tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27540291.post114891602624192920..comments2023-11-03T06:05:10.770-04:00Comments on Sprawling Ramshackle Compound: Memorial Day is there for a reasonUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27540291.post-1148948943281562512006-05-29T20:29:00.000-04:002006-05-29T20:29:00.000-04:00Oh, and the other song I was thinking about, of co...Oh, and the other song I was thinking about, of course, was "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda"<BR/><BR/>Now when I was a young man I carried me pack<BR/>And I lived the free life of the rover.<BR/>From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,<BR/>Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.<BR/>Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,<BR/>It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."<BR/>So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,<BR/>And they marched me away to the war.<BR/><BR/> And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"<BR/> As the ship pulled away from the quay,<BR/> And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,<BR/> We sailed off for Gallipoli.<BR/><BR/>And how well I remember that terrible day,<BR/>How our blood stained the sand and the water;<BR/>And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay<BR/>We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.<BR/>Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;<BR/>He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --<BR/>And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,<BR/>Nearly blew us right back to Australia.<BR/><BR/> But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"<BR/> When we stopped to bury our slain,<BR/> Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,<BR/> Then we started all over again.<BR/><BR/>And those that were left, well, we tried to survive<BR/>In that mad world of blood, death and fire.<BR/>And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive<BR/>Though around me the corpses piled higher.<BR/>Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,<BR/>And when I woke up in me hospital bed<BR/>And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --<BR/>Never knew there was worse things than dying.<BR/><BR/> For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"<BR/> All around the green bush far and free --<BR/> To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,<BR/> No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.<BR/><BR/>So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,<BR/>And they shipped us back home to Australia.<BR/>The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,<BR/>Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.<BR/>And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,<BR/>I looked at the place where me legs used to be,<BR/>And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,<BR/>To grieve, to mourn and to pity.<BR/><BR/> But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"<BR/> As they carried us down the gangway,<BR/> But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,<BR/> Then they turned all their faces away.<BR/><BR/>And so now every April, I sit on my porch<BR/>And I watch the parade pass before me.<BR/>And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,<BR/>Reviving old dreams of past glory,<BR/>And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,<BR/>They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war<BR/>And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"<BR/>And I ask meself the same question.<BR/><BR/> But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"<BR/> And the old men still answer the call,<BR/> But as year follows year, more old men disappear<BR/> Someday, no one will march there at all.<BR/><BR/> Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.<BR/> Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?<BR/> And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,<BR/> Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?Joehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09747874295331152779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27540291.post-1148948836455002432006-05-29T20:27:00.000-04:002006-05-29T20:27:00.000-04:00Beautiful, thanks. I almost posted In Flanders Fi...Beautiful, thanks. I almost posted In Flanders Fields:<BR/><BR/>N FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow<BR/>Between the crosses row on row,<BR/>That mark our place; and in the sky<BR/>The larks, still bravely singing, fly<BR/>Scarce heard amid the guns below.<BR/><BR/>We are the Dead. Short days ago<BR/>We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<BR/>Loved and were loved, and now we lie<BR/>In Flanders fields.<BR/><BR/>Take up our quarrel with the foe:<BR/>To you from failing hands we throw<BR/>The torch; be yours to hold it high.<BR/>If ye break faith with us who die<BR/>We shall not sleep, though poppies grow<BR/>In Flanders fields.Joehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09747874295331152779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27540291.post-1148917324388674312006-05-29T11:42:00.000-04:002006-05-29T11:42:00.000-04:00Thank you Dad. I actually didn't know what Memoria...Thank you Dad. I actually didn't know what Memorial Day was about. I will say a prayer today.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com