Guyra Remembers
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Storm clouds over Europe and the land of the rising sun,
We fought the war to end all wars, now we fight another one.
Shiny shrapnel still at Gallipoli, no moss on the graves in France,
Australia’s sons are needed to shore up another stance.
Can you spare some lads from Guyra? The home of the red soil spuds,
See the world get 5 bob a day and a pair of khaki duds.
They answer the call for the nation, 600 of Tablelands youth,
A message to the Jap and German, the fight will be fought nail and tooth.
Five of them are Dowdells, the Davidson’s send six,
A trio from Little’s bakery, three Grills in the East side mix.
There’s a shearer driving tanks, a shed hand mans the gun,
A crewman on the “Canberra” is a local cocky’s son.
Fixing Spitfire engines, is a change from making hay,
Learning navigation, beats picking peas I’d say.
An oban boy’s in Burma, a baldersleigh bloke’s in Crete,
A Wandsworth nurse in Darwin, is tending blistered feet.
Night raids over Germany, search lights scan the sky,
A pilot from Llangothlin, evades that probing eye.
For the victor and the vanquished, there’s a price that all must pay,
There’s many a cost for those who go, and a charge on those who stay.
Like the mothers who grieve forever, the loss of a young son’s life,
The returning soldiers’ sweet heart, who’s now another man’s wife.
And the champion pre-war sportsman, a kicker of goals was he,
But it’s hard to add the extras, when you’re leg ends at the knee.
The digger who’s always laughing, is more troubled than we think,
He quells the torment within him, with an overdose of drink.
Finally the bloodshed finishes, but it’s only a temporary pause,
There’s Korea, Malaya and Vietnam and various skirmishing wars.
Conflicts disappear into history, but the deeds of the brave never fade,
Be fitting for all of our veterans, in honour their names be displayed.
To-day ‘Guyra remembers’, transfers to a plaque from a journal,
A list of our district heroes, with pride and our thanks eternal.
By David Bearup.