Army Recruit
Posted: 13 Jan 2015, 14:02
First letter back home from a new recruit to the Australian Army (best read in a pseudo Aussie accent)
Dear Mum and Dad,
I am well, hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the army is better than workin on the farm - tell them to get in quick before all the good jobs are gone!
I was slow settlin in at first, coz you don't have to get outa bed until six oclock, but I like having a lie in now coz all you gotta do before brekky is make your bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform, no bloody cows to milk, no feed to stack, no calves to feed - nuthin!
Blokes has gotta shave though, but its not so bad coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light and mirror to see what yous doing! At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no possum stew like Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we been on a "route march", geez it's not even as far as walking to the windmill in the top paddock and back!
This one will kill me brothers, I keeps getting medals for shootin' dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't keep moving about and it don't shoot back like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All you gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target, piece of piss. You don't even have to load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the Roo shooting truck when ya reload. Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys, I have to be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve all at once like we do at home.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either, I'm the best in the platoon. Only got beat once and that was by a bloke from the engineers who is six feet five, fifteen stone and three pick axe handles across the shoulders, well you know me, I'm only 5 feet seven and eight stone wringin wet, but I fought him until the rest of the blokes carted me off to the boozer.
I really can't complain about the army, tell the boys to get in quick before word gets out how bloody good it is.
Your lovin' daughter
Sheila
Dear Mum and Dad,
I am well, hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the army is better than workin on the farm - tell them to get in quick before all the good jobs are gone!
I was slow settlin in at first, coz you don't have to get outa bed until six oclock, but I like having a lie in now coz all you gotta do before brekky is make your bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform, no bloody cows to milk, no feed to stack, no calves to feed - nuthin!
Blokes has gotta shave though, but its not so bad coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light and mirror to see what yous doing! At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no possum stew like Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we been on a "route march", geez it's not even as far as walking to the windmill in the top paddock and back!
This one will kill me brothers, I keeps getting medals for shootin' dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't keep moving about and it don't shoot back like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All you gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target, piece of piss. You don't even have to load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the Roo shooting truck when ya reload. Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys, I have to be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve all at once like we do at home.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either, I'm the best in the platoon. Only got beat once and that was by a bloke from the engineers who is six feet five, fifteen stone and three pick axe handles across the shoulders, well you know me, I'm only 5 feet seven and eight stone wringin wet, but I fought him until the rest of the blokes carted me off to the boozer.
I really can't complain about the army, tell the boys to get in quick before word gets out how bloody good it is.
Your lovin' daughter
Sheila
