A Squaddie's Tale

The telephone’s shrill ringing Jerked me from my sleep To hear the voice break Heard him start to weep. I knew just how hard That he’d been trying To hold back the pain, To stop himself from crying. Broken and shattered At just twenty four He just couldn’t take it, Had had enough of War. Back at the Regiment, In a state of despair, He took the Waccy Baccy Walk across the Drill Square Not realising the consequences Out in the world at large, A mentally disturbed civvie With a Dishonourable Discharge. We found him early one morning A combat hardened Veteran Waiting there in ambush Looking out for some Taliban. The Veterans Brotherhood Quickly took him in hand For in all truth who were More likely to understand Than those who’ve been there, Those who’ve talked the talk And, each in their own way, Have at least Walked the walk Now he’s back in touch Knows he’s not alone, Knows at least there’s a voice On the other end of the phone, Knows a fellow veteran Will always be there, Knows they’ll try to understand, And, non judgementally, they’ll care.