Troupie Blues

We're tired sore and wet, have not reached the road yet.
Yet thoughts of shower and a rub, some good fresh grub.
Invade each man's mind, whilst the bush is unkind.
Mud building up on boots, walking like clumsy coots.

Radio crackles and speaks, it is the base camp geeks.
No truck comes to us upload, too much mud in the road.
Have to walk back to camp, it's a good three hour stamp.
We feel so damn depressed, that we stop for some rest.

Then someone talks of food, creates a rather foul mood.
Now we're up and hit that road, mindless of the heavy load.
Two hours flat we're at the gate, but for sup we find we're late.
Cooks produce a meal out of, rat packs cooked up on the stove.

At least hot shower we can get, waters used up we're too late yet.
Shivering shower and muscle pain, but it wont help to complain.
Now find a spot for the night, then make the bivvy very tight.
A few chibulies to rest our head, too late barman's gone to bed.

CSM comes to give us tasks, no days rest someone asks?
Fireforce he'll have us do, now it's time for stand too.
Signal sounds we're on the run, take off in the rising sun.
Get a briefing in the air, need to know before we're there.

They hit a farmhouse in the night, then ran away before first light.
Now we're running on the tracks, mindless of our heavy rucksacks.
They are dropping booty on the way, running in the heat of day.
Tracks are easy to follow, in the soft ground through the hollow.

Suddenly a crackling sound, flashes come from all around.
Instinct tells you what to do, just keep firing run right through.
Turn around head back in, now the firing's getting thin.
Some surrender some just run, double tap them now my son.

Change in tempo storm has past, regroup take some rest at last.
Chopper coming overhead, to gather up those that are dead.
No chopper ride back to base, the long walk out we must face.
At the road wait for truck to come, all of us quiet very mum.

Each from different walks in life, some single some with wife.
Each contemplating what was done, cos this killing is no fun.
Back at base hero's for a day, then we pack get on our way.
Each in his mind hope that one day, peace will come to this land to stay.

Written by Pete Barlow 20/02/2001
Email : Pete Barlow