Troop Aid

I am sending this as a mailing to friends.  Through my Masonic involvement I have been involved in some fund raising for Troop Aid, one of the first charities to respond to the needs of those troops injured who arrive at Selly Oak hospital, Birmingham: they now provide for a number of other reception hospitals.  Troop Aid who are a small body of relentless volunteers, provide what they call Buddy Bags which are the essentials (clothing, trainers, toiletries) for those who are returned injured to the UK - most of whom arrive wrapped in a blanket or in the combat kit they were injured in (torn and blood stained) - we are talking both sexes.  One wonders how those who sent them to war might feel if dumped in such an undignified way? (I will avoid a political statement)

 

I must emphasise this is a private mailing and not a Troop Aid circular however it has prompted me to ask that if you can help Troop Aid then please contact them <pamsutton@troopaid.info>
or go to their web site for more info.  I AM NOT A REPRESENTATIVE of Troop Aid just a Brit. who believes these kids deserve better - to me there is a message in the story below.

Kindest regards

 

Ken Reeves

Airline Lunches 

I put my carry-on in the luggage 
 compartment and sat down in my
assigned seat. 
 It was  going to be a long flight from Gatwick. 
'I'm glad I have a good book to read 
 Perhaps I will get a short sleep,' I thought. 


Just before take-off, a line of British Army Youngsters   
 came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, 
totally surrounding me.   
I decided to start a conversation. 

 'Where are you blokes headed?' I asked the
Young man seated nearest to me.

 Cyprus. We'll be there for two weeks 
 for special training, and then we're being deployed to Afghanistan.   
After flying for about an hour, 
an announcement was made that 
lunches were available for five pounds. 
It would be severa l
hours before we reached Cyprus, 
and I quickly decided a lunch would
 help pass the time. 

As I reached for my wallet, 
I overheard a soldier ask his mate if
 he planned to buy lunch. 
 'No, that seems like a lot of money for
 just an airline lunch. 
Probably  wouldn't be worth five Quid. 
I'll wait till we get to Cyprus.    
His mate agreed.

 I looked around at the other soldiers. 
 None were buying lunch.
 I walked to the back of the plane 
 and handed the flight attendant a
 fifty Pound note. 
'Take a lunch to all those soldiers..' 
She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. 
Her eyes wet with tears, 
she thanked me. 
'My young bloke was a soldier in Iraq, 
 it's almost like you are doing it for him. '

Picking up ten lunchboxes, 
 she headed up the aisle to where the boys were seated.   
She stopped at my seat and asked, 
'Which do you
 like best - beef or chicken?'

'Chicken,' I replied, wondering 
 why she asked. 

She turned and went to the front  of plane, returning a minute 
later with a dinner plate from first class.   
 'This is your thanks.' 

After we finished eating, 
I went again to the back of the plane, 
heading  for the rest room.   
 An old bloke stopped me.   
 'I saw what you did. 
I want to be part of it.   
 Here, take this.'   
He handed me twenty-five
Pounds. 
Soon after I returned to my  seat, 
 I saw the Captain coming 
down the aisle, looking  at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he wasn't looking  for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers 
only on my side of the plane. 
  When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, 
held out his hand, and said, 
 'I want to shake your hand.'

 Quickly unfastening my seat-belt I stood and took the Captain's hand. 
With a booming voice he said,  'I was an army pilot a long time back. 
Once someone bought me lunch. 
 It was an act of kindness I never forgot.'   
 I was embarrassed when applause 
 was heard from all of the passengers. 

Later I walked to the front of the plane 
so I could stretch my legs. 
A kid who looked about 18 was sitting about 
 six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine.   
 He left another twenty-five Pounds
. In my palm.

 When we landed I gathered my  belongings and started to depart.
 Waiting just inside the aeroplane door was a man who stopped me, put
something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. 
Another twenty-five Pounds!

 Upon entering the terminal, 
I saw the soldiers gathering for their 
trip  up to their training area.   
 I walked over to them and handed 
 them seventy-five Pounds. 
'It will take you some time to 
reach your training area. It will be 
about time for a sandwich.   
God Bless You Blokes.' Ten young blokes left that flight feeling 
the love and respect of their fellow Brits. 
  As I walked briskly to my car, 
I whispered a prayer for their  safe return.  These soldiers were 
giving their all for our country. 
 I could only give them a couple of meals. 
It seemed so little...

A British Serviceman is someone who, 
at one point in his life, wrote a blank
cheque made payable to 
'United Kingdom' 
for an amount of
' up to and including my life.'

 That is Honour, and there are way 
too many foreigners in this country 
who don't understand it.'  

May you have the strength and 
 courage to pass this along to 
everyone on your email mates list....

I JUST DID!   


Contact
Pam Sutton
Secretary  Troop Aid
PO Box 14482
Solihull
West Midlands
0121 711 7215


Apologies . This was originally a poem