The Last of the ANZACS

The Last of the ANZACS died
he could survive Gallipoli
but old age doesn’t respect veterans
just like war it ignores humanity

He told us what we should know
“War is Hell. War is stupid.”
war is a matter of luck
Ted’s notebook saved him from a different story,
the paper smothering the lead bullett
just like gas smothered men in the trenches of Europe

These men volunteered for slaughter
ten thousand Australians dead
victims of ill winds and stupidity

They leapt off the boats
with the sea a pane of smooth glass
a morbid mist of jangling nerves
unknowingly, a mile away from life
a mile from where they should have been

Some drowned before they got to the beach,
weighed down by hopes prepared for shallow waters
heavy packs of preparation rendered useless
as they were grabbed by fate.
They wouldn’t die with their mates only minutes later

They wouldn’t share the privilege
of joining the dig, dig, Diggers
                The general dig in mentality
gripped khaki rabbits burrowing for their lives
urged on by the rat-tatting of machine guns
and bloated black corpses cooked by the sun

hopes were shrivelled by the heat of battle
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed one minute,
struck stone dead the next

At the time, there was no chance to think
just a struggle to stay alive
to keep heads on shoulders,
hands on arms, feet on legs
to see another April 25
Now it’s bloody sad, so sad
Such a stupid waste
All those fine young fellas gone
buried at Anzac Cove with their mates
you think things would have changed
yet as the crowds gather in remembrance
the winds of war still blow strong.