Notebook of Harry Raymond Green -Sep 1941- Apr - 1943 - Part 8

It was all drawn out in colours

Like a blinking circius Bill

And I read the blooming sign 

And looked at it until.

I thought of all the other mugs

Who had seen that sign before

And had joined the ruddy A.I.F.

And went away to war.

Then I laughed and shook my head 

and said to it "Not Me!

you don't get me a going

Far across the sea.
You don't get me in Khaki

With a great big thumping pack

To finish up in some shell hole

with a bullet in my back

So I sauntered down the city streets

As merry as could be

Until another flaming sign

Above my head I see.

It said to me to pull my weight

And keep my country out 

To be a blinking soldier

And Not a useless lout.
It showed some coves in uniforms

A pulling on a rope

They wanted another cove to help

And Me to be the dope.

They wanted me in their Army

With their stupid cocked up hats

And their blooming heavy army boots

And gaiters just like spats.

I just laughed & shook my head

and said to it "Not Me!

You don't get me in Khaki duds

To sail across the Sea.

I an't no flaming hero.

And I aint not flaming mug

Before I join your Army

You can slap me in the jug.

So I rambled on down the city street

As happy as can be

Until a little sign I spied

just nailed upon a tree

It said back up your cobbers now

Because they need you bad

There in a spot and cornered

So come and help them lad.

It was only just a little sign

and very plain as well

It had no glaring colours

And it hadn't much to tell
But as I looked at it and thought

What it was all about

I began to think that I was wrong

My mind began to doubt.
I've never let a cobber down

No matter what the odds

I've always helped my comrades out

In all sorts of solid jobs.
And then I was just loafing round

While they were drenched with gore

From getting belted by a mob

I'll tell you I felt sore.
And now I marches down the streets

As proud as I can be

because the clothes I am wearing now

Are made of Green Khaki.
And I just laughs & shakes my head

and says aloud "Not Me!"

you don't get me to stay at Home

I am off across the Seas.

The End.

Lest We Forget.

Dauntless deeds of courage

By which Australians know

Shall flourish on for ever

From a new seed thats been sown

By a soldier of the A.I.F.

Who face to face with God

Pleaded for his comrades

Before the Firing squad.

But the pleading of this noble man

Beneath the sunlit sky

Were unavailing as he stood there

and showed them how to die.

The old slouched hat lay battered

With its dinted rising sun

And an angle gently (murmed) mumered

"Duty Nobley Done"

Greater love hath no man

Those words are old but true

And in the distant future

They'll bring thoughts to you

Of how an Aussie comrade

Bright eyed and camly, for

Himself to the greater sacrifice

On the shores of Singapore.

Now he's resting near the palm trees

But he's in no lonely grave

For he's with our other Comrades

And the boy he tried to save

Angles stand there guarding

Like us their eyes are dim

Each evening at Retreat

Comrades remember him.

The End

The Anzac's of Singapore.

They fought and died for Australia

For whom they worked and played

They seldom knew of failure

Till the day they were betrayed
In the stifling humid jungle

From Gemas to Johore

They fought against terrific odds

Till they came to Singapore
With never a plane to defend them

Bombs came raining from the sky

Machine guns spat at the helpless lads

Their pals had to watch them die.
When finally this story is written

With Broken hearts on the mend

We'll hear of the heroes of Singapore

Who fought to the bitter End.

The End.

Drawing - see original document

P.O.W. BUKIT TIMAH    AUGUST1942

J. Tomsett.                     T.G. Davis

Kings St.                        Seelands

Molong.                         Grafton N.S.W.

Wells R. G.                    [*D. Kentwell.

Wallah Gresford.           16 Barry St.

N.S.W.                           Clyde.  N.S.W.*]

S.R. Green.

Byerawering Station.

Coodooga N.S.W.

L.C. Glover  (Died in Burma)

Fitzroy St

Cowra N.S.W.   

A. Williams

34 Saint Geordes Cresent 

Drummoyne.

R. Cant                           W. Sorrenson.

L 2478,                            High Field.

Taylor & Curry.                 Kayogle.

Beaconfield.                     H.J. Brown.

Fremantle. W.A.               Linsley St.

R.J. McBurney.                 Cobar. Box 65.

3 Hawkhurst St;

Marrickville.

The Deserted Pub:

To-night as I sit in my dug-out

Consuming a portion of grub

My mind did a couple of hand springs

As I thought to O'Donovan's Pub.

A ramshackle wooden construction

A pride of the town of Boogie

Some think it's a job for the wreckers

But its an Hotel Australia to me.

Before I went mad and enlisted

The bar was a haven of cheer

Around it the lads use to gather

And elbow their way to the beer.

They say the old town is deserted

Its streets neglected And bare

And Mrs O'Donovans clients

Are becoming increasingly rare.

The cops hang in vain round the doorway

To catch people drinking at night

The old fellows drink in the day time

The lads have gone over to fight

The jokes they crack to each other

They laugh at in Ailen lands

There holding Machine Guns and rifles

Where once they held pints in their hands.

They joined as their fathers before them

From river valley and hills

They put down their pots & their plough shear's

and went into camp with a will

They came to the counter in Khaki

And thought of the money they'd spent

They planted a kiss on the barmaid

Who filled them with Beer as they went.

