My favourite Anzac Day song

And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
Eric Bogle
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

*************************************

Sadly, the year before last was the last one in which a veteran of WWI marched. All the old men have died now.

What about Khe Sanh too?

I left my heart to the sappers 'round Khe Sanh,
And my soul was sold with my
cigarettes to the black market man.
I've had the Vietnam cold turkey from
the ocean to the Silver City.
And it's only other vets could understand.
'Bout the long forgotten dockside guarantees,
How there were no V-Day heroes in nineteen seventy-three.
How we sailed into Sydney Harbour,
Saw an old friend but couldn't kiss her,
She was lined,
And I was home to the lucky land.
She was like so many more from that time on,
Their lives were all so empty,
Till they'd found their chosen one,
And their legs were often open,
But their minds always closed,
And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains.
And the legal pad were yellow,
Hours long, paypackets lean,
And the telex writers clattered,
Where the gunships once had been;
But the carparks made me jumpy,
And I never stopped the dreams,
Or the growing need for speed or novacine.
So I worked across the country from end to end,
Tried to find a place to settle down,
Where my mixed-up life could mend,
Held a job on an oil-rig,
Flying choppers when I could,
But the night-life nearly drove me 'round the bend.
And I've travelled 'round the world from year to year,
And each one found me aimless,
One more year the worse for wear,
And I've been back to South East Asia,
But you know the answer sure ain't there,
But I'm drifting North,
To check things out again.
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone,
And only seven flying hours,
And I'll landing in Hong Kong,
And there ain't nothin' like kisses
from a jaded Chinese Princess,
I'm gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long.
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone,
You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone,
And it's got me worried,
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm in a hurry,
You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone.
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone.
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone.
It's really got me worried,
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm in a hurry,
You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone.

Thanks for that, Jachut. Do you know in all the years I have loved and listened to Chisel and/or Jimmy, I've never actually read those lyrics before. They are great!! Not quite Anzac Day stuff but excellent nevertheless. Thanks again :)

This one always struck a chord with me.

Redgum: I Was Only Nineteen

Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing-out parade at Puckapunyal
It was a long march from cadets.
The sixth battalion was the next to tour, and it was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra, Shoalwater before we left.

And Townsville lined the footpaths as we marched down to the quay
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.

From Vung Tau, riding Chinooks, to the dust at Nui Dat
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home, VB and pinups on the lockers
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.

And can you tell me, doctor, why I stil can't get to sleep?
And night-time's just a jungle dark and a barking M16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only ninteen.

A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legs
It was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down til they had you dusted off
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.

Then someone yelled out "Contact!" and the bloke behind me swore
We hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roar
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon,
God help me, he was going home in June.

I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung Tau
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle
Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row.

And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears
And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.
I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel
God help me, I was only nineteen.

And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.

I always get very emotional when I think about those who have endured the hardships of war and being away from their home.

Anzac day always brings at least 2 rounds of tears for me.

ANZAC day is all about Vietnam Vets too though Fanny! In fact that's what the song is about - how those coming back from Vietnam never got the support and recognition of their country the way WW1 and WW2 vets did and how it affected their lives. It was a hard war because it wasnt our war and the Australian people were not behind them.

We went to the dawn Service in Melbourne yesterday and they spent a bit of time talking about Vietnam.

ANZAC day is about all our war heroes - WW1, WW2, Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East.

Fair enough...