a poem about us instructors

[fraggle 4]

Found this on a pic at our local trainin wing and like it. any military instructors on here will like this lol.

 

On Sunday they would arrive, all eager and keen.

Determined to become the best fighting machine.

For being a soldier they had elected to become

To march and to serve, at the beat of the drum.

 

New faces and haircuts, new clothing to wear

Kiwi polish and brasso, was the smell in the air.

Bed blocks, locker layouts, and stand by your beds

cos the corporal is inbound, the time they all dread.

 

Three ranks full of crows, wearing berets all wrong

A soldier not yet, you are still but a mong.

We will drill you, train you and sharpen your mind

We are instructors of soldiers, not friendly or kind.

 

We shape them and mould them and give them some pride

The week ones are binned, as there is nowhere to hide.

They start to dress smartly with shoulders pulled back

They are becoming soldiers, our mission is on track.

 

They are learning the skills that a soldier should know

Shooting to kill, engage the enemy with great foe.

To work as a team, and to get the job done

To stand and to fight, when others would run.

 

The training is finished and our mission complete

a fine bunch of 'Squaddies' it has been quite a feat.

They must now go and play in the soldiering game

And remember who trainined them, remember our name.

 

So another bunch of soldiers the factory passes out

The block now empty, no whisper or shout.

But soon will come Sunday, and it all starts again

Another bunch of mongs for us instructors to train.

 

To teach and to train, inspire, shape and mould

To lecture and guide you must be both proud and bold.

An instructor of soldiers, a profession so high

Just some of the great qualities, of a typical MTI.

[fraggle 4]

guess there is no mti's here then lol.