The British Soldier

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The British Soldier

Postby peterd » Sun Jun 06, 2010 12:01 pm

Just copied these post from another site i visit, oh so true






The average British soldier is 19 years old...he is a short haired, well
built lad who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half
man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears and just old enough to buy a
round of drinks but old enough to die for his country - and for you. He's
not particularly keen on hard work but he'd rather be grafting in
Afghanistan than unemployed in the UK . He recently left comprehensive
school where he was probably an average student, played some form of sport,
drove a ten year old rust bucket, and knew a girl that either broke up with
him when he left, or swore to be waiting when he returns home. He moves
easily to rock and roll or hip-hop or to the rattle of a 7.62mm machine gun.

He is about a stone lighter than when he left home because he is working or
fighting from dawn to dusk and well beyond. He has trouble spelling, so
letter writing is a pain for him, but he can strip a rifle in 25 seconds and
reassemble it in the dark. He can recite every detail of a machine gun or
grenade launcher and use either effectively if he has to. He digs trenches
and toilets without the aid of machines and can apply first aid like a
professional paramedic. He can march until he is told to stop, or stay dead
still until he is told to move.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation but he is not without a
rebellious spirit or a sense of personal dignity. He is confidently
self-sufficient. He has two sets of uniform with him: he washes one and
wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He
sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never forgets to clean his rifle.
He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes and fix his own hurts. If
you are thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food
is your food. He'll even share his life-saving ammunition with you in the
heat of a firefight if you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and regards his weapon as an
extension of his own hands. He can save your life or he can take it,
because that is his job - it's what a soldier does. He often works twice as
long and hard as a civilian, draw half the pay and have nowhere to spend it,
and can still find black ironic humour in it all. There's an old saying in
the British Army: 'If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined!'

He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short
lifetime. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen
in combat and he is unashamed to show it or admit it. He feels every bugle
note of the 'Last Post' or 'Sunset' vibrate through his body while standing
rigidly to attention. He's not afraid to 'Bollock' anyone who shows
disrespect when the Regimental Colours are on display or the National Anthem
is played; yet in an odd twist, he would defend anyone's right to be an
individual. Just as with generations of young people before him, he is
paying the price for our freedom. Clean shaven and baby faced he may be,
but be prepared to defend yourself if you treat him like a kid.

He is the latest in a long thin line of British Fighting Men that have kept
this country free for hundreds of years. He asks for nothing from us except
our respect, friendship and understanding. We may not like what he does,
but sometimes he doesn't like it either - he just has it to do.. Remember
him always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

And now we even have brave young women putting themselves in harm's way,
doing their part in this tradition of going to war when our nation's
politicians call on us to do so.




I am doing some sad ones at the moment - so bear with me

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'

Author Unknown~
A person should have an opinion on everything, It becomes tact whether you reveal that opinion or not.

http://www.deneview.co.uk/
peterd
 
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Re: The British Soldier

Postby grangers14 » Fri Jul 30, 2010 4:20 pm

oh Peter! :cry:
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Re: The British Soldier

Postby kiansmom » Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:37 am

my personal favourite




JUST A COMMON SOLDIER
(A Soldier Died Today)
by A. Lawrence Vaincourt

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one.

And tho' sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,
All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.

He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,
For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.
Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way,
And the world won't note his passing, though a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land
A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?

A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives
Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.
While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal and perhaps, a pension small.

It's so easy to forget them for it was so long ago,
That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know
It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand,
Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?
Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend
His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say,
Our Country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.
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