ramblings and things

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The Cold War,  RAF Gatow 1962

We had to walk the duckboards across the mine field to our site.
Sometimes if you were lucky you'd catch the flash of light
reflected from the camera lens always focused there.
Coming smartly to attention to face the enemy full square,
salute him with a victory sign then quickly through the door
to the same old set up duty calling once more.
On leisure in Berlin having drunk your all,
pitch your empty bottles up against the Wall.
avoiding the places where flowers marked the spot
of those  would be escapers that the vopos shot
Early mornings on the runways avoiding the first flights
picking up the mushrooms that sprang up in the night.
They'd cook them for breakfast if you picked enough.
They seemed to kill the hangovers and stop the feeling rough.
You had to watch for snowdrops and their peculiar type of hell,
a fully escorted visit to a nasty little cell.
In those days we all believed that truth was white and black,
and in justice and democracy and the imminence of attack.
So, we did our bit for freedom against the tyrant foe
by propping up the system to maintain the status quo.

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The Cold War, RAF Gatow 1962