A colleague in the LAS recently posted a great poem to explain why she is proud to wear her 10 year service badge.
Not just a badge
All the study and tests, the ‘just do your best’.
The stress, the fears and the hidden tears.
The built up frustration.
The long cold nights, and sleep deprivation.
The no breaks and off lates.
The turned down invitations and missed celebrations.
The babies delivered, the sound of a cry.
A quiet last breath, the final goodbye.
The smell of burnt skin, and the retching within.
The bullets, the blades, the hope as it fades.
The sirens, the lights, the Friday night fights.
The vomit, the mud, the urine and blood.
The old LDV’s, MDT’s, PRF’s and OMG’s!
The suffering and strain. The ‘number 10’ pain.
The hangings, the jumpers, the ‘under a train’.
The look of despair when there’s no one else there.
The struggle to prove that you really do care.
The face of a stranger in imminent danger.
A shock of the heart as you help it restart.
The thanks of a mother, or sister and brother, the difference you make to the life of another.
An outstretched hand, the never give up.
A quick sip of tea in a throwaway cup.
The laughs and the humour, the banter and rumours.
The people you meet, the skills that you know. The crew mates, the colleagues, who help you to grow.
It’s not just a badge, it means so much more, it’s the memories and life of an old dinosaur!
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