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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required SANDS OF GALLIPOLI’S BLOOD On the sands where diggers bled As they came ashore, To fight the good fight, Puppets of a master’s whim Of loyalty to a crown of way beyond, No hesitation to join and follow fellow brothers here, From the land of hard toil of country life, From the landscapes of city folks, From mining deep down in mining coals, From the fields where they dug for gold, To butchering beasts on the hooks, And from behind the counters of banks, post offices and desks in offices, They came not hesitating, They came in droves, Some were boys who lied about their age, And some were older who lowered the time of their existence here on earth, And many here were wanting to escape an existence of being bored, And many fathers and sons said goodbye to mum, And for the majority They were in their prime, The cream of this young nation’s crop, And in their droves descending strong Upon the place where they swore allegiance to a King they didn’t know, Then on a meagre practice of scantily put together months, They left our shore, Packed like sardines in their ships, Off on their great adventure and escape from a relatively known to unknown, And from Albany Sound that day in November First of convoy of ‘Zacs departed, And on the way a decision made to bring together this motley crew, To land upon a foreign shore And storm the shores of a place, That’s gone down in history to be Where on that fateful day A legend was born, And became widely known as; The sands of Gallipoli’s blood. Francis Cooper – Mac © 30-Jun-20
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