1. LONE PINE

Grunting with exertion they pried up the log roof
Those hardened diggers who seemed somewhat aloof
Their snarling faces glared into the darkness below
Blackened figures hardly seen, swaying to and fro.

Curses uncounted and fighting unseen
In darkness they fought amidst uncanny screams
Inm pine covered trenches they night quickly came
An unlikely victory in a doomed campaign.

Twenty minutes of terror and they took the main trench
A prelude to four days fighting in a nauseating stench
But lone pine was for the keeping
A worthy victory at last
Though with two thousand casualties the cost, it seems so Vast.


2. VICTORY OF WITHDRAWAL

The decision had been made
We must leave this fatal shore
But at what cost to the diggers
Three thousand, maybe four?

To leave dead cobbers behind
To go and fight in the real war
So many mixed emotions
For the australian, new zealand army corps
First steps had been taken
To deceive the now honoured turk
For him to think we'll be staying
To continue the siege work

From high ground the turks could see
A game of cricket of shell green
The running between wickets
Under shell fire 'what a scene!'

Diggers walking in circles
Carrying water for a laugh
The Turks spotted nothing unusual
Yet another classic bluff

Anzacs farewelled their fallen cobbers
For the time had finally come
To leave the place by boat
Kept warm by the nip of rum

Not a digger killed
The Turks were truly deceived
Rifles still fired on the ridges
Time delayed rifles, who would believe.


3. A.J. SHOUT

A carpenter at reschs brewery and veteran of the boer war
A regular at randwick rifle range and yet he urged for more
So when england declared war on germany, australia did as Well
Alfred john shout swapped chisel for rifle for in war he Did excel

Captain shout was soon known as a cheery, well liked and Brave man
And on landing at anzac cove into and at the enemy he did Ran
He led an advance and captured territory known as baby 700
Captured turks were stunned as their belongings were Quickly plundered

At gaba tepe although wounded, carried more than a dozen Injured mates
Out of the firing line, to safety and out of reach of a Doomed fate
Injured again his arm shattered but he refused to go to The rear
Third time wounded amidst his protests, from the line he Was dragged clear

Then came the fateful day, he was thirty three and one day Old
Clearing sasse's sap at line pine his vc medal citation is Told
He charged through trenches with captain sasse who stabbed And shot
Whilst shout used jam tin bombs to lob at all the turks he Spot

He lit three at the one time in preparation for the next Assault
These crude homemade devices contained bullet shells and Bolts
He threw one down the way and was about to lob another
When one of the remaining two was faulty and blew asunder

The explosion took his right hand, his left eye and part Of his chin
Those near were shocked this red haired digger still Managed to grin
Though hideously maimed and bleeding freely he directed The attack
In time stretcher bearers came and took his weakened body Down the track

He remained positive that he would heal and soon return to The front
But those around him knew lone pine would be his final Stunt
On ship on route to hospital, his heart failed, his soul Set free
This brave vc winner died a hero and was solemnly buried At sea


4. THE NEK

A narrowing of the vision and a tightening of the chest
We are told to hop the bags I guess the officers know best
A harrowing of the vision and an uncanny lack of breath
The first waves failed before us, charged into certain Death

Corpses piled above us, minutes before were fit young men
Can't the officers see the slaughter will happen once again
I now wait for the whistle, its sharp call shall send me To my grave
I tremble and despair, a quick death is all that I now crave

We step onto the firing step from which we shall push forth
No bullets in our rifles, our bayonets pointing north
My vision it is blurring from a stream of uncontrollable Tears
I farewell the bloke beside me, his eyes mirror my own Fears.


5. QUINN'S POST

Up monash valley he slipped and strained
Amongst a company of the 4th brigade
To a post filled with the dead and the maimed
On gallipoli where the legend was made

The rumor had spread far and wide
Of quinn's post where a few could survive
Bombs coming in like an evening tide
Where only death, flies, and lice could thrive

A frantic arrival, a mad dash to the trench
Sniper rifle firing a welcoming chant
Unburied bodies and their gut turning stench
A vacant eyed digger and his mumbling chant

"A day in hell doesn't equal
An hour in these trenches
Take me back to the wazza
With those buxom wenches"

Trenches so close you can hear a turk cough
No smoking at the front, you'll get us all shot
A noise to the front, jam tin bombs thrown aloft
Fuses too long, the bastards returned the lot.


6. SHELL SHOCK

Buried alive yet once again, the earth heaves as though it Breathes
A deafening roar and a wave of soil, the taste of dirt in The mouth it leaves

Dug out yet again by mates so dear
It's not the shrapnel now we fear

Buried for a minute you feel your mind slipping away
The second time it happens your nerves begin to fray

An unending barrage in this brown desolation
My soul has been shaken to its foundation.


7. PENINSULA OF GRAVES

The boats they held thirty
Strong tanned arms rowed them true
In front up high on ridges
Awaited turkish machine gun crews

Had they known what would happen
Once the boats scrapped the rocky shore
The would have bloody well rowed faster
To begin the terribly futile war

4:30 arrived with bullets
Death came raining down
Australians fell in numbers
As they leapt from boat to ground

25th of april, morning of the brave
The peak of adventure
A peninsula of graves

Many escaped death and injury
Adrenalin sent them up the slopes
The first to kill a turk
Were many a man's hopes

They were told to spare their bullets
The bayonet they were to use
This was to the diggers' liking
The hellish landing had lit their short fuse

They swept johnny turk before them
Dug in on ridges high
They would get not much further
Though months would pass 'em by

25th of april, mourning of the brave
The peak of adventure
A peninsula of graves.