Supposedly our Friday lunch ritual was to be
seen eating somewhere on Lambton Quay,
we always discussed the ultimate military
sandwich between pints of Guinness, or
whatever took our fancy.
Then meandered our way through the City,
aiming to be at the Annexe by 4:30 pm, for
Home Command happy hour. They were lazy
days, crazy days, matched with mad memories
which made the City bearable.
Hazy days and easy ways to spend the useless
years ranging lower rungs of the rankings. And
in the thankless potpourri of an overmanned
and under-achieved Army we were free
to come and go as we pleased.
You’ve paid your dues I was told, there is
nothing for you to prove, take a break – relax,
go for a jog if you’ve surplus energy. Leave
the mundane business of running the place to
the Brigadier and old staffers like me.
You’ll be posted to a line unit again soon, then
you can be as Regimental as anyone can and
grin and bear it. Meantime get out of here.
You look too goddamned Gung Ho in that
scarcely worn-in Lieutenants uniform.
© I.D. Carswell 2007
Apologies to Benny Hill
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