Memories Of An Anzac Poem by Andrew Jary

Tell us where you've been they said
Tell us what you saw
Tell us about the daring deeds
And what you did in the War
But I shook my head and held my tongue
For the memories were too raw.

For how could they possibly comprehend?
How could they understand?
The terrible things I saw and did
In a distant foreign land?
Where I saw my best friend torn apart
And all that was left was a hand.

How could I speak of the nightmare nights
That made me wake with a scream
And dread to close my weary eyes
For fear of what I'd dream?
But I had to bury them deep inside
I couldn't let down the team

How could they ever understand
The way the body chilled?
Though the heart beat fast and the blood ran hot
And the mind was strangely thrilled?
For you knew that come the morning light
It was either kill or be killed.

It's a terrible thing to meet a man
And look him in the eyes
To see the terror and watch the fear
Strip his soul of any disguise
To have to make the bullets fly
And watch him as he dies.

My father used to tell me tales
Of his war of long ago
When you fought the enemy one on one
And saluted the fallen foe
But his battles were fought in the Heavenly blue
Not the hell of the trench below.

But now the years have wandered past
And death knocks at my door
And nobody wants to know today
The things I did and saw
But I will never forget those times
And the memories are still raw.