The Platoon Staff

by | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry | 0 comments

The lance jack was a lanky man
His eyes were crossed and squint
To cap it all his wife was fat
A rude and boozy bint

The corporal was a bigger man
6 foot 4 at least
He’d come in at the weekends
To give us all a beast

He’s shout and scream at dark o’clock
He wouldn’t leave us be
He’d say that we were “idiots”
If that’s the case what’s he?

And then there was the sergeant
A bastard through and through
When god made him I tell you this
he used the devils brew

What a nasty person
and the things he used to say
“Shit and desperation
is about to come your way”

And then there comes the officer
All talking nice and posh
But even though he sounds like that
He still talks nout but tosh

He swaggers up and down outside
His shoes all brown and polished
And when he calls the orders
Queens English is abolished

So all in all in charge of us
We’ve scrawny, bad and Rodger
If I get through with this here bunch
I’ll be called the artful dodger


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