PART of the frustration caused by the saga of old soldier Derek Jones is that his situation is difficult to resolve.

The residents of Barbourne who object to the health threat - theirs and his - posed by him camping on Worcester's Pitchcroft racecourse are perfectly understandable.

At the same time, it's inappropriate to criticise the city council. Without going into confidential details, all they can do is explain that they've done all they can to persuade him to move.

Then there's the Worcester Rough Sleepers organisation. Their fear is that, if the Severn floods in a major way, it will prove fatal.

A brief consideration of Mr Jones's life story explains why he's a familiar mix of contradictions.

On the one hand, he "doesn't relish" living like it and wants the council to provide him with a solid roof over his head.

On the other, he's as "happy as Larry", "living for today" and thinking "to hell with tomorrow".

The answer is probably to move the poor old man against his will, disturbing though the prospect might be.

Our greater concern, however, is this.

With almost half of the first decade of the 21st Century gone, one of the world's most advanced societies still seems no closer to dealing with the trap door through which people like him fall every day.

We'll be reassured when Mr Jones is in a place of safety.

We'll be even happier if the voices raised in concern at his existence at Pitchcroft are then aimed, as loudly, at sealing that trap door for good.