We walked to the barracks
Bernie, John, Eric and me
Time for call up
In the British Army
A beautiful morning
In the month of May
When we entered the gates
We were filled with dismay
The R.P’s greeted us
And shouted with glee
We hope you bastards
Will never be Free
Six weeks on the square
We marched up and down
Square bashing finished
We marched through the town
We marched to the station
The train took us away
After further training
We sailed far away
Hot sands and desert
Being sick on the sea
And two years later
We were home safe and Free
Bernie, John, Eric and me
Time for call up
In the British Army
A beautiful morning
In the month of May
When we entered the gates
We were filled with dismay
The R.P’s greeted us
And shouted with glee
We hope you bastards
Will never be Free
Six weeks on the square
We marched up and down
Square bashing finished
We marched through the town
We marched to the station
The train took us away
After further training
We sailed far away
Hot sands and desert
Being sick on the sea
And two years later
We were home safe and Free
Bill Underwood
From the series “National Service poems 1947-1949 by Bill Underwood “