My friends and my father
Were determined to make my departure
Remembered
And neither was I
Reluctant to help them.

I think I caught the train
Somewhere along
My second bottle of vodka.
But I am not too sure
For my last civilian night
Is lost in the fumes.

I found a comrade
Army-bound
Who shared my condition
And his bottle of brandy
Before we both passed out.

I awoke the next day
With the train's jolting motion banging against my hangover
And hoping
Those I had left in Gatooma
Felt as bad as I did today.