6:20 a.m. - 2007-04-26
What's for brekkies?
Last night when Ned got back, he was all worked up about ANZAC Day. Not that I blame him. But I can't believe he has never picked up on it, especially since you can't say "Gallipoli" to me without my dissolving into tears. My sister as well. No, I am not that old, but the film had a terrible impact on me. Hmm, for that matter, so did Mark Lee. At any rate, they were singing some magnificent anthem in rehearsal (choir, kirky) and he came up practically in tears. I love that man. His emotions run close to the surface. Plus he is a good man.

AND THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA (Eric Bogle)

Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

OOOH! Look what happened! I was trying to fix a mistake, and this popped up. Ned sent this in a notify mail. There was also some of the anthem, and where he's gigging this week.

Yesterday, as I was strolling about aimlessly at Workplace, I thought to myself "I'm feeling awfully ventilated..." and saw that a tie on one of my clothings was not there! I was flapping in the breeze! Being super-creative, I formed papaer clips into spirals and zigzags and clipped myself into decency.

I am in the middle of Alphabet City, you know, the one with a Pee, an Em, and an Ess! That might be the reason I got rahther inebriated last night. It was one glass of wine initially, then a half more. Geh! Iam turning into a lightweight. Who'll out-drink the sailors? Clearly more training is required. At any rate I was all weepy yesterday and was missing my grandparents. Then out of the blue, my Auntie is giving me Grandmere's mink coat. I am conflicted because on the joy side, it is a link to Grandmere, but on the pain side, all those furry lives gone.

Now I am starving to death. That is all!

Cavalry - Apache