Onions

Paul Bell

The old church lay in ruins, left to languish in time.
He was sitting on the grave talking to Sergeant R Johnston.
Well, I suppose you want an update on the war.
Let me see now, where do I begin.
Monday 0500 hrs, Pete was the first to moan, fucking hate early mornings.
Well, you would stay up all night playing cards.
Yeah, well, just you remember that’s two million quid you owe me.
You better watch my back then, don’t hesitate to take a bullet for me, and for fuck sakes if you’re throwing grenades about, don’t forget, it’s not the pin you throw, it’s the grenade.
Piss off, I got overexcited.
The attack was sudden, Tony got hit, we were lucky, the ambush was poorly planned, we killed five before they ran.
Back at camp, I was starving, full English was a must, pass the sauce old chap, is that this month's Playboy you're reading, just love reading the stories.
Yeah, right.
Just last week I was reading about this woman who made love to an onion, brought tears to my eyes, do you know her life unravelled in front of her.
You’re full of shit, don’t get the pictures sticky.
News came in, Tony didn’t make it.
The trip to the masturbating tent seemed less appealing now.
Kit check, clean rifle, count bullets, kit check, clean rifle, count bullets.
Letter from home, Mary and John are getting married, Mary.
I’ve to see that shrink, what do I say to him.
Tell him you want to unburden yourself, so we’ll call it quits on the money I owe you.
Fuck off, I’ll warm him up for you.
Half an hour later.
Fucking weirdo, said my brain was like an onion.
He did, did he, the dirty bastard, I was wondering where that magazine went.
You better go see him.
Come in, I’m Dr Massey, I’m going to have an informal chat with you, sort of get to know you, anything you want to ask me.
Your fly is open.
So sorry, right let's get started, you’ve been involved in a lot of the fighting recently, talk me through it.
Let me see, we’re heading out of camp, now I always check the lunch menu before we go, it’s fish, simple dish, not too long on the hot plate, splash of lemon, great. We’re at a stand-off, so I say to Pete, toss a grenade at them, guy's a genius with a grenade, can throw it for miles.
Though for some reason he’s mixed up the procedure, the grenade ends up killing the livestock, the enemy see this as an insult and go bonkers.
Then just as things couldn’t get any worse, I get back to camp to find the chefs burnt the fish, I mean, how the hell can you burn fish.
Right, this is interesting, go on.
Next day we’re heading out, steak’s on the menu, now I like my steak well done, so I was looking forward to lunch. Quiet morning, get back to camp, the idiot’s used a flamethrower on the steaks, swear to god he’s the real enemy.
Can I ask you, when you’re on home leave, do you get flashbacks, and if so, how do you deal with them.
I usually discuss everything with Sergeant Johnston.
Right, this is good, he’s been through this himself.
Oh yes, amazing man, do you know he survived the Somme only to be killed a year later in a mining accident.
Okay, wind back a bit, you talk to Sergeant Johnston who is actually dead, does he talk back to you.
Come on doc, he’s like the chefs best effort at cooking, dead.
Okay, that was quite interesting, what’s on the menu today.
Lasagne.
Is that good.
If you want to die, yes, better off reading a magazine.
Do you read a lot?
Yes I was reading this magazine on the workings of the human body, right up your street doc, but I seem to have misplaced it.
Well, I hope you find it.
So do I doc, it will be a definite relief.

  • Author: Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 11th, 2022 05:21
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 18
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Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    fun, purposed crassness
    that can't discourage us
    from finding the depth of insight
    you've imbued in-to this, poignant poetic treat..
    a gifted brief escape for adult's with an open minded, view
    of reality's
    magazine shards of absurd, shit
    we have to put up with...
    (reads like a modern day nod, to the great thomas gray
    and his 'Elegy written in a Country Churchyard')

    https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-11779

    • Paul Bell

      That was a great poem. The old and the new. Think the scholars might be going for the old, mind you.



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