Stratford, LONDON: In the tunnel at Stratford Railway Station, entrance gate for the London 2012 Olympics venue, there is a busker singing just like Ralph McTell, the old tune the 'Streets Of London'. Let us listen to those words;
Have you seen the military men
In the closed-down market on Green Street
Kicking up the paper,
with his worn out Army boots?
In his eyes you see no pride for Britain any more.
And held loosely at his side
Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news.
3,500 servicemen from the British Armed Forces, most Afghan heroes, drafted in to make up for the G4S shambles to guard the Olympic venues, will be sleeping in commandeered derelict buildings, disused schools and hospitals, plus warehouses.
Many troops just back from Afghanistan, will have their leave cancelled, in order to bolster security during the London 2012 Olympics. Soldiers not being able to attend their own wedding. Guys losing flights they have paid for, holidays they have booked.
Many Forces personnel, from the Army, Royal Air Force and Royal Navy have will be flown in from Germany.
So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine?
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind
Cleaners at the Olympic Park are being housed ten to a room at a huge temporary compound, where they sleep in portable cabins, some of which have been leaking in the rain. The campsite in East London, hidden from public view, has 25 people sharing each toilet and 75 to each shower. The bad weather has left the site flooded with stagnant water, forcing the cleaners to use abandoned crates as makeshift 'stepping stones'. 'It is like a slum inside,' says one worker from Hungary.
Hundreds of people have come from abroad to work at the 2012 Olympics despite promises that the jobs would go to Londoners. On arrival in London, some were told there would be no work for two weeks, but despite this, they were made to pay the cleaning company £18 a day (£550 a month) to sleep in overcrowded metal cabins.
Have you seen the old girl
Who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.
In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old man is sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home alone
And have you seen the old man
Outside the seaman's mission
Memory fading with
The medal ribbons that he wears.
In our winter city,
The rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero
And a world that doesn't care