Description

This article is from the soc.culture.australian FAQ, by Stephen Wales with numerous contributions by others.

13.2.3 "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda", Eric Bogle

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
I waltzed my matilda all over.
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son,
It's time to stop ramblin 'cos there work to be done,
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun,
and they sent me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the Quay,
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli.

How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that town that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well,
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells,
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,
As we stopped to bury our slain,
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

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

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

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind and insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where my legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me,
To grieve and to mourn and to pity.

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

And now every April I sit on my porch,
And I watch the parade pass before me,
And I watch all my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing old dreams of past glory.
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore,
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, 'What are they marching for?'
And I ask myself the same question.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
And the old men answer the call,
But year after year their numbers get fewer,
Some day no one will march there at all.

Continue to:

• prev: 13.2.2 "Advance Australia Fair", National Anthem
• Index
• next: 13.2.4 "Tie me kangaroo down" (Rolf Harris) [TS]