“I went into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play…”
“…Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an` Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul? “
But it’s ” Thin red line of ‘eroes ” when the drums begin to roll
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s ” Thin red line of ‘eroes, ” when the drums begin to roll….”
Rudyard Kipling “Tommy” 
Michael died last week in his late 50’s, after many years of struggling with alcohol dependency. Half a lifetime of drinking, hostels, rough sleeping and prison left him a shadow of his former self. The trouble is no one really cared to know too much about who he was…after all he was just a drinker…a stereotype.
But before then…he was an infantry man. A 21st Century Tommy Atkins….
I’m not sure sometimes how much things have changed…