Certa Cito

by | Apr 10, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

Consider the poor Signalman, often the butt of jest,
but on the square at Catterick he’d put a guardsman to the test,
he has to be a marksman, clerk and driver too,
you’ll see him in a headset in crushed beret of navy blue,
to climb a pole with speed is the acid test,
to lay a line cross country needs map reading at its best.

Regimental troops spend their hitch in one posting, maybe two,
but to locate a Signalman puts the postie in a stew.
Basic training for the Corps is at Vimy and at Somme,
and if a Regular you chose to be, you know where I’m coming from.
You’ll hear them sing their marching song, some say without respect,
but see them march behind their band, in Regimentals bedecked.

He soldiered in Korea and with the Army of the Rhine,
He also did his duty well under fire, in the line,
he served his time in Cyprus, Malaya and Hong Kong,
it wasn’t in the NAAFI he earned his “Rooty Gong”.
So next time you see a Signalman, remember he’s a Soldier too,
he’s a master of a hundred trades, I wonder son, are you.


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