We Were On Patrol In The Desert Poem by Gert Strydom

We were on patrol in the desert,
drove through a part of the Namib
with a brown armoured car
at a place where there were firm ground

and camped for the night,
seeing the trip as a type of joy ride
and during the day the sun was utterly hot
but the night was black and icy cold

and we counted bright stars
that looked shot-gunned into the sky
and the Bushmen trackers
sat round a fire where they prepared tea

reminding me of the British army
but we were continents away
in another country, fighting a enemy
that did not bother them.