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James Cookson McIntosh

National Rifle Champs Trentham 1950

  Now Trentham Range is mighty tough
For a new chum shot to shoot
He needs a fair amount of luck
To get his share of the loot

The wind blows sixteen ways at once
At least this much I'll say
I've seen those sixteen bloody flags
All point a different way

The mirage? gets you for a start
It dances there all day
But what the blinking hell's the odds
I'll miss the darn thing anyway

The ammo's crook of course we know
There's no two shots the same
And every rifleman that's there
Will say that's part to blame

The barrels nowadays are poor
The light here's crook as well
The markers as blind as buggery
And I wish those flies would go to hell

You'll try like hell the first two days
And then at least I fear
You'll do the same as all of us
And hit the ruddy beer

At shooting bulls we're not so hot
At drinking beer we're tops
Let's stack our rifles on the shelves
And taste those flamin' hops.


J.C.M.
Copyright A Rodger Dickson © 2008 - 2011