´óÏó´«Ã½

1. The Regimental Centre, 9,000 Feet Up

Nowadays malaria’s a court martial offence,
but a poisoned proboscis has poked me in Lahore.

Still with leave, I sweat it out,
and Moti brings me mepocrene.

Inside my cabin bed among the pine trees
I’m outside, on the needles, trembling.

Three white ghosts — Siamese triplets —
walk right through me, and I want to shriek.

Back on parade, malaria unreported,
I fall asleep on my feet.

In the Mess too I fall asleep
and miss the MO’s funeral.

My new CO has noticed. I'm posted
nine thousand feet down, where

it’s hot and we live in straw huts.

2. Straw Huts in Kumaon and Albert’s There Again

It’s sticky here, but Captain Gallup
and I swing Albert round our straw-roofed mess.

She goes to the women's quarters, smashes
their bathroom and eats their toothpaste.

I’m in for early demob, but this young
cold-eyed CO says it’s not so.

He makes me Quartermaster. I have to sign
for each damned round and gun.

A week later, though, my papers are through.
I smile at him like toothpaste

and I pack and go.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.