We met for just a little while
On that one day of each year,
Each time he was a bit more grey,
And smelt some more of beer.

We talked a bit of funny things,
Of places far away,
We gid the things within our minds,
That hurt on Anzac Day.

He drooped a bit as years went by,
And shuffled when he walked.
He said that things were getting tough,
And rambled when he talked.

But when the order came to march,
He pulled his old back straight,
And stepped along with the rest,
The swing back in his gait.

His gongs flashed on his wheezing chest,
Bright shining in the sun,
His faded eyes were damp with tears
For lost mates in battles won.

The band marched ahead and lead us on
To Memorial Honour Roll.
We listened as the service there
Stirred ev'ry heart and soul.

We stood beneath our Country's flag,
Beside each man a ghost,
A mate returned to stand with us
At the sounding of the "Last Post".

The marshall called out loud "Dismiss",
We went upon our way,
Some to glad reunions,
Some to weep and pray.

I came again next Anzac Day,
Looked for that haunted face,
That isn't there each twenty fifth,
There's another in it's place.

Noel Smith
24.04.1994
TX9401 Spr. Smith, N.G