ANZAC DAY - 2011

[slick_mick]

Today is ANZAC Day - 25th April, 2011.



They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Lest We Forget!

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Lest We Forget.JPG

[Desert Rat]

Lest We Forget.

[Malcolm Davey]

A Poem for Remembrance Day

"The inquisitive mind of a child"

Why are they selling poppies, Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today.
The poppies, child, are flowers of love.
For the men who marched away.

But why have they chosen a poppy, Mummy?
Why not a beautiful rose?
Because my child, men fought and died
In the fields where the poppies grow.

But why are the poppies so red, Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child.
The blood that our soldiers shed.

The heart of the poppy is black, Mummy.
Why does it have to be black?
Black, my child, is the symbol of grief.
For the men who never came back.

But why, Mummy are you crying so?
Your tears are giving you pain.
My tears are my fears for you my child.
For the world is forgetting again.

[Tinto]

Here is another poem, sent to me from a friend in Australia.
Tinto

A poem to read for ANZAC day.

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the RSL,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his mates listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.

He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife..
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It's so easy to forget them,
For it is so many times
That our Bobs and Jims and Johnnys,
Went to battle, but we know,

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days..

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank cheque made payable to ' Australia ', ' New Zealand ', or any other God fearing country for an amount "up to and including my life".

That is Honour, and there are way too many people in this WORLD who no longer understand it.

Pass On The Patriotism!

[REMEVMBEA1]

If You Were There

When I was born, you were not there,
But You could have been.
As I grew up and went to school, You were not there,
But You could have been.
As I left my school and went to work, You were not there,
But You could have been.
When I met my girl and married, You were not there,
But You could have been.
You never saw our children, and our grandchildren, You were not there,
But You could have been.
At the Dawn Service this morning, as the old, the young and the children gathered,
Well, that was different.
For a few fleeting moments as the dawn arrived, I think that You were there,
I hope so, I did not see You, my eyes were blurred.
But I need to say Thank You, for the life I have led.
God Bless You and Rest in Peace Anzac’s.

If I may add one more... in my humble opinion, one of the most terrifying and yet moving of all the Great War poems.

Its brevity reflects the short lives of the fallen, and its message is as heart-stopping as a telegram from the War Office.

Anthem for Doomed Youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, --
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Wilfred Owen.

[johnG]

A great collection of poems. Thank you for posting them.

One of my fondest memories of Anzec Day is of 1958. After the parade on the Esplanade in Perth a heap of us from 10LH finished up back at my house in West Perth, where a keg was on. (For the uninitiated that means the beer was flowing)

Came departure time, and the guys showed their skill as Ferret drivers by chasing thier cars round in round in a circle outside my house before departing with much horn blowing.

Two days later.....A traffic cop pulls up outside the house.......a cop is his full time job, but he is also a Corporal in my troop in the CMF (The Australian TA) and one of the blokes who was driving around in that circle.

With a dead-pan face he tells me he has come to investigate a complaint of dangerous driving by persons on leaving my house on Anzec Day. Naturtally I apologised and said the persons concerned would be disiplined..... we then had a good laugh about it. (Actually what he said was '"Gees, when I saw that one I though I better get on to it fast". He was a good lad.)

Fast forward to Thursday evening, and I call him into the Squadron Office and tell him "Corporal D........, I have had a compaint about your driving". Ah well, not often one got the chance to do that to a traffic cop, and an excuse for a few more beers on it.

Great days, fantastic memories, and on Anzec Day I promise you I played a recording of 'Advance Australia Fair' and stood up during it. I felt priviledged to do so.

John

[orasot]

I spent a wonderful ANZAC day yesterday in Pozieres with Magpie & a group of friends from Australia, they presented Dominic with a large Aussie flag which now hangs proudly on the wall of the Tommy Bar ! They came bearing gifts for me too & I was gobsmacked to be given a WW1 recruiting poster from London & a superb soldiers bible which was owned by an Australian who carried it through the war, writing the battles in it that he fought in, excellent pieces of history. Shame the day went so fast but we paid our respects at the memorial & had a day to remember, best wishes,
Wilf.

[davec2]

Originally Posted by Tinto

Here is another poem, sent to me from a friend in Australia.
Tinto

A poem to read for ANZAC day.

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the RSL,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his mates listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.

He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife..
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It's so easy to forget them,
For it is so many times
That our Bobs and Jims and Johnnys,
Went to battle, but we know,

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days..

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank cheque made payable to ' Australia ', ' New Zealand ', or any other God fearing country for an amount "up to and including my life".

That is Honour, and there are way too many people in this WORLD who no longer understand it.

Pass On The Patriotism!

Thanks John,

All these poems are capable of making me well up, yes, I can be a big softie but I found yours to be more than a poem, more like a fact of life in this often bitter world !!

Dave.

[Tinto]

Thanks, Dave. And Thanks for Wilf and Co. for your pilgrimage to the Western Front. Much appreciated.
Tinto (John)