First day in, all of a shake
everything strange, don’t know what to make
of everyone shouting and bawling at me
I’m only new here or can’t they see,
I’ve had me ‘aircut, twice don’t you know
in only one day, that’ll teach it to grow
so this is it, called up to serve
ain’t it a cheek, ain’t it a nerve.
Already day two and I’m on parade
what I wouldn’t give, to at least trade
with one of me mates back ‘ome, don’t you see
what’s that e’s shouting, done it wrong, who me?
so it’s port arms, slope arms, turn about face
arms and legs all over the place
first march this way, then march that
oh I do feel strange in these boots and this ‘at.
I carried me gun in left and me right
the way that you should, when you’re ready to fight
first wiv a bayonet then wivout
only to find it was the wrong way about
now I’ve climbed over nets and I’ve swung in the trees
then walked through the mud right up to me knees
then it’s yes sir, no sir, three bags full
you know where you can poke it . . bayonet’n’ all.
Well it’s five in the morning on day number three
with a ‘compo wad’ and a mug of cold tea
billet to be ‘bulled up’, ‘spit and polish’ applied
seems a waste, but at least I’ve tried,
not long now to the big inspection
then on to the Doc’s for me first injection
me arm’s like a balloon, didn’t ‘arf ‘urt
any regrets ? heh, that’s a cert’.
Evening’s arrived, time to spare
put me feet up, grow me ‘air
time for a pint in the NAAFI bar
meet new mates from near and far
don me civvies, get ready then
for a night out, smart as ten
remember the bad bits, have a good larf
life ain’t too bad, no not ‘arf
Copyright © Mike Hillier 1990 to 2000