I wear his Dog-tags round my neck
His “ Burma Star “ hangs on the wall
My Dad he was a “ Chindit “
A long, and a Short, and a Tall

A member of “ The Special Force “
The Mule became his friend
Deep within the jungle
A hero till the end

A telegram to my Mam was sent
Missing, killed in action !
His Patrol wiped out behind Jap lines
Ambushed with their packs on

My Dad the sole survivor
But no one knew this then
Wounded in the leg
Losing all his friends

Three month through the Jungle
To get to friendly lines
Surviving on his instincts
Hacking through the vines

A look of shock on my Mam’s face
As Dad knocked on her door
Her Husband’s Ghost returning
His wounds now healed, but sore !

He never spoke about the war
His eyes they told the story
Bottled up inside himself
Not seeking any Glory

I joined the Army like him
To serve before The Crown
In Honour of his memory
Tried not to let him down

His Dog tags still hang proudly
From a chain around my neck
But I’d hand them in tomorrow
If I could have him back !