

OR 26604 days.


Lest We Forget..
Poetic memories of wartime terror.
SORRY about the language, but I talk in soldier language sometimes.
But thank Christ I wasn’t in the Vietnam show.
I was scared all the bloody time.
But it was my duty.
We didn’t think anything of it – it was just a job.
Guys would have “slight epileptic fits” and vomit after missions.
Once our vomiting was over we would rest a bit before going up again.
They’d help you out if you were short of a couple of quid.
Living off herrings for a fortnight.
We had a herring three times a day and once you’d eaten it you’d go outside and vomit it up again.
I didn’t drink before I enlisted. I didn’t have the nervous condition that forced him onto special pension.
Some of my drinking mates have died.
Wally wrote a poem whilst serving in World War 2 for the Royal Australian Air Force.
It is called Beaufort Aircraft and was written on February 5th 1943.
No flags unfurl’d, no honored state,
No priests to chant the final dirge,
Only the huge black billows of smoke,
And flame – skyward to surge.
Who knew you; saluted, proud, true,
We who knew you as a friend,
Stood , amazed, wondering on that shore,
Of nakedness – can this be the end.
Published in the Standard Messenger, Wednesday, April 19, 1959 i think it says, in faded ink paper words.
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