To The Crew Of A Shot Out Ratel Armoured Car Of 61 Mechanised Bn Grp Poem by Gert Strydom

What chance for escape is left where you are caught
by enemy landmine upon landmine,
from the incoming projectile's crying whine
when boys, some only eighteen years old are shattered
in the flash when a armoured car becomes scrap,
even when your bravery shines bright,
what chance for escape is left?

How little remains after that thundering thud
from what can be seen as a life
when through the law service was forced down
upon young men, whose lives were caught up by death,
what chance for escape is left?