The Happy Warrior by Kerry B. Collison Page B

gallant brethren out of strife,
    But that some cruel and treacherous hand betrayed
    A memorial which keeps their memory evergreen
    And shouts for vengeance of the harsh inhuman scene.
    The pale and anguished bosom of the deep
    Sighs out its foamy sorrow on the shore,
    Is restless for the souls new-laid to sleep,
    Nurses whose healing hands will heal no more.
    The Centaur’s wood flows broken, useless on the wave,
    Cries payment for those lives who nought but mercy gave.
    Frank S. Greenop
----
    Centaur
    Skulk to your hole, you yellow-bellied cur,
    Apeing the boldness of the lion without the lion’s heart!
    No sea seclusion will protect your hide,
    No sea can be too wide or yet too deep
    But that the vengeance of this outraged land
    Can root you out.
    Well you may rise to watch the crippled ship
    That trusted to your honour — you have none.
    Well you may surface and through insolent eyes
    Observe the work your perfidy had wrought.
    Think you so vile an act will profit you
    Or rouse a flame of terror in our souls?
    Reprisal! Already I can hear it on your lips.
    Already I can hear you tell the world
    â€™Twas done for some fictitious vengeance,
    Some deed for which it is not possible
    For us to stoop unless we hacked away all decencies.
    Skulk to your hole, for your success was failure!
    A few there may have been who gave to you
    The benefit of doubt at recent times,
    Countenancing your treacheries because
    There was a possibility of doubt.
    Even in the face of such atrocity,
    While yet the sea was boiling where the ship
    Had drawn her splendid cross beneath the calm,
    A woman in a lifeboat sang.
    Russell J. Oakes
----
    New Guinea Exile
    This is a land where men have fought and died.
    Here in these mountains they have toiled and known
    Day after day in mud, on steep cliffside,
    Tangled with vines, together or alone,
    Such fear as none can know who have not been
    In this wild land, this hell of jungle green.
    Here is a world apart from that of man;
    A world in which the savage even seems
    Civil and tame compared with that wild clan,
    Whose savage lust, whose mad ferocious dreams
    Have driven them and us to its strange shore
    To fight — some to remain for evermore.
    Will there, in some dim future, dawn a day
    When we who led this crazy, unreal life
    Waken again to see, in trim array,
    The radiant form of a beloved wife,
    Our children without fear, the little lawn,
    And flowers in the quiet, warless dawn?
    Cpl. J.J. McAuliffe
----
    We’ll Capture Tarakan
    (To the tune of Lili Marlene)
    Here comes the Aussies to capture Tarakan,
    It is just the kick-off, we’re heading for Japan.
    It you could see these grim-faced men
    With their mates, the RAN,
    And backed up by the Air Force — We’ll capture Tarakan.
    Kenny has promised the Air Force a Douglas full of beer,
    While the boys who do the landing can’t crack it for a cheer.
    All they will cop from this lousy joint
    Is one long look at the water point.
    But they don’t buck, you know it, they’ll capture Tarakan.
    Resting on Manoora is Fraser and his crew,
    Messing around as usual, he doesn’t know what to do;
    But you can bet that he enjoys
    The rousing cheers from all the boys
    When he sends up the munga, we’ll need in Tarakan.
    Where is Colonel Ainslie? About eight minutes late.
    We can’t stop to worry, ’cause soldiers do not wait;
    We’ve got to climb the razor-back,
    The oil fields there are on our track,
    And straight from there we’re heading — to capture Tarakan.
    The barrage is lifting, we’re just about to land,
    There’s fire from Nippy’s pill-box, he’s trying to starve our hand.
    Company in position, we’re all in line,
    The first wave’s off, we start to shine,
    Then push up, from the beach-head — to capture Tarakan.
    â€˜Oboe one’ is over, we’re ready for Number Two.
    Throwback on your gear, Rats, we’re in ‘another blue’;
    Though some of