Memories from childhood can be powerful, especially if they have strong emotional ties. Sgt McDonald terrorised all the kids in our primary school, however he was much loved by the school staff. When the news was broken to our class there was instant relief, quickly followed by an overwhelming feeling of sadness as our teacher wept uncontrollably after breaking the news.
A CHILDHOOD MEMORY
Our janitor was a military man
an ex regimental Sergeant Major
our playground was his parade
each child a tiny soldier
He’d line us up in rows of two
straight as straight could be
he’d scream and shout at such pitch
it deafened all of we
Onwards, marched to our class
at attention there to wait
until the teachers supped their tea
or cleared their dinner plate
Sgt McDonald was his name
he owned that bloody school
to break a window or drop some trash
you were a risky fool
Wounded as he crossed the Rhine
in the blast of a exploding shell
his body it was fragment filled
they said his pain was hell
One day it came, he was not there
and a silence fell around
our teacher said his shrapnel moved
and he’d dropped dead to the ground.