flawed. He smoked too much and drank too much. It may have killed him in the end, but he would have gone down fighting; even our enemies admire a fighter.

He exuded virtues and a way of life that have gone. As the Church sat back the world has changed, and truth has been stood on its head. Truth is what you make it, and peace is an easier virtue.

If John is looking on he wouldn’t want to come back - he would be a man among boys. The Church has been scalped. A cynical world looks on defiant with barely concealed amusement and contempt. Unchallenged, it flaunts its ignorance and disbelief.

They don’t make them like him anymore - in Church or state.

He left, as only he could, riding his horse over the horizon, leaving a world hurting, drifting into chaos and moving toward a very dark place.

Clive Maxwell, Bleary