The way I see it, I didn’t choose …. I was made this way (sorry about the length..lol)
It’s been hard it’s been twisted and so full of strife, the path we have walked through this abstracted life.
Without roots or firm purchase we could not become trees, travelling the world like a killer disease.
I say like a killer ….for dangerous we were , only the foolish chose our wrath to incur.
It made us all solid when faced with a threat , it’s one of those things I’ll never forget .
We all had our moments, I’m sure we’ll remember … the tears when you hear “We move in September”,
For some in those moments they were tears of joy , “..finally, away from that girl(or that boy )”
A new house, fresh adventures and places to find , but always you know in the back of your mind…
You love it here. you have friends …. so much fun ,“…but I wanna stay here!” you scream at your mum.
But you’re just a small cog, not even a wheel, the forces …the world, doesn’t care how you feel,
So following your duty just doing as you’re told, with toys and your ski suit your pj’s you fold.
Packed up in your room box, no secrets could hide.. for mum and dad packing would sure look inside.
So to meaningless objects, and to those who you know you’d say your good byes … then bin as you go.
We all know it’s hard we all had to do it, some more than others .. yet some hardly knew it.
And then we met civvies.. that unusual breed, so varied and random like chickens at feed.
They crow and they bluster and scratch at the floor, and think that you’re weak when you walk out the door.
For they know not the fury.. we all hold inside, held back with respect in a mental divide.
See life didn’t just train us to be self assured , as singles we’re dangerous ,more random ,more bored.
We see civvie street’s broken in so many places, chocked full of people with all the same faces.
We see them all day wherever we live, bent cops and the dealers ,the chavs and the divs.
If you are like me and have developed the same… It’s like being a camera.. watching a game….
So like a French movie’s crap, and predictable ending… our way of life we’ve no way of defending,
For scattered we were when the Forces were finished , their argument over.. the threat was diminished.
So sentenced to England for our crime of pride , like sleepers we spread thru the civvies to hide.
Our struggles ignored we adapted like normal , except this place had snobs.. who treat things so formal.
Don’t know about you ,but I find I must say , “ask” me for anything… and I’ll help you all day.
But get yourself lordy .. give me a command.. then problems you’ll find you have on your hands,
For orders I took when I was so little, have left me quite delicate.. in fact… fairly brittle ..
Now I’m a big kid, you have no more hold, and really… I’m through.. with doing as I’m told.
For I am a pads brat a thing known to few, and if you’re reading this far… I’ll presume you’re one too.
So if in your day you come up against shite, or that little twat in the dead of the night.
Your manager , your workmate ,whoever annoys .. Take just one small moment ,to remember your toys.
Cos going thru our lives we just got to know it , annoy me enough ……and here.??… “I‘ll just throw it”.
For that is our way .. of change we‘re not frightened , sometimes it’s better when problems are lightened,
So if you’re like me and you are proud of your past ,then may this group help you, and long may it last.
Over this season when out drinking beer, raise your glass up and let out a cheer
Do it when drunk… in well crowded places, then watch for reactions on all others faces ..
Most will just stare .. Others will blink… but the ones that we want… will smile, toast and wink ..
So raise up those glass’s and chant it out loud ,… we are best of British… “PADS BRAT AND PROUD!!!”
1 comment:
I'm not an army brat, at least not in the ways you describe, but I'm the son of a soldier, and to a lage extent, my life and outlook are formed from the lessons my dad learned during the second world war, and as a prisoner of war in Singapore.
I never really thought of it in that way, until after he died. When I was writing and emailing his friends all around the world, and then meeting some at his funeral. To see the bonds forged so strongly that these men were still supporting each other, standing firm against all threats after sixty years.
I learned discipline and respect, I learned to value friends, to be trustworthy, I learned that sometimes life isn't fair, but you never give up, keep going forward.
My mother, pregnant and with a toddler clinging to her said "Oh no you don't!", When my dad's old Brigadier got in touch to offer him a commission and a free trip to Korea. She said he was eager to go, ready to pack his kitbag, thinks he thought battle was easier than babies.
My nieces were airforce brats, constantly relocating, resilient, Now they're grown up, I think they miss it, being part of the machine. The most difficult time they had was when their dad was the C.O., apparently other military brats either give you a hard time, or keep their distance.
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