Peter Poem by Gert Strydom

At times Peter came to visit
before it was properly light
and we wandered off to go fishing
under the full moon,
at school he threw a brick
into a nearby bees nest
and during lunch break
the whole swarm stung me
and I ended up in hospital
but still as friends
for a time we were inseparable.

Peter had his own radio
on which he listened to a radio program called "squad cars"
and the police where heroes to us.
I do remember how the people
living in a rondavel and white bus fascinated me.
I was interested in Peter's brother Johnny's black motorbike
which made a dust cloud on the dirt track
and their old red DKW, which did run on petrol and oil,
with which I sometimes traveled along to Heidelberg
when his father did buy the Sunday Times
and a lucky packet for each of us.

We moved away to Natal
and after school I met Peter again
at a church camp meeting gathering
when he was a member
of the Special Forces Recce battalion
but that was the very last
that I had contact with him.

[Reference: Recce = Reconnaissance Commandos.]