A Heart felt poem

#1
It just took me about 15 minutes so bare with me on spelling etc




Into the bar walks Tommy Atkins the local war hero
In his day he was a was a fighting man but now to war he does not go
If people only new the life that Tommy used to lead
They might just buy Tommy a drink and shake his hand they would indeed

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

Tommy was sent to Germany in the height of the cold war
However the Russians didn't want to fight so his work became a bore
So Tommy took off his green kit and threw on his best new clothes
and headed off into Paderborn in search of filthy Hoes.

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

He would find himself in a bar sat with his best mate
He would drink himself into a stupor and get in a right old state
He'd feel the bar maids breasts when she came to serve his booze
and when the doorstaff came to throw him out he'd fight but quickly lose

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

He'd stumble into the street and hard target left and right
he'd look up and see the greatest thing the Brothels Neon Lights
He'd pull himself together and tuck his shirt back in,
and prepare to get his end away with the slags who worked within

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

Once inside Tommy would look and see lovely ladies all around
He'd dip into his pockets and work out what deutschmarks were in pounds
He would then search out a princess his bride for the next hour
and do his best to untuck his shirt to hide his trouser tower

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

Tommy would wake up in the morning head banging like a drum
His groin would still be itching and he'd notice his sore bum
He would check inside his pockets he'd just spent all his cash
Then he'd think back to yesterdays great night on the lash

For Tommy was a soldier all over the world he went to fight
and in countries the world all over he's seen some nasty sights
There is never a day that goes by that Tommy doesn't think
If he had his time again he wouldn't change a thing.

So sat back in the bar was Tommy the war hero
In his day he was a was a fighting man but now to war he does not go
If people only new the life that Tommy used to lead
They might just buy Tommy a drink and shake his hand they would indeed


Bad_Crow would like to state that this is purely fictional. Any likeness to serving or ex serving soldiers is purley coincidental.
 
#2
Hopefully this will balance things out anybody got any verses they would like to add to Tommy's tale.

I never did get to Belize or hong kong so exotic diseases caught in action would be better told by somebody else.
 
#5
londonirish said:
In the third stanza, it is suggested that Thomas left the army while stagging on in BAOR, but elected to stay in Germany.

What of him now?
Its poetic Irony. What he actually did was get a biff chit for having a tendon problem and got himself on light duties. However he was quite pally with his Platoon Sergeant who was his brother in law thanks to his sister being a bit gamey. This often got him weeks off here and there where his main duties would be picking up fags and other stuff from a yank PX.

He got out as a passed over sergeant after doing his 22. He now works for an engineering firm which deals in CCTV units.
 
#8
I'll give you this Bad_Crow - your poem, tongue-in-cheek though it is, is still about 14 times more touching than that one about Santa and the squaddie sleeping in his one-bedroom cottage.

PS If anyone doesn't know the poem to which I refer, just give it a week - I guarantee some maniac will post it again by next Tuesday...
 
#9
I've had it four times.

What a load of tosh. People are going to start feeling sorry for the army instead of just supporting them.

What the poem doesn't tell you is he is twice divorced has 5 kids. Rents the cottage out whilst he's on tour and was sleeping on the floor because his bed had to be burnt to rid it of crabs.
 
#10
Tommy's eyes turn away as he tries to remember
the many friends and tank park mates gathering in his head.
He tries to name them one and all but struggles to recall
the names, the dates, all lost forever in a far off piece of England

For Tommy was a Soldier...

He sits alone now, his medals gleaming bright.
He yearns to be there, that place of sand and unforgiven light,
for that is where our man, once tall and brave and strong
can, at last, join those long lost friends for just one more final song.

For Tommy was a Soldier...



Not a touch on Bad Crow but still an offering.

MWA
 
#11
wedge35 said:
I'll give you this Bad_Crow - your poem, tongue-in-cheek though it is, is still about 14 times more touching than that one about Santa and the squaddie sleeping in his one-bedroom cottage.

PS If anyone doesn't know the poem to which I refer, just give it a week - I guarantee some maniac will post it again by next Tuesday...
I remember adding to it last year, a bit where the squaddie wakes up, and gives Santa one up the bum, having been asked which regiment he was in.

The suaddie in my augmented poem was a Guardsman of course.
 
#12
londonirish said:
wedge35 said:
I'll give you this Bad_Crow - your poem, tongue-in-cheek though it is, is still about 14 times more touching than that one about Santa and the squaddie sleeping in his one-bedroom cottage.

PS If anyone doesn't know the poem to which I refer, just give it a week - I guarantee some maniac will post it again by next Tuesday...
I remember adding to it last year, a bit where the squaddie wakes up, and gives Santa one up the bum, having been asked which regiment he was in.

The suaddie in my augmented poem was a Guardsman of course.
Not 3PARA Mortars.
 

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