The Happy Warrior (43 page)

To the tune of “Australia will be there!” Thus are they coming home!

What mean these absent numbers, the gaps in the stricken line?

You will find the graves which tell you, on the trail by Lonesome Pine,

On the slopes of Aki Baba, on Koja, Chemen's brow:

They died the death of heroes, as Australia's sons know how.

Eager for battle they leapt ashore at the cove where their name was won,

They stormed the cliffs of Sari Bair, where the death trap gullies run;

In the lead-rent scrub by Krithia, on the banks of the Kereves Dere,

High on the shell-swept ridges – Australia has been there!

There is silence on the beaches now, the battle-din has fled

From the gullies, cliffs, and ridges where they charged up, fought and bled.

There's a little cove that's sacred – north of Gaba Tepe Hill —

To the glory of the men who died, and a name that never will!

And now on the fields of Flanders, 'tis eternised once more:

At Pozieres, Armentieres, Messines, Bapaume, and Bullecourt,

At Polygon Wood, and Broodseinde, by the frozen Somme and Aisne

In the snow-clad front-line trenches — Australia is there again.

There are great white vessels sailing, and they bear the joy and pain,

And the glory of Australia's sons who have not bled in vain;

Tho' crippled, helpless, maimed for life, tho' more than death their loss,

There is more than life in the glory of the burden of their cross.

Greater than jewel-decked Emperor, greater than ermined King,

Clad in their faded suits of blue, the men that the white ships bring:

What tho' their crown a bandage, stretcher or cot their throne,

Splints or a crutch their sceptre, the Anzac name is their own!

EMC.

Durban, 1917

(AWM PR 00743)

Why Wear a Poppy?

“Please wear a poppy,” the lady said

And held one forth, but I shook my head.

Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there

And her face was old and lined with care,

But beneath the scars the years had made

There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,

Bouncing along on carefree feet;

His smile was full of joy and fun

“Lady,” said he,”May I have one?”

When she pinned it on he turned to say,

“Why do we wear a poppy today?”

The lady smiled in her wistful way

And answered, “This is Remembrance Day.

And the poppy there, is the symbol for

The gallant men who died in war,

And because they did, you and I are free

That's why we wear a poppy you see.”

“I had a boy about your age

With golden hair and big blue eyes,

He loved to play and jump and shout

Free as a bird he would race about,

As the years went by he learned and grew

And became a man — as you will, too.

“He was fine and strong with a boyish smile

But he seemed with us such a little while

When war broke out, and he went away —

I still remember his face that day.

When he smiled at me and said goodbye,

I'll be back soon, Mum, so please don't cry!”

“But the war went on and he had to stay,

And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight —

I can still see it, in my dreams a night,

With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire

And the mines and the bullets, the bombs and fire.

“Till at last, at last, the war was won —

And that's why we wear a poppy son.”

The small boy turned as if to go

Then said, “Thanks lady, I'm glad to know,

That sure did sound like an awful fight,

But your son — did he come home all right?”

A tear rolled down each faded cheek,

She shook her head, but she didn't speak

I slunk away in a sort of shame

And if you were me, you'd do the same.

For our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed

Though our freedom was bought, and thousands paid,

So when we see a poppy worn,

Let us reflect on the burden borne

By those who give their very all

When asked to answer their country's call

That we at home in peace might live,

Then wear a poppy. remember — and give.

Anon

A Soldier — His Prayer

A scrap of paper fluttered into the hands of an Eighth Army soldier sheltering in a slit trench during the battle of Agheila in the Western Desert. On the paper were written some verses. The author has never been traced. Perhaps, in his own words, he fell ‘Triumphed in the Dust' of the Western Desert. The verses have been preserved in ‘Poems from the Desert' by Members of the Eighth Army (Harrap).

Stay with me, God. The night is dark,

The night is cold: My little spark

Of courage dies. The night is long;

Be with me, God, and make me strong.

I love a game; I love a fight,

I hate the dark; I love the light,

I love my child; I love my wife,

I am no coward. I love life.

Life with its change of mood and shade.

I want to live. I'm not afraid,

But me and mine are hard to part;

Oh, unknown God, lift up my heart.

You stilled the waters at Dunkirk,

You saved your servants.

All your work is wonderful, dear God.

You strode before us down that dreadful road.

We were alone, and hope had fled;

We loved our country and our dead,

And could not shame them; so we stayed

The course, and were not much afraid.

Dear God, that nightmare road!

And then that sea! We got there... We were men.

My eyes were blind, my feet were torn,

My soul sang like a bird at dawn!

I know that death is but a door,

I knew what we were fighting for;

Peace for the kids, our brothers freed,

A kinder world, a cleaner breed.

I'm but a son my mother bore,

A simple man, and nothing more,

But, God of strength and gentleness,

Be pleased to make me nothing less.

