Ha - I was made a CUO (cadet under-officer) at boarding school on the
strength of my father having been one, and some military history in the
family. Needless to say, my platoon of some 40-odd teenage schoolboys were
querulous at Singleton bivouac, and then mutinied outright at the annual
passing out parade, sabotaging almost every display they were in. I have
memories of canoes sinking and youths dangling helplessly from abseil
displays, and a puce-faced major (in his daily life a Marist Brother, and at
night given to drunken renditions of 'Sweet Adeline') screaming every threat
he could muster if I didn't rein them in. As if.
And the indignity of being saluted by real NCOs and soldiers whenever we
were in their company, simply for wearing those little, meaningless,
diamond-shaped epaulettes.
Caleb
On Thu, Oct 30, 2008 at 10:53 AM, Tina Bass <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> That 's a very powerful poem.
>
> A rough flamm maybe? Passion and punch.
>
> Tina--------------------------------------------------------------
> [log in to unmask] http://www.fatmandancing.co.uk
> http://www.myspace.com/fat_man_dancing > Date: Thu, 30 Oct 2008 07:45:25
> +0900> From: [log in to unmask]> Subject: Re: snap: cadets (for Max)>
> To: [log in to unmask]> > LMG: is Light Machine Gun, of which Owens
> are one.> A flamm is a two stick hit, almost simultaneously, making a rough
> note, on a> drum.> Drumming took me into chemical warfare on myself. I have
> since stopped> drumming and drugging. Being an impressionable young
> poet-drummer is a> dangerous role!> > Andrew> > 2008/10/30 Max Richards <
> [log in to unmask]>> > > O Andrew, so much visual and verbal
> felicity...> >> > (not that I know what LMG is short for.> > Owens, I guess,
> are more modern machine guns than Brens.> > Is flamming a slip for flaming?>
> > What became of the drumming?> >> > best from Max> >> > Quoting andrew
> burke <[log in to unmask]>:> >> > > "Hey, watch this."> > > We'd take
> out their legs first> > > in the LMG group, then> > > go for the body.
> Regular army> > > left us to their devices> > > on the range. They had> > >
> made me sergeant because> > > I could play drums. Logic> > > escapes. Here
> we were,> > > with our Owens, shooting off> > > at the mouth and> > >
> paradiddling the legs off> > > targets in the secondary dunes.> > >> > > *>
> > >> > > "Got a Lucky Strike?"> > > we sat at small desks> > > in Junior
> School,> > > flamming desktops,> > > using inkwells as ashtrays.> > > I drew
> some triplets> > > and bars of 6/8 to> > > look 'the real thing' should> > >
> our regular officer saunter down> > > to our practice room. I envied> > > my
> friend: his mother> > > a famous writer, his left hand> > > more flexible
> than mine.> > > He never wore his webbing> > > right and his boots had> > >
> last week's march on them.> > > Now sixty something, he falls> > > between
> pub> > > and shack, town drunk in> > > a fishing village, happy> > > on his
> lonesome.> > >> > >> > > Andrew> > > http://hispirits.blogspot.com/> > >
> http://www.flickr.com/photos/aburke/> > >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >
> ------------------------------------------------------------> > This email
> was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au> >> > > > -- >
> Andrew> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/>
> http://www.flickr.com/photos/aburke/
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