Saturday, June 06, 2020

A/T O’Toole had been such a fool, going out when he should have been in.

So the very next day, with no undue delay, he was marched in to explain his sin.

The CO said, "O’ Toole, while you’re at this school, Standing Orders you have to obey."

"And to help you reform, seven days you’ll perform, and confined to these barracks you’ll stay."

O’Toole was so sad, it was hard for the lad to watch all his mates go to town,

While he had to work - he felt a right berk – peeling spuds till his fingers wore down.

And not only that, he had also to start getting kit bulled for evening parade,

Best SD to press, boots, belt, and then dress, attention to detail was paid.

For he knew, if he failed, he would then be assailed by the Orderly Sergeants great wrath,

And the following day, the price he would pay, on another charge, and that is tough.

For the cycle’d begin, the chances to sin while on Jankers, they would multiply,

So a seven day stint could become in an inst’t, a fortnight or worse, could apply.

Therefore, duly at nine, he stands in the line of Defaulters, so nervous and glum,

While the Sergeant, so slow, inspects the first row, as he’s waiting for his turn to come.

The Sarge, with a frown, eyes him up and then down, and turns on his heel, walks away.

Then O’Toole grits his teeth, breathes a sigh of relief, he’s survived for yet one more day.

The following dawn, O’Toole was forlorn at the prospect of six days to do,

All that bulling and beezing, a prospect displeasing, at the thought, his despondency grew.

So, up at Reveille, his courage he rallied, for he had an appointment with Fred,

And if he was late, such a terrible fate of more days, which filled him with dread.

Then, down to parade, with the others, he made his weary way to the Guardroom,

What jobs would he do? The Cookhouse, he knew, would be spuds again, peeling till noon.

But he thought he’d got lucky, a job not so mucky, he pulled QM’s detail – that’s good!

Inside, in the warm and the dry, he would try to filch items of kit if he could.

With his loot in his pocket, he knew he could flog it, when back to the Spider he went,

Selling ill-gotten gains, he would then take great pains to profit from his punishment.

But alas and alack, when reporting back to the QM’s department, he found

That instead of work cushy, with whitewash and brush, he was shown a dirty great mound

Of coal in the yard, and the going was hard, but "coal has to be whitewashed", it states,

To stop boys thieving the coal, and then heaving it all, over the fence to their mates.

Who, back at the Spider, then sat down beside the stove, stoking away till it glowed.

But the coal that was nicked, left a black mark, when picked, and the crime then quite obviously showed!

So O’Toole learned a lesson, it’s no use just guessing that jobs can be doddles, no fear!

To make such assumption shows sheer lack of gumption, as he found, while whitewashing the gear.

He thought that he’d cracked it, when he attracted the QM job, and so he laughed,

Forgetting that QM’s activities ranged wide, from cushy, to downright hard graft!

The worst time he’d spend was at the weekend, the Saturday film in Camp Hall,

While he polished the brass and mowed all the grass, he could hear the lads having a ball.

And so, as the days of his time slipped away, as he tried to avoid further strife,

Released at the end, he vowed not to offend ever again in his life !

And so it goes on, Jankers never was fun, it’s a punishment one must avoid,

But to give it wide berth, it never is worth to get those placed above you, annoyed.

Or you’ll live to regret it, and they won’t forget it, so humour them, make them feel good

So creep if you have to, although you won’t want to, it’s better than peeling those spuds!


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