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GUESTBOOK
SUPPORTING OUR TROOPS WHO ARE ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WE DO REMEMBER
WE SHALL NOT FORGET
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All Arms Veterans Motorcycle Club
WE STRIVE TO MAKE SURE THAT THE SPIRIT OF THE DEAD WILL SURVIVE IN THE MEMORY OF THE LIVING
For enquiries or inclusion on this site mail The Webmaster at ~ aavmcc@myway.com
When you're lying alone in your Afghan bivvy
And your life depends on some MOD civvie.
When the body armour's shared one set between three
And the firefight's not like it is on TV,
Then you'll follow that path all Tommies have trod.
When the Gimpy has jammed and you're down to one round,
And the faith that you'd lost is suddenly found.
When the Taliban horde is close up to the fort,
And you pray that the arty don't drop a round short.
Stick to your Sergeant like a good squaddie should,
And fight them like Satan or one of his brood.
Your pay it won't cover your needs or your wants,
So just stand there and take all the Talibans taunts.
Nor Generals nor civvies can do 'owt to mend it,
Except make sure your're kept in a place you can't spend it.
Three fifty an hour in your Afghani cage,
Not nearly as much as the minimum wage.
Your missus at home in a foul married quarter,
With damp on the walls and a roof leaking water.
Your kids miss their mate, their hero, their Dad,
They're missing the childhood that they should have had.
One day it will be different, one day by and by,
As you all stand there and watch, to see the pigs fly.
Just like your forebears in mud, dust and ditch,
You'll march and you'll fight and you'll drink and you'll bitch.
Wether Froggy or Zulu or Jerry or Boer,
The Brits will fight on 'til the battle is over.
You may treat him like dirt, but nowt will unnerve him,
But I wonder, sometimes, if the Country deserves him?
anon - Afghanistan.
