"If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating contest of freedom, go home from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or your arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that you were our countrymen."

Sunday, 7 November 2010

Feeling Bookish

It crossed my mind that I might not have internet access for next Sunday so wondered about pre-posting something.  Nothing hit me; it seems that In Flanders Fields is still the most appropriate (kiss) and videos were either mawkish or gung-ho but then I remembered the excellent Rogue Gunner who fought in the Falklands when he was only nineteen.

I see he's posted the first chapter of his new book:  Watching Men Burn, available  here,  and here are two poems I've lifted from his poetry pages:

The Counting House, 2009
The MP sat in his Mansion House
Counting his expenses
The soldier lay in Helmand Province
Hot thirsty and Apprehensive

The MP clicked his fingers
Shouted for a whisky
The soldier took a sip a water
To celebrate his 18th birthday

The MP ordered caviar with
Bordeaux, a 1787 Chateau Lafite,
The soldiers sweat dropped of his brow
Whilst he swallowed his own spit

The MP s servant lit his Premium Cuban cigar
Handing him a defence white paper
The soldier checked his rifle again
Whilst smelling RPG vapour

The MP said “Not now”
Tossing it to the floor
The soldier cocked his rifle
It was time to go to War

The MP dozed of in his chair
As his trousers buttons popped
The soldier was ordered to advance
Taliban must be stopped

The MP dropped his whisky glass
Malt seeping in to the carpet
The soldier was killed instantly
Blown into pieces of human scarlet.

Please Don't Look Down From Heaven Soldier, June 2010
Please don’t look down from heaven soldier
On the streets of Britain today
As we march we are abused
In a most disgusting way
You proudly did your duty
On the battlefield with pride
Now marching on British streets
We will not sneak and hide
Protesters spit and scream insults
To allow them here is reckless
But our police have their hands tied
By Political correctness
Its time for all good men & woman
To Stand up and shout “NO! “
If you don’t like our Country
Its time for you to “GO”
So close your eyes brave soldier
Sleep for a million years
Britannia she will rise again
Sweet music for your ears.

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