Wednesday, 30 October 2013
A Squaddie's Lament
By Thomas Moore
They said the greetings would be glad.
I said they must be f*****g mad.
They said the weather would be fine,
I said, sod this, it’s in decline.
They said that they would run away,
I said, that’s fine, which f*****g day.
I think of home and give a sigh
this fly's at home, it’s in my eye.
I thought that flies just lived on shit.
These b*****ds think that I am it.
I’ve had enough, so to my pit
when I have finished digging it.
I dream of home and of my Ma
In those green fields, so near, yet far.
I picture stars, high in the sky.
Then I awake as bullets fly.
I hear a cry “incoming rounds”
then I hear silence, no more sounds.
This poem is dedicated to those who follow the flag with pride in their regiment, country and themselves. Their humour is often crude and language even cruder but both are the bond that binds them together.
The Regiment is not only a home but a place of safety that is the only constant in a world where danger and possibly death is all too often a plane, tank, lorry or weary foot slog away.
Your host does not mind if you have a hearty distrust of politicians, armchair generals and the red-faced major at the base but never forget those who are still serving in what is still the finest army in the world.
[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]
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Comments
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Thomas:
I served three years in the regular army (US) during Viet Nam. I was lucky; No one was shooting at me in Turkey or France. But despite that, I understand exactly, whereof you speak.
Old soldiers never die; they just blog away (and sometimes write fine poetry).
Posted by: Marc Leavitt | Wednesday, 30 October 2013 at 06:13 AM
Hi Marc, thanks for your comment, I served for a year in the British Commonwealth version of Vietnam, Borneo and later Singapore where one task was to supervise the trans-shipment of dead servicemen to their home destinations. It was done in a quiet corner of the airfield well away from public view,presumably to avoid political embarrassment, It should have been done with ceremony and publicity to let the world see the end consequence of political decisions to engage in conflict.
Posted by: Thomas Moore | Thursday, 31 October 2013 at 01:35 AM