Depending on the version, where old soldiers on the march down the Road to Hell swing off to throw their bedrolls down for eternity. It never rains but the grass is always green, the fire never goes out, the haversacks never come empty. The days are warm, the nights are cool, the stories and the plonk go on forever, and all the old warhorses are there, too.
There's a merchant seaman's version, too.
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