Amongst guns for hire, it remains the ancient custom to preserve some token of the operative's military service - a memento of a professional and ideological pride that no moral ambiguity of mercenary work can dispute.
Taped to the cockpit canopy of a certain someone's third generation AP-8050, lies a crumpled insert torn out of a tired, worn out recruitment poster with a rip down the middle and a cuss inked on the side, brazenly smothering the small pane of enamelled glass between the pilot's field of view and the vessel's kill zone. A merry shield between here and eternity.
"Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these.
But of all the world's great heroes, there's none that can compare.
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, to the Bretonish Grenadiers.
Those heroes of antiquity ne'er saw a a'matter ball,
Or knew the force of atoms to slay their foes withal.
But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, for the Bretonish Grenadiers.
Whene'er we are commanded to storm the Gallic knaves,
Our leaders march with frigates, and we with plasma waves.
We fire them from our hussars, about the enemies' ears.
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, the Bretonish Grenadiers.
And when the siege is over, we to the bar repair.
The townsmen cry, "Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier!
Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears!
Then sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, the Bretonish Grenadiers.
Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health of those
Who carry caps and fighters, and wear the airtight clothes.
May they and their commanders live happy all their years.
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, for the Bretonish Grenadiers."
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)