ANZAC - The Legend

I can still hear cannon firing

in the distance of my mind

and the sound of battle

high on Chunuk Bair

and the fading calls for 'Mother'

from dying wounded men;

and the dead on Lone Pine ridge

and Sari Bair

They came from Alexandra

and gold towns on the coast

while others worked the gumfields in the North

the scowman and the drover

the farmer and the clerk

each signed up for a shilling and a war.

They were kitted out in Trentham Camp

and sailed away at dawn

on HM Transports bound for morning tide.

Then, they came ashore in April

at a place called ANZAC Cove

and there in bloody battle

thousands died.

And they fought to hold the valleys

and they fought to hold the heights

and they fought to keep the Johnny Turk at bay.

And the angry roar of battle

and the clash of sword and steel

and the young lives lost

we remember on this day.

We commemorate Quinn's Post

we commemorate Pope's Hill

we commemorate Shrapnel Gully too.

And the Rhododendron Ridge line

the Apex and the Sphinx

and we lay a wreath for all the Kin we knew

*(pause)*

Distant Gallipoli remains forever

in this nation's memory.

That time of great conflict

and noble blood sacrifice

of young New Zealand men, and Australians

ANZACS

a generation lost in Legend;

who laid down their lives for King and Empire on foreign soil.

And now long years and legends past

young Kiwis and their Digger mates

venture to that Turkish coast

and marvel in silent tribute

at the sacrifice that was made

and our nationhood was raised

by brave young men with no known graves

who lie amongst the scrub thorn and the poppy red

on the blood soaked slopes of Chunuk Bair

and the dominating heights of Lone Pine and The Nek.

©Mike Subritzky

25 April 2002

In memory of the members of my family who were Anzacs, and my son Lance Corporal Danny Subritzky who served in the New Zealand Contingent at Gallipoli in the year 2002

ANZAC Exchange

Sarge I think I'm buggered,

I'm bitten on me back,

a bloody snakes bin crawlin' thru the grass.

So call the Medic quick,

to give me arm a prick,

and take away the pain until I pass.

Yer mate the Bombardier,

can have me 'ish' of beer,

I won't be drinkin' Fosters when I go.

I've wrote me mum a note,

and I've put it in me pack,

she's livin' down near Kunga-munga-mo.

So tell me Aussie mates,

you'ze Kiwi bloody skates,

have caused the death of one of Anzac's finest.

And when I pass away,

don't put me in the clay,

the bloody dingo's here are rife as goats.

What's that you bloody say,

the choppers on its way,

it won't be here in time to save this Digger.

The Doc he said it's what?

Now how did that get there?

A tear tab from a beer can caused this wound?

Well, the pain will pass away,

and I'll fight another day,

but PLEEZE you'ze Kiwis keep this to yourselves!

©Mike Subritzky

1986

161 Battery at Enoggora