ramblings and things

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With the Ruperts and the Rodneys

In their Mess at the end of the day,

The RSM being satisfied the unit

Is all satisfactorily squared away,

The sergeants and the seniors

And those OR's with a wife

Have wandered off to their pads

To resume their married life.


The Sergeants Mess bar is open

And they've other things on their mind

And  apart from the duty picket

It's the end of the week's daily grind;

The squaddies in their billets

After a short gonk on their pit

Are all civvied up

With a bit of polish and spit


To sally forth to civvie land

Each one to choose,

Cherchez la femme

Or just cherchez le booze.

The Ruperts and the Rodneys

May play high spirited drinking games

While In the sergeants mess 

More raucous versions of the same.


And the  squaddies on the town.  

Wander down the street.

To find a pleasant pub

And chat to any birds they meet.

At the ending of the night

Each group wander to their beds

And come the morning many

Will wake with throbbing heads,


But it's only Saturday morning

With many hours to recover

And maybe a few more pints 

Before the weekends over.

Come Monday morning

They're parading on the square

 Not a single AWOL,

Every single soldier there.


Lots of hard work

And a maybe long wait

Until the Roster rolls around

To their next 48.

They work and play hard for,

In these days of international strife,

There's no guarantee 

Of living a long happy life.


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