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Wanderers Ways. Neil Thompson 1961-2021

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The British Soldier!

Not sure if it's a SEB if so please delete Mods. Thanks.

 

 

 

The Poppy Appeal - Please show support

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They are doing their bit.....please do yours by reading this and forwarding it to someone else:

 

 

 

The average British soldier is 19 years old?..he is a short haired, well built lad who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears and just old enough to buy a round of drinks but old enough to die for his country ? and for you. He?s not particularly keen on hard work but he?d rather be grafting in Afghanistan than unemployed in the UK . He recently left comprehensive school where he was probably an average student, played some form of sport, drove a ten year old rust bucket, and knew a girl that either broke up with him when he left, or swore to be waiting when he returns home. He moves easily to rock and roll or hip-hop or to the rattle of a 7.62mm machine gun.

 

 

He is about a stone lighter than when he left home because he is working or fighting from dawn to dusk and well beyond. He has trouble spelling, so letter writing is a pain for him, but he can strip a rifle in 25 seconds and reassemble it in the dark. He can recite every detail of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either effectively if he has to. He digs trenches and latrines without the aid of machines and can apply first aid like a professional paramedic. He can march until he is told to stop, or stay dead still until he is told to move.

 

 

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation but he is not without a rebellious spirit or a sense of personal dignity. He is confidently self-sufficient. He has two sets of uniform with him: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never forgets to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes and fix his own hurts. If you are thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food is your food. He'll even share his life-saving ammunition with you in the heat of a firefight if you run low.

 

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and regards his weapon as an extension of his own hands. He can save your life or he can take it, because that is his job - it's what a soldier does. He often works twice as long and hard as a civilian, draw half the pay and have nowhere to spend it, and can still find black ironic humour in it all. There's an old saying in the British Army: 'If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined!'

 

 

He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and he is unashamed to show it or admit it. He feels every bugle note of the 'Last Post' or 'Sunset' vibrate through his body while standing rigidly to attention. He's not afraid to 'Bollock' anyone who shows disrespect when the Regimental Colours are on display or the National Anthem is played; yet in an odd twist, he would defend anyone's right to be an individual. Just as with generations of young people before him, he is paying the price for our freedom. Clean shaven and baby faced he may be, but be prepared to defend yourself if you treat him like a kid.

He is the latest in a long thin line of British Fighting Men that have kept this country free for hundreds of years. He asks for nothing from us except our respect, friendship and understanding. We may not like what he does, but sometimes he doesn't like it either - he just has it to do.. Remember him always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

 

And now we even have brave young women putting themselves in harm's way, doing their part in this tradition of going to war when our nation's politicians call on us to do so.

 

They have earned my whole hearted respect! :good:

Edited by tonygreen1981

Featured Replies

Proper lump-in-throat stuff is that. Top writing!

Somebody sent it to me a couple of weeks ago via email: very moving stuff.

:good:
:hi: To all our troops that have fallen and the ones that are still out there fighting the cause.

Edited by bwfcryan86

Welling up here, Tony. Top stuff. Bought mine today - the first time I have seen the sellers on the city centre streets.

This is in the same vain although American.

 

edit : Some of the lads on them pictures dont look old enough to be out on their own, never mind fighting wars.

Edited by barryk32

It doesn't show them accidentally killing any of ours.

Very moving stuff indeed.

 

Just like Vietnam, you may not agree with the war, but respect to those trapped in Hell.

It doesn't show them accidentally killing any of ours.

 

It isn't just them. We fuck up too, it just isn't subject to the same attention. The US military has changed a lot. From being considered a bit of a joke it's now thought to be the most professional and well equipped force there is. They've become very good at identifying their own shortfalls and putting them right, which we're fucking crap at. There's no internal debate or self analysis with the British Army. The Americans put us to shame in that respect.

Yeah but we have tommy guns and eat chips and gravy and that's all you need to fight a war

CRASS ,, reply.

 

 

we are the people, queen and country

Two things wrong with the following:-

 

1) It's a SEB because I posted it last year. I make no apologies.

2) It was sent to me by an American Vietnam Vet friend of mine so was originally aimed at US forces. Also, the religious connotations wouldn't come from me either.

 

I believe it is still relevant to what our lads and lasses are doing in Afghanistan though.

 

THE FINAL INSPECTION

 

The soldier stood and faced God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.

 

'Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you ?

Have you always turned the other cheek ?

To My Church have you been true?'

 

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,

'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.

 

I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough.

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough.

 

But, I never took a penny,

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime,

When the bills got just too steep.

 

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God, forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

 

I know I don't deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.

 

If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand.

 

There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod,

As the soldier waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.

 

'Step forward now, you soldier,

You've borne your burdens well.

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in Hell.'

 

Author Unknown~

 

It's the Military, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the

Press. It's the Military, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of

Speech. It's the Military, not the politicians that ensures our right to

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. It's the Military who salutes

The flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by

The flag.

 

If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for

The Military, please pass this on and pray for our men and women who have

Served and are currently serving our country and pray for those who

Have given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.

Always brings back memories of some troubled times....

 

The Soldier

 

'Lest we forget'

Well how do you do Private William McBride,

Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside?

And rest for awhile beneath the warm summer sun,

I've been walking all day and now I'm nearly done

I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen

When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916;

Well I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean,

Or, young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

 

Refrain:

Did they beat the drum slowly,

Did they play the fife lowly?

Did they sound the Death March

As they lowered you down?

Did the band play

"The Last Post And Chorus?"

Did the pipes play

"The Flowers Of The Forest?"

 

Did you leave 'ere a wife or a sweetheart behind?

In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?

And although you died back in 1916,

In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen?

Or are you a stranger without even a name,

Enclosed forever behind a glass pane,

In an old photograph, torn, and battered and stained,

And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?

Refrain:

 

Ah the sun now it shines on these green fields of France,

The warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance,

And look how the sun shines from under the clouds;

There's no gas, no barbed wire, there're no guns firing now.

But here in this graveyard is still No Man's Land,

The countless white crosses in mute witness stand

To man's blind indifference to his fellow man,

To a whole generation that was butchered and damned.

Refrain:

 

Ah, young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why,

Did all those who lay here really know why they died?

And did they believe when they answered the call,

Did they really believe that this war would end war?

For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain,

The killing and dying were all done in vain,

For, young Willie McBride, it all happened again,

And again and again and again and again.

Refrain:

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