Help me, O God, when death is near,

To mock the haggard face of fear,

That when I fall — if fall I must —

My soul may triumph in the dust.

Anon

(AWM PR 00392)

Bomber's Prayer

Under the shadow of thy wings

Protect us Lord,

Thou Master of all living things

Extend thy might

And guard us as we fly

The long bleak stretches of the night,

Protagonists of law

And immemorial right.

And from the hunter's snare

Deliver us

The high flung nets of light

The shrapnel's ugly spite

The lurking kite

And peril instant everywhere.

If errand done,

With pinions maimed and crew spent

There rests

No hope to reach the kindly nests

Where blithely sings

The guardian sea about our island home,

O gather us yet closer, Lord

Content

Beneath the shadow of thy saving wings.

Chaplain D. Trathen

(AWM PR 00218)

A Soldier's Prayer

Our Father, which art in Heaven, hear my prayer;

Death strikes all around me everywhere.

Give me the strength temptation's power to baulk,

That I may honoured be where'er I walk.

If upon me the grim hand should be laid,

Give me the strength to take it undismayed.

Bless thou my country's cause, defend the king,

And to my dear ones peace and solace bring;

Grant us each day a place among the brave,

And, if I fall, new life beyond the grave.

Amen

Anon

“Casting All Your Care Upon Him, for He Careth for You”.

1 Peter 5–7

Have you ever felt disheartened with the turmoil and the strife,

That surrounds you as you journey on your way?

Have you ever thought the load you carry, more than you can bear

As you tread along the weary road called life?

Have you ever felt the burden of your troubles and your cares

To get greater as each weary day goes by?

Or does the road get rougher with each faltering step you take,

As you in your weariness, despondent sigh?

Have you ever felt the need of one in whom you could confide,

Who would help you, share your burdens and your woe?

Who would guide you o'er the roughest road,

And give you cheer and comfort as you go.

Have you ever looked to Jesus, who will all your burdens take?

Who said, “Come and cast upon Me all your care”?

For through life He will sustain you, for He careth much for you

And He'll never ever leave you nor forsake.

He will give you strength and comfort, He will give you joy and peace,

He will be a present help in time of need,

And when this life is over, and you leave this vale of tears,

He will still be with you in Eternity.

W. J. Baker

Canungra

6 July1944

A Mother's Prayer for Her Son

As Thou didst walk the lanes of Galilee,

So loving Saviour, walk with him for me,

For since the years have passed and he is grown,

I cannot follow — he must walk alone.

Be Thou my feet that I have had to stay,

For Thou canst comrade him on every way;

Be Thou my voice when sinful things allure,

Pleading with him to choose those that endure.

Be Thou my hand that would keep his in mine,

And all things else that mothers must resign;

When he was little, I would walk and guide,

But now I pray that Thou be at his side,

And as the Blessed Mother folded Thee,

So kind and loving Saviour,

fold my dear son for me.

Anon

A Soldier's Prayer

Oh, Lord, our Father, up on high

Harken to this soldier's cry!

As on bended knee I pray

For loved ones far away.

Bless my mother sweet and fair,

My love for her none can compare,

Guide and guard her every way,

Keep her safe from day to day.

To my father give solace,

May his name I ne'er disgrace,

In years gone by he did his part,

May I but have his fighting heart.

To sisters all, and brothers too.

Give thy guidance strong and true;

In this hour of toil and strife

Teach them tolerance, love of life.

To each true and loyal friend

Thine understanding, love, please lend,

And each comrade at my side

Through this turmoil safely guide.

Oh, Lord, our father up on high

Harken to my feeble cry!

To this struggle bring surcease

Grant us everlasting peace.

Lord, our Father, in your keeping

I leave them all, at work or sleeping;

Grant to me, Oh Lord, I ask,

The strength to do my chosen task!

Cpl R Lawrence (?)

(AWM PR 00392)

The Airman's Prayer

Almighty and all-present power

Short is the prayer I make thee,

I do not ask in battle hour

For shield to cover me.

The vast unalterable way

From which the stars do not depart

May not be turned aside today

The bullet flying to my heart.

I ask no help to strike my foe,

I seek no petty victory here;

The enemy I hate, I know

To thee is also dear.

But this I pray: Be at my side

When death is drawing through the sky,

Almighty God who also died

Teach the way that I should die.

Anon

Milne Bay

The Captives' Hymn

Father, in captivity

We would lift our prayer to Thee,

Keep us ever in Thy love,

Grant that daily we may prove

Those who place their trust in Thee

More than conquerors may be.

May the day of freedom dawn,

Peace and Justice be reborn.

Grant that nations, loving Thee,

O'er the world may brothers be,

Cleansed by suffering, know rebirth,

See Thy kingdom come on earth.

Anon

MILITARY RANKS

Bdr:
Bombardier

Capt.:
Captain

CO:
Commanding 
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