Testo Apocalypta

The command came 'hold your fire'
And if I ever meet that man I'll ask him why
We were put on standby while the scenario got dire.
Peace keeper with no teeth, can enforce no peace,
Just becomes an eye-witness to grief
Number of times I wish to leave.
Couldn't believe that we were here,
For nothing more then the lip service, Nothing more then the empires service, Trigger finger, oh so nervous.
Number of times I almost let the bullets go,
The footage shows, that they approached the check point
With hands raised in civilian clothes.
Vince did shoot and he went home
Awaiting an inquest, who's to know,
If the punishment could be worse
Than his own thoughts when he's all alone.
And I wish he could of been here,
When we really needed a shooter.
We stood by and watched as the town we protected, Was pillages raped and looted.
We were ham-strung,
The commands come from HQ,
And blood on the hands was the last thing the they wanted to report,
The politicians that they answered to. So what am I supposed to do?
Why am I here? Dying of fear
That the faces staring up at me will continue to appear.
In the dreams that wake me up in fits of sweats, And all the counsellor has said
Won't let me forget about Szrebrenica yet.

overnight trucks in convoy
big red cross on the side and the back
escorted by two junior officers
on the off chance they'd be attacked
on a private contract
roads a gauntlet
trouble none yet reported
guards will get a little commission
when we bribe the soldiers when we reach the border
now he's got medical supplies for a refugee camp
humanitarian mission
held up a week at customs
took over a month to ship from Switzerland
he knows nobody will listen
even as the burials start increasing
so he keeps the frustration under wraps
he's seen that it's self-defeating
and though he joined up to make a difference
good intentions can turn out vicious
as they helplessly provide aid
to camps of disbanded militias
they've got cachets of illegal arms
hidden away in the countryside
former colonial rulers ensure
they get yet more clandestine supplies
he's seen aid workers broken down
to a shell of their former selves
'til they're not so afraid of death 'cos
they've already seen hell
and the danger pay is good
but every cent that he gets is earn't
and he's alive but burning out
driving through scorched earth
and all in all it's worth it isn't it
even just for the little victories?
standing by as a witness
to the dark rumblings of history

We left home as heroes,
with photo ops and press releases,
and handshake from the minister,
and a speech on freedom,
shining beacons of democracy.
The monitors of first free and fair elections,
midwives to assist the birth of a distant fledgling nation.
As we taxied out at Williamstown,
you could smell the nerves in the Hercules,
excitement and uncertainty,
prestigious posting overseas.
We deployed through the provinces,
our project voter education,
to dispel fears of retribution,
with two local staff and a Thai policeman.
The campaign worked and ten months later
the ballot was held and turn out greater than expected,
the result unknown,
then the call came through on the satellite phone:
"Projectiles thrown in some locations,
mobs attacking polling stations",
HQ called evacuation and ordered our withdrawal.
We sheltered in the compound
while militias torched the town,
the glow of burning buildings as night fell
had tensions running high.
The flow of refugees braved razor wire
for the protection of our presence.
Automatic gun fire rang out,
premeditated menace.
And calls for back up to Canberra are met with silence and indecision.
"Domestic intervention's outside the mandate of this mission".
And at dawn the order came,
for all "essential personnel",
at 0900 the choppers would come to fly us out of hell.
Now how can I meet the eye,
of this man that I've worked beside,
and tell him that I'm free to leave today whilst he is sure to die.
I wanna hide, don't understand how these people can be abandoned,
and I wonder, if the minister will be there to meet us when we land.