The Happy Warrior (39 page)

You laugh at all the mugs out here, who fight to keep you safe.

I wasn't there to watch my dame, I thought her worth fighting for.

Oh! what's the use, you get the cream, while I am at the war!

Wish her luck! She'll need it, when she counts the whys and buts,

She will find her idol lacking, not in charm — but guts.

Anon

Growin' Old

They say you're growin' old when your memory starts to slip,

And your knees go kinda wonky when up the hill you trip,

You like to reminisce on things that used to be around,

Long before the dollar took over from the pound.

If you mention ‘knobs of blue', scrubbin' boards and clothes props up the yard,

And tell of all the virtues of Jolson, Valentino and things written by the Bard,

They shake their heads and wonder about the affect of all your years;

‘Tis hard to make young folk comprehend when memories turn to tears.

You dined on rabbit stew 'n vegies when the hunters drifted in,

And you boiled the tea leaves o'er and o'er and re-rolled bumpers

before they hit the bin,

You remember bread and dripping, darning needles and patches in your pants,

And how you swelled with pride when allowed to dress up for the local dance.

You mended shoes with cardboard and dined on speckled fruit,

The mattress was filled with horsehair and bedding was of calico

topped by the finest jute,

You went to the ‘flicks' on Saturday arvo' to see the features, a cartoon and the rest,

The price, for kids, was a zack (sixpence) and the heroes — they were the very best.

I guess growin' old compares with the modern motor car,

It travels miles and miles and then begins to show that it's not up to par,

Bits wear out and the upholstery starts to sag, so you apply a little polish,

But it, like you, is growin' old, yet the journeys that you shared are ones that

you now cherish.

If growin' old means memories, then I've got quite a few,

Of epsom salts, castor oil and camphor to ward off bouts of flu,

And home-made toys, gramophones and the local township band,

An' waiting on the milko, and his horse, with billy can in hand.

We drove our horse and sulky to church 'n Sunday school for which we dressed up fine,

For Sundays were often picnic days and for them we did pine,

Our games were often rough with skinned knees and elbows quite normal,

An' those days were days of wonder, a sheer delight for most were quite informal.

The media say we're elderly when we reach fifty-five,

But that's a lot of nonsense, I'm long past that and very much alive.

And yet I guess we begin to age the moment we are born —

It's not the years that make us old 'tis becoming all forlorn.

So if you, like me, have accumulated quite some years,

Cling tight to the memories of ‘the good old days' e'en tho' it may mean tears,

And if growin' old brings aches and pains that make you want to grumble,

Give thanks for the grace of God who gave you time — 'tis then you'll feel

quite humble.

Bill Phillips

1998

The Flag

As the century turned our colonial states drew up a constitution,

And we became a federation of States, a Nation, a veritable institution,

We held a competition, to design ourselves a Flag for all to rally to,

The glorious Southern Cross was there and a star to represent the States,

plus the old Red, White and Blue.

This flag that we adopted, Union Jack and all, made us feel united,

It gave us national identity and in it we delighted,

It revealed that we were ‘The Great South Land', as ‘The Cross' so proudly showed,

And ‘The Jack' told where we came from, its heritage on us bestowed.

We owe much to mother England for it gave to us our birth,

The early Pommy settlers, they opened up the land 'n' made us realise our worth;

Some were convicts, criminals of note, but their contribution gave us a mighty start;

The soldiers and free settlers also gave us something toward our great big heart.

There were many early troubles, with cruelty directed to natives and the convicted,

It was quite normal, 'twas the way of life, but our growth was not restricted,

Further colonies were developed and they just grew and grew, yet we were not one nation,

So founding fathers gathered to give to us a future and international station.

The British flag of Union revealed that we belonged to an ever growing Empire,

So that great badge of honour featured high upon our flag, what more could we aspire?

Our Mother Country was defender of the freedoms that captive nations seek,

And called upon its fledglings to stand and fight ‘ere they could hardly speak'.

Tested in China, and against the Boers, the New Australians showed courage never seen before,

And when the Kaiser threatened, to the Union Flag they rallied, with patriotism galore.

At Gallipoli they truly showed their mettle as, united under ‘Jack' and ‘Cross',

They gave our Nation pride, plus an ever conquering spirit, and showed them who was boss.

When on to France the Anzacs marched, the First World War soon was over,

And not a man who served dishonoured the Federation Flag, if history you discover;

They were proud to be Australian and to be acknowledged as the best,

They saw no shame in a ‘Union Jack' and treated their Aussie Flag as a cut above the rest.

Between the Wars, when poverty was rampant, Australians rallied around the Flag

That men had gladly died for and called upon almighty God to help remove this snag,

And when our Politicians sought to overcome and motivate our spirit,

It was with Flag, and the Anzac courage, they urged our Nation not to limit.

Then tyranny, it struck again when Hitler's men and Tojo, sought to use their might,

And Anzacs were called again to assist our embattled Motherland even tho' it meant a fight;

So we fought again with the flag of Federation flying high atop the mast,

And under this oft' bloodied ensign we won a victory that we pray will last.

One hundred years have almost gone, and we can proudly stand alone,

Now they respect our voice upon the International stage, for we are not a clone,

Some say we ought to untie the apron strings and shed the Union Flag,

I doubt that Mother England would deny our freedom, nor our desire to brag.

