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Thread: For the ANZACS.....

  1. #1

    For the ANZACS.....

    The ANZAC on the Wall

    Written By Jim Brown

    I wandered thru a country town 'cos I had time to spare,
    And went into an antique shop to see what was in there.
    Old Bikes and pumps and kero lamps, but hidden by it all,
    A photo of a soldier boy - an ANZAC on the Wall.

    "The ANZAC have a name?" I asked. The old man answered "No,.
    The ones who could have told me mate, have passed on long ago.
    The old man kept on talking and, according to his tale,
    The photo was unwanted junk bought from a clearance sale.

    "I asked around," the old man said, "but no one knows his face,
    He's been on that wall twenty years, deserves a better place.
    For some one must have loved him so, it seems a shame somehow."
    I nodded in agreement and then said, "I'll take him now."

    My nameless digger's photo, well it was a sorry sight
    A cracked glass pane and a broken frame - I had to make it right
    To prise the photo from its frame I took care just in case,
    "Cause only sticky paper held the cardboard back in place.

    I peeled away the faded screed and much to my surprise,
    Two letters and a telegram appeared before my eyes
    The first reveals my ANZAC's name, and regiment of course
    John Mathew Francis Stuart - of Australia's own Light Horse.

    This letter written from the front, my interest now was keen
    This note was dated August seventh 1917
    "Dear Mum, I'm at Khalasa Springs not far from the Red Sea
    They say it's in the Bible - looks like Billabong to me.

    "My Kathy wrote I'm in her prayers she's still my bride to be
    I just cant wait to see you both you're all the world to me
    And Mum you'll soon meet Bluey, last month they shipped him out
    I told him to call on you when he's up and about."

    "That bluey is a larrikin, and we all thought it funny
    He lobbed a Turkish hand grenade into the CO's dunny.
    I told you how he dragged me wounded in from no man's land
    He stopped the bleeding closed the wound with only his bare hand."

    "Then he copped it at the front from some stray shrapnel blast
    It was my turn to drag him in and I thought he wouldn't last
    He woke up in hospital, and nearly lost his mind
    Cause out there on the battlefield he'd left one leg behind."

    "He's been in a bad way mum, he knows he'll ride no more
    Like me he loves a horse's back he was a champ before.
    So Please Mum can you take him in, he's been like my brother
    Raised in a Queensland orphanage he' s never known a mother."

    But Struth, I miss Australia mum, and in my mind each day
    I am a mountain cattleman on high plains far away
    I'm mustering white-faced cattle, with no camel's hump in sight
    And I waltz my Matilda by a campfire every night

    I wonder who rides Billy, I heard the pub burnt down
    I'll always love you and please say hooroo to all in town".
    The second letter I could see was in a lady's hand
    An answer to her soldier son there in a foreign land

    Her copperplate was perfect, the pages neat and clean
    It bore the date November 3rd 1917.
    "T'was hard enough to lose your Dad, without you at the war
    I'd hoped you would be home by now - each day I miss you more"

    "Your Kathy calls around a lot since you have been away
    To share with me her hopes and dreams about your wedding day
    And Bluey has arrived - and what a godsend he has been
    We talked and laughed for days about the things you've done and seen"

    "He really is a comfort, and works hard around the farm,
    I read the same hope in his eyes that you won't come to harm.
    Mc Connell's kids rode Billy, but suddenly that changed
    We had a violent lightning storm, and it was really strange."

    "Last Wednesday just on midnight, not a single cloud in sight
    It raged for several minutes, it gave us all a fright
    It really spooked your Billy - and he screamed and bucked and reared
    And then he rushed the sliprail fence, which by a foot he cleared"
    "They brought him back next afternoon, but something's changed I fear
    It's like the day you brought him home, for no one can get near
    Remember when you caught him with his black and flowing mane?
    Now Horse breakers fear the beast that only you can tame,"
    "That's why we need you home son" - then the flow of ink went dry-
    This letter was unfinished, and I couldn't work out why.
    Until I started reading the letter number three
    A yellow telegram delivered news of tragedy
    Her son killed in action - oh - what pain that must have been
    The Same date as her letter - 3rd November 17
    This letter which was never sent, became then one of three
    She sealed behind the photo's face - the face she longed to see.

