(While our fundraising for Hull Veterans Support Centre I got chatting to this ex National Service Para. This is his, not so rare, story.)
So, they took me off at eighteen,
An inexperienced, callow youth,
And they drilled into my brain
Their version of the truth.
They paid me slavery wages
And tried to break my will
Tried to make me a robot
With the ability to kill!
It was Kenya for the Mau Mau
Then, in my second year,
Shipped off to Asia
To fight in South Korea.
After that it was Malaysia
To round off my service life
As if I hadn't seen enough
Hardship, conflict and strife.
Too young to vote,
But old enough to die
Very few escaped it
Or even asked why.
Nations Service they called it
Slavery by any other name,
An extra year for more pay
I did in that barmy Army game.
Not just to be a martyr, or
A ready for slaughter lamb,
So I could send needed cash
Home to my struggling Mam.
Nowadays they complain about
So many of us living for so long.
I get the impression some politicos
Wish us all long dead and gone.
Three conflicts I experienced
In serving my three years
So, Mr Political Lackey, I reckon.
I earned the right to still be here.
