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Old 7th Dec 2015, 16:29
  #317 (permalink)  
Mr Oleo Strut
 
Join Date: Oct 2013
Location: London, Monte Carlo and Bermuda (I wish!)
Age: 80
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Defence cuts - found this mouldering in an aircraft scrap-yard the other day. Apparently attributable to a F/O Peter Wyton. It seems strangely appropriate these days:


This poem was written by Peter Wyton [pen name] when he was serving at RAF Wyton in the early 70s. There is no objection at all to the poem being circulated but please ensure that it is always attributed to Peter. More info about him at www.myspace.com/peterwytonpoet The poem often turns up in a rather muddled form, the correct form is copied below.
Regards
L. Fisher [Peter's manager].

THE UNKINDEST (DEFENCE) CUT OF ALL

I'm the last man left in the Air Force,
I've an office in the M.O.D.
And a copy of Queen's Regulations
Which only apply to little me.
I can post myself off to Leuchars
And detach me from there to Kinloss
Or send me on a course to Innsworth
Then cancel the lot - I'm the Boss.

I'm the last man left in the Air Force
But the great parliamentary brains
Omitted, when cancelling people,
To sell off the stations and planes,
The result is, my inventory bulges
With KD and camp stools and Quarters,
Plus a signed book of speeches by Trenchard
That I keep to impress the reporters.

I'm the last man left in the Air Force,
I suppose you imagine it's great
To be master of all you survey but
I tell you, it's difficult, mate.
I inspected three units last Thursday
As A.O.C. (Acting) of Strike,
Then I swept half the runway at Laarbruch
And repaired Saxa Vord's station bike.

I'm the last man left in the Air Force,
My wife says I'm never at home,
When I'm not flying Hercs I'm at Manston,
Laying gallons and gallons of foam,
Or I'm in my Marine Craft at Plymouth,
Shooting flares at the crowds on the Ho,
Or I'm Orderly Corporal at Uxbridge,
It's an interesting life, but all go.


I'm the last man left in the Air Force,
I'm A.D.C. to the Queen,
I'm Duty Clerk at St. Mawgan,
I'm the R.A.F. rugby team,
Tomorrow I'm painting a guardroom
And air-testing several planes,
The day after that I'm for London
To preach at St. Clement Dane's.

I'm the last man left in the Air Force
And I'm due to retire before long,
There's been no talk of any replacement
And I won't even let me sign on.
I hope to enjoy my retirement,
I've put up a pretty good show,
But I won't cut myself off entirely.
There are always reunions, y'know.

© Peter Wyton
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