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Poetry from within

On the way to Bosnia on a Mighty fat Albert

On the way to Bosnia on a Mighty fat Albert

Many hours pass, Concorde its not

I was serving as part of the crew

Before the return journey I had a job to do

On seating of red webbing many will know

My head in a book when in flight

I had a white butty box packed with food

Most of it looked like it was pre-chewed

We landed without much incident on a runway somewhere

Taxied to a stop and engines shut down

Stepping out, it was a clear bright day

Chatted to some Italians who are there for a long stay.

It was a pleasant place in the middle of nowhere

And miles from the terminal with no vehicle

I decided to relieve myself on the grass near by

Before I took a step the Italians let out a warning cry

Waving their hands and shouting to me

I finally understood not to step on the grass

I thought that it was the same typical military rules and fines

But from their hand gestures I realised the grass was full of mines

The views for me had lost their interesting appeal

There was no where safe where concrete did not lay

So I decided to step back on the aircraft

I went to finish my necessary task

We took off with our new load to head back to Blighty

Still climbing we passed a disgruntled local

he aimed at us with an AK47 in his grasp

He let rip and hit us as we flew past

I had no idea that it was happening

Until we got back I was in the dark

You see on the Hercules it is just a little noisy

On the ground we found on the fin a hole or three

But the tail does not end there oh no

Over London in Heathrow airspace we flew

When a warning came over the radio to hard bank

A civvy Jet liner passed close by, the pilots reaction we had to thank

I could see the passengers through the windows

I'm sure they could damn well see us too

So all in all an uneventful military run

At the time it was all part of the military fun

Chris Duncan