Going to church
I was called up to a military camp
and we were in tents in Parrow
and I was seconded to a special unit
on our way to De Brug
from where we would go to Luhatla
and from there to war in Angola
and although we were guarded
by marines
some guys at night sneaked
through the patrols
and I could have accompanied them
if I wished,
but they visited paid girls.
Time after time I had requested
to be transferred to a unit in Pretoria
where I lived,
but my letters came back
stamped request denied.
I asked to go to church
instead of attending prayer parade,
and my request was granted
and I got pass for the day
on condition to get a lift
and I called a doctor
friend of mine.
He fetched me with his Alfa Guiletta
and we went to Tygerberg church
where I was a member when we
were still married.
One of the girls
was very friendly
and was blonde, quite lovely
with a awesome smile
and a short black mini skirt
and she came to sit
right next to me
and I still remember
her long legs.
That day almost came
to a halt for me
when you walked in
with your husband
to have your
newborn son blessed in
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poem by Gert Strydom
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