If we decide to fly a different flag representing our maturity and Oz's new direction,

Don't ask that we should feel ashamed and cause an insurrection,

I'm bloody proud of my Australia mate, as I'm sure you'll be of yours,

And as time goes by you'll learn to honour the ‘old' Flag, despite its many flaws.

And if you've come from other lands and want to be an Aussie,

Learn first to speak our language, then our history of honour and Anzac spirit, and then

you'll find a possie,

'Tis so easy to set aside the efforts of our fathers and say ‘their tales are just a drag';

If we are all to be Australian, let's salute our mighty Flag!

Bill Phillips

1997

Aboriginals Were the First to Settle

Aboriginals were the first to settle

On this great Aussie land,

With spears they showed their mettle

When they tried to make a stand.

As the English had a modern gun

When they landed on the shore,

The Aboriginals had to run

Not knowing what was in store.

Their culture and their way of life

Was far behind the times

Of the modern English man and wife

Who annexed the country for home and mines.

Herbert M. Boys

Our Australia

Australia has a rugged beauty, its people diversified and proud,

They call our country ‘lucky' and say we're arrogant and loud;

We're known to boast and brag and pull a leg or two,

We've got a sense of humour that irritates a few.

Our History is of dark men who walked the land 'til colonists arrived,

We're told of exploration, outlaws and the dark men now deprived,

Of new towns and opening up the land, of rushes to fields of gold;

There were settlers with high hopes and governors who were bold.

We've learned to cope with famine, drought and sometimes fire and flood,

There have been times we've had to shed our blood;

These things have built our character and taught us how to win,

It has taken sheer determination and a lot of Aussie guts but we did it with a grin.

Our land is vast and there's opportunity for those who come,

They have to leave a place somewhere and never beat a drum,

We welcome all, regardless of colour, race or creed, who come to be an Aussie,

Prejudice is catching, so leave it all behind if you want to find a possie.

When times are tough and others might despair

An Aussie shows his courage and ensures a ‘go' that's fair;

We're Euro, Asian, Abo, Pom, Scot and Irish so we're the perfect brew,

But it's the mix of all we stand for that helps a mate pull through.

New Aussies come to settle and master soon our tongue,

They learn of pride and sacrifice, the things I learned when young,

Of Anzacs and later generations who emulate their style,

And they'll be as proud as I am when they've been here a while.

Some curse our politicians, ‘coppers', ‘abos', ‘wogs', and ‘slopes',

That's simply our tagging game but it makes us sound like dopes;

We're classless they will tell you, so you're all just one of us,

It's hard for visitors to comprehend and some wonder why the fuss.

If we are to be Australian, we are to be as one,

Not divided by the things that our forebears might have done;

There are heroes in our graveyards and I'm sure they'd find it strange,

That we've not passed our history on as generations change.

There's oft debate about who owns this rugged plain,

We've overlooked the fact that Terra Australis is God's domain;

Indigenes rage and claim to tracts we've come to love:

It's not the land that's ‘lucky' it is those who acknowledge the Master up above.

The things that do the damage to the image we portray,

— When there are moments I feel ashamed to even say ‘g'day' —

Are kids on drugs and alcohol-related crime, past bitterness and hate,

I don't care who you are, or where you're from, but if you learn to overcome,

I'll consider you a mate.

The year 2000 will see the world arrive at our front door,

They'll come to see the beauty of our rugged distant shore,

We'll show again our courage, our manners and our flag,

Our athletes will strive as others have before and if the cheers inspire them,

they've got it in the bag.

If you call yourself ‘Australian' then you're the proudest on this earth,

It's not a title that comes easy — you have to show your worth;

It means a fight, occasionally a tear, and you'll have to show your strength,

The old have paid their due and the young will too, at length.

Let us stand together, mixed races yet one band,

The nations of the world are coming to see our land,

They'll want to know why we rarely experience failure,

It is because we are part of this land we call Australia.

Bill Phillips

1997

“Gee, I Love this Country!”

As I sat in the mall on a bright and sunny day amunching my ‘Big Mac',

This little bloke came and sat on the bench beside me confiding that he'd

been to see the ‘Quack',

“Didn't cost me a cracker! Now where in the world could you beat that?” he asked.

I guessed that he was unemployed and agreed that he lived in a battlers' paradise

as we sat and basked.

We talked about the white and sandy beaches and the warm and rolling surf,

And he confessed that he'd never seen the sea until he'd left his patch of turf,

He'd been a drover, a farmer 'til the drought it drove him east

In search of something better than the harshness of the bush 'n' thought

“I might become a Priest!”

Not to be outdone I told of my story in reverse: a city bloke come to see the bush,

I'd felt the pain of joblessness and told of a battle with a different kind of push,

He said he'd thought all city blokes were toffs 'n' out of depth in a coastal plain,

But I seemed to him a decent type 'n' not a snob at all 'n' he'd felt a little pain.

We chatted on and talked of travel 'n' places that we'd seen,

To see if there was some common ground and experiences of places that we'd been,

Our conversation rolled thru' Alice, Darwin, the Isa and over to Albany,

There were bits of Longreach, Prosperpine, Hobart Town, Moree and it was kinda uncanny.

He'd been to 'most all the places that I had visited and we found a common bond.

We were one it seemed, two Aussies asitting on a bench,

linked by a devotion to the land of which we were fond;

We talked of our employment, homes and family and the price of this and that.

'N' raised a collective eyebrow of the inquisitive passers by who stared as we had our little chat.

We had travelled far and travelled wide and I'm sure our paths had crossed.