At Camp Ipperwash

When I was 18 and virgin

I worked in an Army kitchen,

part of an army of civvy support

that underpinned Camp Ipperwash.

We had a walk-in cold room for food,

and I had gone in for something,

when after me came two mature women, 

19 and 27, laughing, convinced I needed wrestling.

I battled back mightily, 

mighty mightily,

not to be overpowered by females,

and in a pyrrhic way, won,

But something about that form of flesh

gave them the victory, over All.