The Saturday afternoon scramble

They say its a thing of the past

And Bankrupt the town S.P. Bookie

Has put up his shutters at last

The brass counter rail is empty

Where once it held plenty of fat

And gone are the number of trousers

That polished the old wooden seat.

The eyes of the barmaid are listless

Her Beer mopping rag is quiet dry

And only a few aged trappers

Help the afternoon's go by

The clock ticks forlornly above her

The beer trickles forth with a sigh

Dejected its given up trying

To please an unappreciative eye:

You strangers who pause near the roof top

To sample the schooner that cheers

Just think of the lads that are fighting

And the pub they supported for years

There was Jack & Bill Blogs from the bake house

Jim Rogers and Frankie O'Dare

Most of the boys from the saw mill

Are over their doing their share:

Jack Peters went west at Bengazi

Blue Randal was buried at sea

Theirs a lot of the boys in Malaya

Including Frank Dishon and me

Think of the hard-ships there facing

Distruction sorrow and pain

And think of the day they long for

To set foot in Aussie Again:

Some-day they'll be in their home town

To see sweethearts mothers and wives

They'll dash to the Pub for a quick one

And stay their the rest of their lives

The beer will gush forth like Niagara

The lager will sparkle with glee

And glasses will click to Australia

The land of the brave and the Free.

March North (F. Force.)   End.

^1/ You may have seen this title

About some other March so grand

But they were just a picnic

To the one across Thailand.

^2/ It started down at changi

In rice trucks by rail

For six days through Malaya

then at Bampong starts the tale.

The first three nights were not to bad

along a main road grand

Then into swamp & jungle

^3/ Went our intrepid band.

Here were three thousand A.I.F.

Three thousand British too

The good old British Lion

and old Aussies Kangaroo.

^4/ In parties of six Hundred

We set out each night

To march about eighteen miles

The prospect wasn't bright.

^5/ Feet soon were blistered, raw & xxx sore

Treatment hard to get

But the order "Ever Onward"

"Ever Onward" yet.

^6/ The food we had was not too good

And what there was not nice

Two meals of dried radish

With each a plate of rice.

^7/ We left the swamp behind us

Then into jungles of Bamboo

Poisonous snakes & scorpions

And many tigers too.

^8/ Then we hit the mountains

The road was pretty steep

The climbing it was bloody bad

Enough to make you weep.

But on and on we battled

Getting thin and gaunt

When we get relieved from here

This trek our dreams will haunt.

^9/ Men dropped by the wayside

Exhausted tired & sick

Unable to go another step

They'ed played their final trick.

^10/ Hospitals were crowded

With weary, foot-sore men

Dysentry took a heavy toll

Cholera broke out then.

^11/ Now the March is over

After two hundred weary miles

Men work on roads & railway

Or maybe driving Piles.

^12/ So when this war is over

And you hear talk of marches grand

Just "Dip your lids" to the Legions

Who tramped across thialand.

^13/ Think of the men who paid the price

And rest in that far of land

Who'd gone through blood & battle

But died at diseased hand.

For the Reapers Swung a heavy scythe

Upon that Thialand trail

With grisley bones he danced a jig

Told many a ghastly tale.

^14/ So we who were upon it

And saw the toll "he took"

Will sneer when we read of glory

In some "Great War" History Book.

^15/ We stood and saw pals buried

Struck down in all their prime,

Then staggered on another lap

In that God forsaken cline.

^16/ Although not "Killed in Action"

They were Heroes all

At "Revielle" & "Retreat"

Their memories we'll recall.

^17/ Though you preach to us of Glory

And tell us of deeds so grand

Excuse us if we scorn you

For we marched across Thialand.

^18/ So when the price you tally

for "God  Sake" see its high

For the death of our marching comrades 

Was a horrible one to die.

^19/ And when the talks of marches

And some hard trek you recall

Just remember the unsung Heroes

Of "That Greatest March of All."

The End.

"If we Only Had Australia over Here.

I was dreaming of Australia

The land we left behind 

I was thinking of my loved ones

They are always in our mind,

Then I saw a vision splendid

To me it did appear

Now I wonder what would happen

If we had Australia here.

Chorus.

If the "Arbour" bridge was spanned

across the causeway

and "Old Fremantle came to Singapore

If the Adelaide bells rang out at Buka Timah

And Bondi Beach was lined around

the shore.

If the "river Yarra" flowed into

the harbour

and RockHampton on the Island

did appear.

We would never want to roam

We would always stay at Home

If we only had Australia over here.

We'd be sailing o'er the "Arbour"

The show boat our first choice

Or maybe we'd be dancing

Listening to our sweethearts voice

Then I whisper softly

I'll never leave you dear

I'm (surv) sure thats what would

happen

If we had Australia here.

Repeat Chorus.

The End.

R.S. Sharples

18 John St.

Reid Town

Corrimal

South Coast

N.S.W.

W. McIntyre

71 Ramsgate Rd

Kogarah N.S.W.

W.J. Harper

Stradford

via Cairns N.Q.

J. Tomsett

King Street

Molong

N.S. Wales