Dragging a Mate Down from a High Horse

I was at a reunion to catch up with mates from long ago

With a bride who was convinced that I was her hero

Such joy as I recognised familiar faces well known for many sins

I introduced my wife for whom I had fought hard to win

Quick as a flash they were yarning to her with big grins

 

Smelling blood, they were like sharks waiting to strike

Circling and waiting; you know what they’re like

“We use to spent hours dressing him for a big day” Don said

“Gawd, soon after on parade, you’d swear he’d just got out of bed Overseas it was even worse and he couldn’t do anything right

He stumbled up and down the hills as if blind with sandy blight

So I said to Moff; our mate aint gunna see the tour through

He’s so bloody clumsy and hopeless; what can we do?”

Moff joined in and laughed while waving yet another empty glass

“I told Don, Officer School; he’s so useless he would have to pass”

 

Like old times, there was much humour throughout the night

We lied, mocked; insulted each other and each claimed he was right

When it was over, no matter if my armour be dull or bright

My bride became aware that such comrades are like no others

Yet despite their many terrible flaws, would always be my brothers

George Mansford © October 201