Vintage cyder was a killer,
It left the mind very clear
But somehow made the legs
Rather difficult to steer,
Which was why Old Scouse
Was contemplating the skies
Sitting gracefully in a ditch
With water up to his thighs.
I slid in beside him
Sat in the water too
For some reason it seemed
The right thing to do
And we talked of this and that
Until he said he felt Ok
Then we climbed back out
And cotinued on our way.
That’s squaddie friendship
You just dont desert a mate
Though it raised a few questions
There at the Guardroom gate
As we stood there dripping
Having to explain
Our sodden condition
When we’d not had any rain.
Explanation accepted
Without the blink of an eye
And so off to the Billet
To get our civvies dry.
When you’ve lived in a billet
Learned how to share
Survived the odd beasting
Sweated blood on the sqare
Got to the stage when
You cant take it anymore
The squad will rally round
Pick you up off thef loor
For the Army is the Army
And a friend is a friend
Through thick and thin
Until the very bitter end.
You’ll maybe lie and deny
In the cause of his defence
Though in any other situation
It wouldn’t make amy sense,
But you’re loyal to a friend,
That’s what friendship’s for.
It may be hard to understand
But it’s called Esprit de Corps..
