by Finn | Dec 6, 2008 | Poetry
The poppies are blooming In Helmand now red, red against parched earth. Dust dry in the mouth. The poppies are blooming In Helmand now in fields flat where our comrades fell, dust dry in the mouth. Soon they will be gathered in as we were gathered in for the poppies...
by Finn | Dec 5, 2008 | Poetry
If you ask me why we are here, what can I say. We are always here. We are the soldiers since the first days, ever present where you send us. You bring us into being. We are your power made flesh When Alexander pointed east we poured from the hills of Macedon defeating...
by Finn | Dec 4, 2008 | Poetry
When hunting the Haggis it’s useful to know That the Haggis when hunted keeps very low, It runs really fast with its ear to the ground And jumps up a tree at the very first sound…… And there it will stay disguised as a bird, Emitting strange sounds which seldom are...
by Finn | Dec 1, 2008 | Poetry
I guess I was lucky no PTSD, terminal boredom did it for me. Civvy street – just a good doddle, Body guarding a famous young model. No bivvies, no packs no sergeants, no sand, no leaving your blood in a hot foreign land. The money was good, four times the pay, a...
by Finn | Nov 29, 2008 | Poetry
It’s the one you don’t hear that gets you, sniper’s bullet maybe, honing in at two thousand feet a second plus. Even if it hits a limb you’ve had it. The first you’ll know of it is when you’re dead, looking down perhaps at a body folded in on itself, Looking down and...
