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HERO

“As a boy you’ll go away to that far off distant war
 And you’ll come back a man
 Of which my son I’m so proud.”
 
So off to this war I went
To a place that I was sent
‘Twas in an Asian far off land,
I was relishing childhood dreams,
‘Cause I was in footsteps following
As third generation of the clan
‘Cause my dad and grand pop too,
Had fought their fight
In keeping country pride
And in days gone by
When marching on parade in Anzac Days
For on their puffed out chests adorned
Wearing campaign medals on left breast,
To the sound of a big brass Salvos band
All in tune and all in step
Up St Kilda Road and onto the Shrine
With their heads held high.

And I as a kid felt proud
When waving a Australian flag
It was I with many others
Men, women and children lined ten deep
With spontaneous clapping and endless cheering
They were acknowledging in coming as heroes
Our lads and lasses victories.
So today on verandah I sit and ponder
Did I make my country proud?
By patrolling and just being in 
A sticking hot Asian country,
In jungle thick
Where cicadas click,
And no time for a shower
Or other homely comforts
As memories of a distant past,
Each digger on tender hooks
‘Cause you never knew
Just what lay ahead?

But mate bloody hell!
At a time back then
I’d really kill for a coldie
Or a ciggie would do,
Then again 
at that time I was counting
Only so many sleeps to go
To be on that Vung Tau Ferry
As she headed south
But right then this little back duck
With SLR at the ready
I was hoping Charlie wasn’t around that day.

But back home at that time 
From the land under
A minority of skeptics 
Was doing their darndest
To interrupt my war 
By spinning their implications
Of what was not
Going on in land called ‘Nam.
But here was I 
Learning skills of hit and go
And taking lessons
From little men dressed in black
Then blending in and melting
Into a jungle thick
Or carefully crossing
Across a rice paddy muddy thick and wet.

And when our Yankee dandy doodle friends
Got involved with their napalm
And their other sophisticated war machinery,
I now look back in hindsight and wonder
How easily could they have lost the plot?
When all they were fighting 
Whom they considered? 
Were only farmers, peasants 
And other human beings
Not some invincible skilled warring machines
Who had learned the tricks and skills
Of being at war
For over a hundred years
 
“As a boy you’ll go away to that far off distant war
 And you’ll come back a man
 Of which my son I’m so proud.”
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