"Unload!.... safety catch, pouch, magazine off..

(From the range we smell the scoff)

"Clear, ease springs"

The Sergeant sings

Time to queue up at the trough

 

There's nothing quite like the old 'Range Stew'

Two rounds of bread with a nice hot brew

From the mess tin

I'm not jestin'

Made by chefs who have no clue

 

Soft boot shuffle with your mate

No place here for a china plate

Where Army Cooks

Serve muck from trucks

Nothing left if you're there late

 

In fairness it is wholesome food

Though very basic and quite crude

If it's not that good

Give it to your bud­­­

Not to do so would be rude

 

Our armed alfresco dining bash

A multi coloured corned beef hash

Maybe super rat

With curried cat

And boiled potatoes turned to mash

 

I remember some bloke once said summat

Like an army marches on its stomach

I bet he never ate this

As he took the piss

Just mush with a boiled potato hummock

 

The Army marches, fights and shoots

In self purchased decent Lundhag boots

Wearing gillets

They buy from Millets

Thanks to Defence Procurement faceless suits

 

Although 'Range Stew' is not that brilliant

Squaddies can be quite resilient

Decent food

Can change the mood

It tends to make us all ebullient

 

Anyway..... we're all standing in the queue

As the cook dished up "One lump or two"

"Is there a choice"?

Said a lonely voice

Well I Nearly spat my brew!

 

A ladle pointed to the sky

And in a loud gruff voice I heard the cry

"I don't believe it

 Take or leave it"!

Was his sharp shit hot reply

 

To see him really have a fit

Just add some "spices" from your kit

See there's no fiasco

When you use Tabasco

And it then doesn't taste like....... grit

 

There's nothing quite like the old 'Range Stew'

Two rounds of bread with a nice hot brew

From the mess tin

I'm not jestin'

What's in it? Never had a clue!

 

(c) Daniel Dwyran