Royal Tank Regt - Again

A contribution thanks to Major Colin Hepburn, the Regimental Secretary of the Royal Tank Regiment. The following poem appeared in the Tank Corps Journal; the autor is only known as E.M.B. 

 

Oh! We're waiting for our Berets

And we're waiting for our tanks;

And we're waiting to return a very

Cordial vote of thanks.

 

To the Deities who've saved us

From that grease spot on the crown

And from that headache round the temples

When you got the chin strap down.

 

From that peak that saved our eyesight

When the sun was shining hot,

And passed us out at musketry

A blinking third class shot.

 

'Tis said the beret lets the wet

Run trickling down your back,

But the Jocks have got a bonnet

And they've not complained o' that!

 

Our beret has a flappy side

Which droops upon one ear.

There's more in that than meets the eye,

You bet my dearie dear.

 

The all-round traverse to the flap

Is worth a mint of gold,

You flap it round when it is hot,

And ditto when it's cold.

 

You can drop your beret in the sump,

Or leave it on the track

And get it back as good as new

Because it's issued black.

 

So we're waiting, yes, we're waiting

For our Berets and tanks,

And we're waiting to return a very

Cordial vote of thanks.