A Army Instructors Poem

Discussion in 'Postwar' started by Drew5233, Dec 28, 2008.

  1. Drew5233

    Drew5233 #FuturePilot Patron 1940 Obsessive

    Shamelessly robbed from another site :D

    On Sunday they would arrive, all eager and keen.
    Determined to become the best fighting machine.
    For being a soldier they had elected to become
    To march and to serve, at the beat of the drum.

    New faces and haircuts, new clothing to wear
    Kiwi polish and brasso, was the smell in the air.
    Bed blocks, locker layouts, and stand by your beds
    cos the corporal is inbound, the time they all dread.

    Three ranks full of crows, wearing berets all wrong
    A soldier not yet, you are still but a mong.
    We will drill you, train you and sharpen your mind
    We are instructors of soldiers, not friendly or kind.

    We shape them and mould them and give them some pride
    The week ones are binned, as there is nowhere to hide.
    They start to dress smartly with shoulders pulled back
    They are becoming soldiers, our mission is on track.

    They are learning the skills that a soldier should know
    Shooting to kill, engage the enemy with great foe.
    To work as a team, and to get the job done
    To stand and to fight, when others would run.

    The training is finished and our mission complete
    a fine bunch of 'Squaddies' it has been quite a feat.
    They must now go and play in the soldiering game
    And remember who trainined them, remember our name.

    So another bunch of soldiers the factory passes out
    The block now empty, no whisper or shout.
    But soon will come Sunday, and it all starts again
    Another bunch of mongs for us instructors to train.

    To teach and to train, inspire, shape and mould
    To lecture and guide you must be both proud and bold.
    An instructor of soldiers, a profession so high
    Just some of the great qualities, of a typical MTI.


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