#militarylife
***
My Friends - Step by Step
We march together, my friends,
Side by side, hand in hand.
Through the trials and the storms,
Together we stand.
We lift each other up,
No one walks alone.
In the dark, in the fight,
Our strength is our own.
We march together, my friends,
With courage and pride.
No fear can break us—
We’ve got each side.
So, lets carry on,
Step by step, hand in hand.
Stronger together—
Together we stand.
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 7:44 AM UTC
***
I don’t wear the uniform.
No stripes on my arm, no rank to my name.
But don’t mistake it—
I’m in this life all the same.
I hold things together back home
while he stands his ground out there.
Keep the place steady,
keep the family close,
keep the fire lit—always there.
I ride out the worry,
the distance,
the quiet fear that creeps in at night.
I’m the one behind the soldier,
the one who keeps him right.
No medals for this.
No spotlight, no parade.
But this role I carry—
it matters. It’s not just played.
Because every fight he faces,
I feel it in my own way.
I’m the Army wife—
not always seen,
but I’m there. Every day.
Proud of him.
Proud of us.
Standing beside my soldier,
steady and strong—no fuss.
So no, I don’t wear the uniform,
and I don’t give the commands—
But I stand my ground just the same.
And I know exactly where I stand.
I’m the backbone,
the quiet strength,
the part you don’t always see.
An unsung voice in the ranks—
but it’s still service,
and it’s still me.
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 7:38 AM UTC
“I joined for adventure…
turns out it’s mostly waiting around in uncomfortable places.”
That’s the truth of it—
not the posters,
not the stories told down the pub,
not the bright edge of glory
we thought we were stepping into.
I remember the waiting most.
Not the marches,
not the noise,
not even the ache—
but the waiting.
Sitting on cold ground,
back against a pack,
boots damp,
hands numb,
eyes scanning nothing in particular
while time stretched
longer than the horizon.
We thought adventure would be constant—
movement, purpose, direction.
But more often,
it was silence between orders,
a pause no one explained.
“Stand by.”
“Wait out.”
“Not yet.”
And so, we did.
We waited in fields,
on ranges,
on foreign soil where the air felt sharper—
snow beneath us on mountain exercises,
skis biting into slopes we’d never imagined
back when we first signed on.
Those were the moments we remembered—
the peaks, the movement, the stories.
But they were only pieces.
Because in between them
was the stillness.
The uncertainty.
The quiet question
none of us quite voiced—
what are we actually here for?
We followed orders without the full picture,
played our part without seeing the whole.
Just lads doing as we were told,
trusting there was something bigger
beyond what we could see.
And there was.
It just took years to understand.
Years to see how the waiting mattered—
how patience was part of the training,
how discipline wasn’t just in action,
but in holding steady
when nothing seemed to happen.
Now, looking back,
the discomfort fades,
the waiting softens—
and what’s left
is something clearer.
We were being shaped
not just for the moments of action,
but for everything in between.
“I joined for adventure…”
And I got it—
just not in the way I expected.
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 4:26 AM UTC
***
Barbed Wire Sunset
By Paul Baldry
Brick dust in the air,
A setting sun, bloodied sky,
Boys behind the wire.
Hope hangs, a tattered flag, torn
By a wind of weary grief.
Petrol Rain
By Paul Baldry
Cobblestones slicked black,
A sudden downpour of rage,
Molotov's fiery kiss.
Faces masked, fear is a shroud,
Whispers lost in siren's wail.
Mothers' Vigil
By Paul Baldry
Empty chairs at home,
While daughters search shadowed streets,
Seeking missing sons.
A rosary, clutched tight, beads
Telling tales of silent loss.
On Patrol
By Paul Baldry
Green hills watch us pass,
Boots heavy on cobbled street,
Eyes scan every face.
A child's glare, a whispered word,
Peace feels a world away now.
Soldier's Silence
By Paul Baldry
Young man, far from home,
Gun held tight, heart full of fear,
Orders must be kept.
A scream echoes in the night,
Silence becomes a burden.
Aftermath
By Paul Baldry
Walls still bear the scars,
Of anger etched deep in stone,
Flags flutter defiant.
The guns are quiet, they say,
But memory still echoes.
Bandit Country
By Paul Baldry
Green hills watch us pass,
Crossmaglen's heart, a silent
Glower in the fog.
Boots heavy on the cold stone,
Whispers follow in the air.
Armoured Patrol
By Paul Baldry
Saracen's rumble,
Cutting through the silent streets,
Eyes search every door.
A child stares, face filled with fear,
Lost innocence in the grey.
Border Patrol
By Paul Baldry
Borderland is tense,
A rifle held, a strained gaze,
Waiting for the blast.
Another day the same fear,
Will peace ever come to stay?
Checkpoint Dusk
By Paul Baldry
Grey stone, shadowed walls,
A checkpoint's cold, watchful eye,
Halts a weary road.
Whispers of the past linger,
Fear hangs heavy in the air.
Border Vigil
By Paul Baldry
Green hills, sliced by line,
A patrol's slow, measured tread,
Each step tense and brief.
The land, a battleground deep,
Peace a fragile, distant hope.
Eyes on the Corner
By Paul Baldry
Stone cottages still,
Eyes watch from behind the lace,
Every move we take.
Suspicion is bred in the soil,
Crossmaglen waits, hushed and dark.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 5:49 AM UTC
look at the time, 8 hours back my family and friends are asleep. Look at the peaceful eyes they keep. 8 hours forward from them, lays a man not knowing what to do with his head, scared that someone might pump him with lead.
Look at the time, 6 hours forward, there she is with a smile to take on the world. 6 hours back from her, there's a man waiting to give her his heart whole.
Sometimes he feels alone, sometimes he needs someone there. Sometimes hearing someone's voice is all he needs, sometimes love is all that he needs
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC