We were living a life of plenty
We were near adult all of twenty
When a letter came in the mail
Make fathers curse mothers pale
Called to serve Queen and country
Defend those who fight for free
Not here for the free rides
Everyone short back and sides
Learn to march, learn to kill
How to lose your own free will
Sergeants yell, corporals shout
PT instructors shake it about
Gear looked new but it was old
Left from World War Two we’re told
On the parade ground flat and hot
Told we are a bloody shabby lot
Some can march left and right
Others told to get out of sight
Which is a rifle, which is a gun,
One for shooting, one for fun.
Out in the bush, on a long march
Army life seems terribly harsh
Home on leave, crowd stand-out
Everyone else a long-haired lout
Discovered the evils of Sydney Cross
Keep moving to gather no moss
Some got lucky choosing a corps
Others would not get to see a war
More training to become a Digger
Knowing when to pull the trigger
Others play supporting roles
Not for them never-ending patrols
Contact left and contact right
Ambush training day and night
Paint your face and camouflage
Hard to hide when you’re so large
Playing games seemed surreal
One day would be real deal
Some by sea on ‘Vung Tau Ferry’
Others by air, so not to tarry
Lucky ones in Saigon, Vung Tau
Most in the bush, here and now
Many days stealthily on patrol
Nights in ambush a shallow hole
Thud of guns and bombs
Close then so far away.
Winning hearts and minds
Often losing souls to mines
Battles small and large
Contacts won and lost.
Relived in the boozer
Different versions told
In letters to beloved.
On R and R innocence
Could have been lost
Except it had flown away
In a war of attrition
Still at contrition
Padre’s penance chimed
Through the crazy mind.
Sleeps to go got smaller
Till zero day came at last
And his future to always
Be haunted by the past.
Searching for normality
Around familiar streets
But no one understood
Where they had been
Or what they’d done
The unmentionable
Became forgettable
To many but the lost
Found wanting
In their own country.
At last they came home
But part of them remained
In a new land ordained
Where lives were salvaged
Among those so savaged
All who were part rebuilding
Soft bells will always ring.