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Day 21. How did it get to be this far in? Today we are going with a musical link. The song 99 Red Balloons will always be linked to my time at Swinderby, doing basic training for the RAF. The prompt for this post came from Carrie Etter, poet and teacher thanks Carrie.

I’ve been out for a stroll around Cheddar this morning with a new camera, so I’ll post about that later. Take Care everyone.

99 Red Balloons

Nena hurled her song about the room,
we were all ironing kit, packing, checking
each other for creases and dust,

brasses polished, boots bulled to mirrors,
our last morning at RAF Swinderby, 
pass out day, families were arriving
and we were getting ready to leave.

She was the dark German girl,
leather trousers, with a heavy accent
and her song was 99 Red Balloons,
not lost on us was the anti-war, 
anti cold-war, anti nuclear message.

It didn't matter, we dialled it anyway,
each night in the NAAFI, and soon,
we would head off to all parts of the RAF,
the military.  Her and her song, never came back.
She was a one hit wonder, but the song is fixed
to the day we all wore best blues for family. 

For the passing out parade,  all pride and pleasure,
and then headed out and into the world. 
That song on that last morning, 
when we scuffed the floor for the next intake, 
piled up our kit-bags and closed the door on basic training.

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