Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

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Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

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The next time I was to encounter religion was when I joined the army. Yes. When I was 16 I went into the British army as a bandsman. Thinking about it now, it seems like a really dumb thing to have done, but when I was coming up to leaving school, it sounded like my best option. But that’s another story.

My story here is about religion, and so I’ll try to stay on that. My dad had told me when I was joining, to say I was Church of England, C of E, because if you said you were nothing they’d give you something else to do instead of church service. Which was completely true, and no advantage in doing!

In the army the religious ones are different from the others. Not better. No, not at all. But different. Varying from those who had airs and graces of superiority to several who were psychopathic!  When I was at juniors, the first two years of musical training, we had to go to church service every now and again (perhaps once a month). It was something I loathed doing, firstly due to my upbringing, and then for the situation I was in. It meant absolutely less than nothing. And was my first experience of trying to sing along to hymns I didn’t know! Very much like a sketch with Mr Bean; ‘Hallelujah! Hallelujah!…’

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