1 JANUARY 1994, Page 27

We are the temporary men, Tasked to hold on here

a time A waiting time, a stretching time, Before we take off boots and climb Wearily to bed.

Meshed in rules, encased in armour, We shall try, we may indeed contain The situation, gain a space to breathe, For men of greater principle and ease Men in suits who meet and eat And talk of talks to seek, they say, M end.

We are the blunted tools, you see, Not brought out to set you free But for respectability And so that those at home may sit Secure to know they've done their bit We are not here pursuing victory.

But we shall hold this thing a time, A meantime peacetime army, And work, and watch, and sometimes kill And sometimes die, but then again We were the temporary men.

Anon