"Over There" with the Australians

Here where I sit, mucked-up with Flanders mud, Wrapped-round with clothes to keep the Winter out, Ate-up wi' pests a bloke don't care to name To ears polite, I'm glad I'm here all right; A man must fight for freedom and his blood Against this German rout An' do his bit, An' not go growlin' while he's doin' it: The cove as can't stand cowardice or shame Must play the game.

Here's Christmas, though, with cold sleet swirlin' down . . . God! gimme Christmas day in Sydney town! I long to see the flowers in Martin Place, To meet the girl I write to face to face, To hold her close and teach What in this Hell I'm learning--that a man Is only half a man without his girl, That sure as grass is green and God's above A chap's real happiness, If he's no churl, Is home and folks and girl, And all the comforts that come in with love!

There is a thrill in war, as all must own, The tramplin' onward rush, The shriek o' shrapnel and the followin' hush, The bosker crunch o' bayonet on bone, The warmth of the dim dug-out at the end, The talkin' over things, as friend to friend, And through it all the blessed certainty As this war's working out for you an' me As we would have it work.

Fritz maybe, and the Turk Feel that way, too, The same as me an' you, And dream o' victory at last, although The silly cows don't know, Because they ain't been born and bred clean-free, Like you and me.

But this is Christmas, and I'm feeling blue, An' lonely, too. I want to see one little girl's sly pout (There's lots of other coves as feels like this) That holds you off and still invites a kiss. I want to get out from this smash and wreck Just for to-day, And feel a pair of arms slip round me neck In that one girl's own way. I want to hear the splendid roar and shout O' breakers comin' in on Bondi Beach, While she, with her old scrappy costume on, Walks by my side, an' looks into my face, An' makes creation one big pleasure-place Where golden sand basks in that golden weather-- Yes! her an' me together! I do me bit, An' make no fuss of it; But for to-day I somehow want to be At home, just her an' me.

(From the Sydney "Sunday Times")

CONTENTS

An Introduction Mainly About Scouts

PART I

"THE CALL TO ARMS"

CHAPTER

I. The Call Reaches Some Far-Out Australians II. An All-British Ship III. Human Snowballs IV. Training-Camp Life V. Concentrated for Embarkation VI. Many Weeks at Sea

PART II

EGYPT

VII. The Land of Sand and Sweat VIII. Heliopolis IX. The Desert X. Picketing in Cairo XI. "Nipper"

PART III

GALLIPOLI

XII. The Adventure of Youth XIII. The Landing That Could Not Succeed--But Did XIV. Holding On and Nibbling XV. The Evacuation XVI. "Ships That Pass . . ."

PART IV

THE WESTERN FRONT

XVII. Ferry Post and the Suez Canal Defenses XVIII. First Days in France XIX. The Battle of Fleurbaix XX. Days and Nights of Strafe XXI. The Village of Sleep XXII. The Somme XXIII. The Army's Pair of Eyes XXIV. Nights in No Man's Land XXV. Spy-Hunting XXVI. Bapaume and "a Blighty"

PART V

HOSPITAL LIFE

XXVII. In France XXVIII. In London XXIX. The Hospital-Ship XXX. In Australia XXXI. Using an Irishman's Nerve

PART VI

MEDITATIONS IN THE TRENCHES

XXXII. The Right Infantry Weapons XXXIII. The Forcing-House of Bestiality XXXIV. The Psychology of Fear XXXV. The Splendor of the Present Opportunity XXXVI. Not a Fight for "Race" but for "Right" XXXVII. "Keeping Faith with the Dead"