Page 47 - The Royal Lancers Chapka 2019

REGIMENTAL JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL LANCERS (QUEEN ELIZABETHS’ OWN)
An Ode to C Squadron
Alas, it’s with a heavy heart and a deep sigh I’m off and it’s time to say goodbye.
We’ve ad us fun and it’s been a blast
But thank God I’m leaving, I’m outta here fast!
You’ve all been grand and its fitting to say thank you But a special mention is worthy of a certain few.
Our glorious leader, Major Bam
I can’t understand a word he says...
He only speaks Afrikaans.
He leads from the front like only he can,
He’s made me work for my money but I’m still a big fan.
And then there’s Mr Jibb, our 2IC;
What use is he? I just can’t see.
When he’s had enough, he jumps on his bike
Doesn’t tell anyone and drops the mike.
He’s always been a bit lairy and gets in a trifle,
But he’s always good for a social and never ever a stifle
Ahh Mr Nyambira, the elusive Squadron Sergeant Major
I can never get hold of him, I’m going to buy him a pager. When he’s on exercise he’s lost all the time,
If you find him, excuses will flow and he’ll say he’s fine, BUT mark my words, he won’t leave your tracks and just fol- lows your call sign!
He’s broke down, bogged in and forgets the golden rule.. Before you leave camp, check your litres to fill and put in some bloody fuel!
The SQMS, Sergeant Major Wooff.
If you need owt then he can’t do enough
Sun cream in winter, thermals in summer and other such use- less stuff
If he’s been on the beer, from his store you’ll hear a scratch and a scuff
Coz he’s making his bed again and sleeping rough.
Where would we be without our merry band of Troopies Following the Troop Sergeants around like dough eyed groopies
Genuinely what do these gentlement do?
No one has the foggiest, even the OC hasn’t a clue...
To the grafters, you guys, the tank park life
You’re a dodgy bunch, always in strife.
I’ve been places, thought I’d seen it all,
Right up until I saw Nicky Rainor make a poor signaller fall... There’s too many of you to mention, I could write a book And to every soldier, I wish you the best of luck.
Enough of this rhyme, here endeth Tiffy time, One last note if I may...
When you’ve all snapped me
I put on the battle locks, have a go on my vape and drift off to heaven –
“Peact OUT” on the net, “Bye bye from 37”.
C Sqn Artificer, “Tiffy Tosh” White
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