`What should we do with the drunken soldier?`

I wrote this poem `What should we do with the drunken soldier?` in protest at the treatment of this British Falklands War veteran by the police, also for anyone else that has been a victim of police brutallity.



Thank you soldier for your duty in Iraq
But unfortunately you still need to wait at the back
Our Doctors are busy
Our Nurses are stressed
We will get around to seeing you
Were Doing our best

The soldiers chair is empty
Hes gone to his meds
A bottle of cheap whisky
Will sort our his head

Sat on a park bench he screams at the moon
He smashed the bottle then whistles a tune
His Regimental March
He needs another drink
He pulls up his collar
Smelling his own stink

Along comes two policeman
They tell him to move
He asks why he should?
They say their not in the mood
They drag him from the bench
Then put in the boot

Hes back in Iraq being attacked by a mob
They kick and they punch and they bite and they stab
The cops take him to hospital
He screams, "Ive been in Iraq"
They tell him to keep his mouth shut
And sit at the back.



© Mack (RG)"Every day feels like the day of a funeral"



Christopher Alder, 37, a former paratrooper and Falklands War veteran, died on the floor of the custody suite at Hull's Queens Gardens police headquarters in April, 1998 after being arrested. He choked to death on blood and vomit resulting from injuries he had sustained in the earlier fracas while officers ignored him and carried on chatting.