Old Deserter

When my grandson Gavin was a young pup I sat him on my knee and he asked,"what is that hard thing in your pocket Grandpa?" No, wishful thinking on my part methinks... he said "what did you do during the war Grandpa?" what a cute little inquiring mind he had. "Well I hid from the authorities until the fighting was over my boy, but then I resurfaced from under the outside lavvie and I pretended to have killed loads of Germans, Japs, Italians, ghey French and Americans, especially Americans, the horrible cunts, and I raped villagers and burned their homes to the ground."

It was a few weeks before I was allowed to see Gavin again due to some bad dreams he kept having.

Called 'The Great War' but I've seen better on the telly, in my own mind I was off on me own sneaking into enemy camps and quietly killing and scalping every other sleeping man to really freak them out. They called me 'The Piss Shadow' as all that proved I was there besides the hairless corpses and some cigarette butts was the faint smell of piss in the air.

It was 3 weeks since the war had finished that I believed it was finally over, a well hung young soldier who was stuck up me and covering my rear flanks in man-fat was smacking me like a bitch with a newspaper who convinced me. I thought about all of those soldiers I had killed mistakenly during a time of peace and thought to myself 'I could have got more damn-it'.

War is hell and plays havoc with yer skin. Hiding beneath the outdoor shitter can be dark and dank and tends to turn the skin quite grey. I have nothing but respect for those who sign up to serve their cuntry and do so with honour, those who sign up with the idea of getting money for college are too dumb to be going to college but if they step up to the plate and do their job well they also earn my respect.

Giving yer life to defeat evil is the noblest of causes and many do so and never have their stories told or having to live half a life due to disabilities caused by war should give you a free comfortable ride for the rest of yer life, a country should look after it's heroes. It should also string up the deserters by the neck for their cowardice, and I for one would look good in a diamante noose around my long pencil neck.

I believe that war is a necessary evil. Sometimes you have no choice but to go and wipe out some nation a little bit. I'm thinking Canada for one... Nothing there but hairy legged, rapidly ageing bisexual female (but only just) bloggers who write shite instead of working for a living.

Imagine serving in a war that you don't agree with, sure its not a soldier's place to have an opinion on certain things they just need to do their job. Shoot first, rob corpses, shit on the ground, run like fuck back to the free drugs that make you kill innocent ghey men who accidently backed on to one another amidst the yellowing clouds of mustard gas. Never did me any har..har..har..harm.

The wars of terror are fucking stupid and a waste of ghey life. The IRA bombed London plenty of times but Ireland was never invaded for it in case the Guinness factory got hit and every coont was left with that weak Budweiser piss to get drunk on. May ghod save the protestant King Sir Gerry of Belfast for his connections at No 10.

Its all just to get a permanent foothold in the middle east all so very passive aggressive. Russia couldn't invade Afghanistan and the Yanks are in no shape or form tougher than them, hence giving it over to the U.N. I think about those I have pretended to serve with and those still out there. The ghosts of the past and present will still be around. I just want to say thank you and bless them all from the safety of my dugout underneath the backyard crapper.  

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