We came as boys at fifteen years,
With kit bags packed and heads held high,
Too young to know the road ahead,
Too proud to ever question why.

At JLRRA our journey started,
A military boarding school in all but name,
Where strangers met as nervous youngsters
And learned together how to change.

We slept together, ate together,
Shared the laughter, shared the strain,
Cleaned our boots and squared our blankets,
Then marched outside into the rain.

We learned the drill, the rifle’s weight,
The map, the compass, field and track,
The endless runs, the loaded marches,
And how to carry others back.

We crawled through mud, we crossed rough ground,
We trained through cold and driving rain,
Through summer heat and winter mornings,
Then did it all once more again.

Rain, hail, snow and sunshine,
Whatever weather filled the sky,
There was always one more hill to climb,
One more reason not to cry.

Unbridled spirits rising high,
We laughed whenever laughter came,
Still boys beneath the uniform,
Yet slowly changing all the same.

We learned to trust the man beside us,
To share the burden, share the load,
To watch each other when exhausted
And keep together on the road.

Uniting hearts beneath the sky,
We became brothers through it all,
Through barrack rooms and training grounds,
Through every stumble, rise and fall.

Then boyhood faded into manhood,
And harder tests were waiting there;
We earned the right to be Commando Gunners,
The green beret at last to wear.

At eighteen years we faced a world
Far different from those training days,
And lessons learned when we were boys
Would guide us through more dangerous ways.

For eight long years we served together,
Four tours throughout the Troubles came,
Where youthful dreams met harsh reality
And soldiering became no game.

We walked the streets through tense young faces,
Patrolled the roads and country lanes,
Through summer dust and winter darkness,
Through endless nights and constant rains.

We learned how silence could be warning,
How every shadow drew the eye,
How daylight sometimes felt uncertain,
And darkness stretched across the sky.

We stood the line when nerves were tested,
When fear sat quietly close at hand,
Yet carried on because beside us
Were men we knew would always stand.

Uncovering paths of shared embrace,
We found what comradeship could mean—
A quiet word when someone struggled,
A joke when things became too grim.

We knew each other’s moods and silences,
The glance that said, “I’ve got your back,”
The humour used to break the tension,
The steady footstep on the track.

Some memories bring back the laughter,
Some bring a silence deep inside,
Some bring the faces of old comrades,
And memories we cannot hide.

Understanding beyond time and space,
Is something only age can show:
The boys we were have never left us,
No matter how the years may flow.

We joined as boys at fifteen years,
And somehow grew to soldier-men,
But somewhere deep within our hearts
Those young lads still march again.

Through rain and hail, through snow and sunshine,
Through drill, through maps, through march and gun,
We learned that standing side by side
Could turn the many into one.

And now when memory brings them back,
Those faces from another sky,
I know that age does not forbid it—
We are never too old to cry.

For tears can speak of pride and sorrow,
Of absent friends and days gone by,
Of boys who grew and stood together,
Then carried on beneath the sky.

We came as boys with restless spirits,
And left those years forever tied—
Young Commando Gunners, shaped by service,
The boys who learned to stand the line.

By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)

Note:
This poem has taken me nearly two years to finally complete. I am also working on a book about my life, because I believe we all have a story to tell. It does not have to be a thriller, an adventure, or something extraordinary — it simply has to be our story.

For many reasons, I want to leave mine behind for my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and whoever comes after them, so that they may know something of the life I lived, the people I knew, and the experiences that helped shape the man I became.

#TheBoysWhoStoodTheLine, #JLRRA, #CommandoGunners, #MilitaryPoetry, #OldComrades, #Brotherhood,