    And John's home town's old timers -children when he went to war
    Would say no greater cattleman had left the town before.
    They knew his widowed mother well - and with respect did tell
    How when she lost her only boy she lost her mind as well.
    She could not face the awful truth, to strangers she would speak
    "My Johnny's at the war you know , he's coming home next week."
    They all remembered Bluey he stayed on to the end
    A younger man with wooden leg became her closest friend

    And he would go and find her when she wandered old and weak
    And always softly say "yes dear - John will be home next week."
    Then when she died Bluey moved on, to Queensland some did say
    I tried to find out where he went, but dont know to this day
    And Kathy never wed - a lonely spinster some found odd
    She wouldn't set foot in a church - she'd turned her back on God
    John's mother left no will I learned on my detective trail
    This explains my photo's journey, that clearance sale
    So I continued digging cause I wanted to know more
    I found John's name with thousands in the records of the war
    His last ride proved his courage - a ride you will acclaim
    The Light Horse Charge at Beersheba of everlasting fame

    That last day in October back in 1917
    At 4pm our brave boys fell - that sad fact I did glean
    That's when John's life was sacrificed, the record's crystal clear
    But 4pm in Beersheba is midnight over here.......
    So as John's gallant sprit rose to cross the great divide
    Were lightning bolts back home a signal from the other side?
    Is that why Billy bolted and went racing as in pain?
    Because he'd never feel his master on his back again?
    Was it coincidental? same time - same day - same date?

    Some proof of numerology, or just a quirk of fate?
    I think it's more than that, you know, as I've heard wiser men,
    Acknowledge there are many things that go beyond our ken

    Where craggy peaks guard secrets neath dark skies torn asunder
    Where hoof beats are companions to the rolling waves of thunder
    Where lightning cracks like 303's and ricochets again
    Where howling moaning gusts of wind sound just like dying men
    Some Mountain cattlemen have sworn on lonely alpine track
    They've glimpsed a huge black stallion - Light Horseman on his back.

    Yes Sceptics say, it's swirling clouds just forming apparitions
    Oh no, my friend you cant dismiss all this as superstition
    The desert of Beersheba - or windswept Aussie range
    John Stuart rides forever there - Now I don't find that strange.
    Now some gaze at this photo, and they often question me
    And I tell them a small white lie, and say he's family.
    "You must be proud of him." they say - I tell them, one and all,
    That's why he takes the pride of place - my ANZAC on the Wall.
    Owning a gun or knife and not using it, is akin to not sleeping with your girlfriend to keep her neat and tidy for the next bloke.

  2. #2
    Thanks for posting, four of my mothers family killed in WW1.....the first on 24.10.14 the last on 9.4.18. I hope to make a trip of respect to France and Belgium this year.....

  3. #3
    Thanks Digger you brought a lump to my throat, I think I must be going soft mate.
    It's the calibre of the shooter that counts not the calibre of the rifle.

  4. #4
    Always good to remember your mates. Anyone for Two Up?

  5. #5
    Me too, thanks for posting that Digger.



  6. #6
    A touching reminder of what the soldiers who fought in that war went through for all of us here today.
    I wish I was half the hunter my dog thinks I am

  7. #7
    nice one digger thanks for posting

  8. #8
    No worries boys.

    They've had the Dawn Service within the last few hours down there, missed it Again!

    Owning a gun or knife and not using it, is akin to not sleeping with your girlfriend to keep her neat and tidy for the next bloke.

  9. #9
    the dawn service in london is at 5.00am our time, 5.5hrs from now digger.
    I wish I was half the hunter my dog thinks I am

  10. #10

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