Hunger

He yelled he was hungry As he crashed through the door Stood there yelling and swaying On the billet room floor He demanded satisfaction But as no one wanted to fight He crashed back through the door And out into the night He’d said he was hungry Said he needed to eat He must have had a need For a taste of raw meat We saw him next morning A penitent sort of thief Returning to the cook house With a side of frozen beef He never got charged For everybody swore He’d found it that morning Outside our billet door An unsolved crime Which cost him dear With so many kleines Of cool Pilsner beer For a squaddie is a squaddie The creed never heard You never ever drop a fellow Into the deepest merde For a Rupert is a Rupert And it always will be so And sometimes there are things No Rupert needs to know