The Army Foot Patrol (A Memory)

Brendan Curran ✒ with a poem from his expansive body of work.

An army foot patrol

is walking down the street

Special rubber on their boots

so you cannot hear their feet

♞♜♝

They are away off in the distance

but I see them stop and weave

As the hair stands on the back of my neck

and start to heavy breath

♞♜♝

The night silence gets broken

with a noise that can only be one thing

The high pitched searing engine noise

of the army Saracen

♞♜♝

It slowly drives towards you

no lights to Avoid being seen

The steel back doors wide open

painted camouflage olive green

♞♜♝

They stop and question everyone

that is what they do

If you show any resistance at all . .

it’s an excuse to arrest you

♞♜♝

The put you in the back

and they take you to police station

Then take from the pig *

and start your interrogation

♞♜♝

This can go disastrously

depends on how it plays

You can turn around immediately

and go the other way

♞♜♝

But the minute they see you turning

then you’ve got something to hide

They will abandon what they are doing,

and soon be at your side

♞♜♝

You have to keep on walking,

keeping a steady pace

Trying to avoid glances

….in case one of them knows your face

♞♜♝

Then one of them spots you,

and asks you what’s your name

He already knows who you are…

part of the harassment game

♞♜♝

He asks you for you date of birth,

he knows you wont comply

He makes you wait for ever and ever,

as everyone else passes you by

♞♜♝

He asks you where you are coming from,

and where you are going to?

But it’s really just a stalling tactic

to see if the police want to arrest you

♞♜♝

The radio operator calls you name

out across the air waves

Response a short time later …

”Charlie one” is all it says

♞♜♝

The atmosphere changes intensely,

all friendliness disappears

Charlie one means you're

a suspected member of the IRA

♞♜♝

Take everything out of your pockets…

spread your arms and your legs

Some times they put you up against a building

with your hands above your head

♞♜♝

The search takes for ever,

different soldiers are brought over and shown your face

For future intelligence sightings…

so you get watched every place

♞♜♝

They can’t find anything on you,

disappointment on their face

But continue to keep you at the roadside

invading your personal space

♞♜♝

The radio crackles once more,

breaking the night silence and it’s cutting breeze

The radio operator gives the thumbs up…

they have to set you free

* Pig - large heavenly armoured troop carrier

⏩ Brendan Curran, Irish conflict poems

2020