What do you do with an old soldier,
Who is obviously past his prime?
When the world has left him far behind,
And he has long since done his time.
There’s no demand for second-hand airmen,
Who can’t flap their wings anymore.
The skills they had are now far-gone,
Used up on some foreign shore.
They’ve forgotten which hand they use to salute,
And no way can they stay in step.
They’re wearing trusses and taking pills,
To try and restore their pep.
The old uniform is a trifle tight,
and the battle stars shiny no more.
They’ve re-fought the war a thousand times,
Behind a bar-room’s open door.
No one wants to hear over again
Of a war now many years past.
And people whisper behind their backs…
“How long can these old geezers last?”
Well, these old geezers have memories galore.
For them, their buddies never grow old.
And those oft-repeated war-time tales
Are important to always be told!
They tell of a time when life was precious,
Because it was so easy to lose.
And you relied on the guy who was next to you,
Taking risks that could not be refused.
A lot of our comrades have taken the flight
To that Airfield of No Return.
But to those of us left they’ll never be gone,
Which is something some people don’t learn.
The bond that one soldier has for another
Is something that’s hard to explain.
It lasts through separation of many a year,
Yet stays fresh as the morning rain.
So when anyone says of the old soldiers,
“Why are these guys in the news?”
Just give them all the ‘thousand yard stare’
And say, “Hey pal, we’ve more than paid our dues!”
Bill Arbuckle
1921-2007
Note: Dad was called to the RAF Code and Cypher school at Magdalene College. Classes were held in secret so as not to attract German intelligence in the hopes that Oxford would escape the bombings.
After ‘graduation’ he found himself on a troop ship cruising down the Thames. Once through the English Channel he was called up to the Bridge to decode an urgent message. That’s when he -and the Captain- found they were headed for the invasion of North Africa with the British Infantry Units.
A 19 year old kid with 2 cyanide tablets, and orders to use them if it looked like capture because he had knowledge of the top-secret Allied Codes. He came out of the crucible that was the Mediterranean some 4 years later… at the age of 24, a much older man. Battle stars, commendations and scars to last a lifetime.
The willingness to sacrifice themselves, and whatever future they had, is why we know the quality of life we have today. RIP to all!
4 thoughts on “Recycled Soldiers”
Hear hear! Hats off to them all. My dad included! Navy guy!
God bless them for stepping up and being willing to sacrifice all they were!!!
My dad was a survivor of WWII. He served in the Army Air Corps, predecessor of the Air Force. He was in Communications, so he wasn’t on the front line, but, still, he saw things he never forgot. After he retired, he went to reunions in Europe. Those men formed a bond that never broke & they never forgot serving their country.
They carried the memories both good and bad… as well as the scars all their lives. And we are the beneficiaries and live a better life because of them.