You can't be an agnostic
The Recruiting Sergeant said
As he looked at me sagely
Gently shaking his head.
The Army wouldn't like that
Blot on your records that would be
We'll use your parents religion
Shall we you're say C of E,
Just a tick in a box
That would have been blank
It's just a formality like
Your number and rank.
I should have said no
With benefit of hindsight
Because that little white lie
Later on came back to bite.
I marched the squad to church
Then I fell out at the door.
No use me going in because
I didn't do religion any more.
The Padre was a Major and
He may have been man of God
But as I was marched in
To me he looked an evil sod.
I threw up a salute
As he sat there
Coldly pointing to
The empty chair.
I tried to explain
But it did no good
Not that I had ever
Thought that it would
So I asked how he balanced
His two opposing roles
An officer and a gentleman
And a saviour of souls.
Wasn't his role rather
To be trying to save me,
Attack being the best
Form of defence you see
He glared at me
Started to splutter
Thought again
And started to mutter
And that's when
He started to shout
And not long after
He threw me
Saying folk like me
Shouldn't be at large
And was I lucky not
To be on a charge
My religion was changed
But Major the Padre
Regarded me for evermore
With a filthy sort of glare
Remember this was
At the height of the Cold War
When they constantly feared
Reds knocking at the door
.
